Page 60 of Ruin Me Knot
His eyes flutter shut. He has the longest, softest lashes I’ve ever seen. He covers my hand with his, pressing my palm against his cheek as though he’s savoring this most basic of touches from me. His eyes open and I’m falling into the night sky. His lips tilt. "Thank you."
"Wha…what for?" My voice is a dry rasp.
"For choosing to touch me."
It takes a moment to realize that every touch we’ve shared has been initiated by them. I tense, the urge to pull away rising because I shouldn’t have done that. An Omega should never do anything that an Alpha doesn't want. Shouldn’t—
"Good Omega," Jax rasps.
His thumb drags over the back of my hand and images of our bodies molded together in the shower flash through my mind. He touched me as tenderly then as he is now, the stroke bordering on reverence…and hethankedme.
Heat pools in the dip of my waist where Ronan brands me with his palm. Gabriel rises behind Jax and peers down at me, hazel eyes bright with desire. "Hey there, Sweetheart. I hope you don’t mind what we did to your nest. None of us wanted to leave you, so we all voted to stay. Next time we sleep, I’ll be your cushion and those two can be big spoons."
"I…" I don’t know how to respond. A normal Omega wouldn’t want their nest changed but rightness snaps through me, which is stupid.
A good Omega should know how to build a nest. It should be good enough for their Alphas to be comfortable. It shouldn’t be about them. It should…
"You hungry? Because I am. What would you like to eat this morning, or shall we call it afternoon?" I glimpse out of the window to see the sun hovering in thesky. It could be morning or afternoon, and if it is afternoon, then I’ve slept far too long, and…
"Tell you what, I’ll combine breakfast and lunch, and we can eat whatever we want. No rules. Sound good?" Gabriel doesn’t wait for an answer.
He springs over the couch, his movement pure feline grace. He’s fully nude and does nothing to hide from me as he strides into the kitchen. I stare at his broad shoulders and the strong line of his back as it narrows down to his slim waist, muscular backside, thick thighs and etched calves. He’s a masculine work of art.
He rummages in a drawer, the muscles in his back shifting in smooth rhythm, before pulling out an apron. It’s bright red, printed with a pair of upside-down eggs and the words, "let’s get crackin’." He ties it over his bare chest, hiding his abs and his fully erect cock. The material tents and does nothing to hide him. The sight makes something unspool in my belly. He winks at me when he sees me staring and his lips quirk into a devilish grin. "Have to look after the goods while I cook. My Omega might have need of them later."
A sharp, breathy sound escapes me, a semblance of a laugh. I hadn’t imagined ever laughing again.
Ronan’s nose buries against my neck, his stubble scratching the shell of my ear. His low voice is warmth and rumble, pride edged in possessive delight. "I love that sound. I want to hear it from you all the time."
The ground tilts inside my head, a slow, sickening wobble. No Alpha wants to hear an Omega’s noises; that’s what they taught us, drilled into us. Good Omegas are silent. Invisible. Easy. I know it’s bullshit, but the voices are there and they’re strong.
Ronan tightens his arm around me. "There will be none of that." His tone is carved from stone. Pine-and-musk punch encases me. He isn’t lying. I know it in my bones, the way I know the taste of my own name.
Scent doesn’t lie.
But my mind spins off track, splitting into the voices that are too hard to drown out. Bad Omega. Ruined Omega. Don’t laugh. Don’t move. Don’t take up space. Do what I tell you, or get punished. All bad Omegas get punished. I stumble inthe spiral of my own indecision. If I can’t even believe what my own body is telling me, how do I know what’s real?
"Enough."
My gaze jerks up, breath skittering in too-tight lungs. Ronan holds me in place with nothing but the gravity in his eyes. "Don’t listen to those voices, Kitten. I know they’re loud in your head. Too loud. Too fucking hard not to hear, but don’t believe them because they’ve been feeding you lies."
Anger surges up from that scorched place inside me. I know those voices are lies, but their warnings let me survive.
"You think I don’t know that?" My words come out sharp, scalded by fear and helplessness, but I can’t stop. "What are you going to do? Wave a wand and tell them to go? How do you think I’ll survive when the next Alpha gets their hands on me? How do you expect me to live through that when I don’t have any choice about anything. In case you’ve missed it, I’m an Omega. Being a whore is literally built into my DNA. There’s no other way to survive that, Ronan."
I twist and try to wedge out from between their bodies, but Ronan’s hand is firm across my waist. He doesn’t hurt me, but the gentle restraint is infuriating. I dig my fingers into his forearm. "Let me go!”
"Not going to do that, Kitten." Ronan is so big I have no hope of moving him unless he wants to. If not me, then someone else can speak sense to him.
Jax’s expression is desolate, as if pinning his hope on his bond brother’s ability to help.
"Tell him he’s wrong, Jax. Tell him to let me be. Go get yourselves what every Alpha wants. A compliant Omega."
"Not doing that, Sunshine. The only Omega we want is you." Jax’s brows lower, the edges of his lips turn down, and instant claws scrape against my ribs.
He should be telling Ronan I’m right. Any other Omega is better than an Omega who fights back. It’s what’s always been wrong with me. The reason why Hardwick made me her favorite lab rat. The reason why she forced heat upon heat on me. There was no beating that stubborn anger out of me and the longer it stayed apart from not dying of the Mortalis Strain, the more she wanted toknow why. My scent twists around me, spoiled rose petals left too long in stagnant water.
"You’re not a pet you return to a kennel, Leah. We’re not going to let you go. You’re our Godsdammed scent-matched mate. You need us and we need you." Ronan’s voice cracks, letting through his regret, but it’s still not enough to stop him moving me to my back. For his thigh to settle between mine. For his forest shade, sap thick on the bark, breath anchored in loam to swirl around me, muddying all my senses. "We’re so sorry, Kitten. We thought giving you space was the right thing, but it let you get lost in there. " He taps a finger, so careful, against my temple, and the look of open regret on his face chokes me. "We were no better than the Alphas who left you to rot in that cell of yours. That’s over now. We’re going to rewrite that script. Make you forget the pain and give you something good to feel."
