Page 30 of Ruin Me Knot
I kneel on the plush rug, dipping the clean cloth into the bowl and wringing itout. My hands shake a little, but I move slowly, careful not to disrupt her peace.
I press the warm cloth along her hairline, then down behind her ear, sweeping away sweat beading at her temples and the sides of her neck. I work down to her shoulders, brushing my fingers lightly over her skin so nothing feels sudden. She doesn’t wake, only sighs, pressing subconsciously into my touch. I sweep the cloth over her chest, her hips, and the insides of her thighs, wiping away the slick and ache that still clings to her.
My jaw tightens as I work. The bruises are older, faded to yellow and green, but I see each one. Thin lines at her wrists and ankles where restraints bit deep. Faint welts, small scars, landscapes of abuse mapped across skin that should have known only safety.
I reach for the soft robe I brought. Moving carefully, I slip her arms through the sleeves and wrap the terrycloth around her, making sure she's covered and warm. She sighs softly as the fabric settles against her skin.
When I reach her knees with the cloth, something sharp pricks at my nose. A chemical, scorched smell, bitter and artificial, is woven into her natural scent. The taint is burned and sterile. Wrong. I pause, cloth limp in my grip, and glance up at Ronan where he sits guard over our Omega, his eyes tracking everything.
He catches the tension in my shoulders, his gaze sharpening as I pause. I keep my voice low, barely disturbing the hush. "Do you smell that? There’s something…chemical in her scent. Burned. It’s mixed right in, under her heat."
Ronan frowns and drags in a lungful of air before his brows rise, concern darkening his eyes. "It wasn't there before. I’m sure of it."
I run the cloth along Leah’s thigh and shake my head. I didn’t notice it in her either, so this is a new development. "It doesn’t smell natural. I’m guessing it's from whatever Hardwick did to her."
His nostrils flare as he takes in another hit of her perfume. "Why do you think it’s there now?"
"She could be metabolizing the drug, or her forced heat triggered it. Without full bloodwork, it’ll be hard to tell."
Her chest rises in shallow breaths under the towel, and I sit back on my haunches as exhaustion presses down on my shoulders.
"Whatever it is, I just hope it won’t escalate. I don’t know if she’ll crash, spike a fever, seize up or if it’ll just pass." The admission tastes bitter, each possibility tightening a cold knot of dread in my gut.
I twist the cloth in my fist, staring at my hands because it’s easier than looking at the grief carved on Ronan’s face or feeling the uncertainty in my own. "I hate not knowing. I hate standing on the side and not being able to fix her. She should never have to hurt like this."
"I know, brother. I know," Ronan says.
Helplessness comes with not having answers for our Omega. Right now, I can only clean her skin and pray that whatever’s working through her blood doesn’t take anything else from her.
Leah stirs, lashes fluttering against her cheeks. For a second, I think she’s still deep under her heat haze but then she blinks, and her gaze lands on me. She’s looking right at me. Not through me. At me.
She’scognizant.
That can’t be right. Omegas in full heat drift for days lost to instinct, barely lucid enough to drink water. But Leah’s gaze is sharp, despite the fever in her too frail body and…shit. We haven’t even fed her. Maybe that’s why she’s woken. Her body can’t sustain the heat and she’s fractured.
Guilt crawls in my gut. She’s been denied more than anyone else we’ve rescued, so thin every rib casts shadows, hunger baked into the way she curls up and tenses her shoulders. Food should have been our priority.
I school my voice low and even, past the nerves and regret. "Hey, Leah. You with us?" I crouch closer, make myself small and less threatening. "How are you feeling?"
Ronan goes stone-still, shock plain on his face. He expected Leah to be lost to her heat too. His brows jump, mouth parting in surprise. "She’s lucid? Actually here with us?"
I hold his gaze for a beat and nod, trying not to betray how much I’m scrambling. "Full heat and she’s aware. We’re off the map now.”
Leah takes in where she’s perched on Ronan’s lap and jolts up with a wordless cry, only for her legs to buckle. Instinct has me moving fast. I lunge, hands catching her elbows and lowering her to the floor.
"Let me go!" Her voice is brittle with fear.
I bring my palms up and back off, giving her plenty of space. "It’s all right, Leah. I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all."
She scrambles away from us until her back hits the other couch, watching us with wary eyes, every muscle ready to bolt. The urge to help battles with my fear of driving her deeper into panic. She might be cognizant but she’s not fully back in her right mind, let alone dealing with the trauma she’s suffered.
"Hey, just…" I clear my throat and pitch my tone lower. "I made food. If you want something to eat, it’s ready whenever you’re hungry."
Her eyes track me, silent and mistrustful, lips pressed tight.
Gabriel’s footsteps coming back into the living room after a shower breaks the taut silence.
Leah’s head jerks around, back pressed so hard into the couch I half expect stuffing to come out. Her eyes dart over Gabriel, sizing him up as a fresh threat.
