Page 10 of Hangman's Knot
"Solitary." When she still looks confused, he elaborates. "Solitary confinement. Punishment. He'll probably get a month or two for leaving behind the bodies."
A month or two? In solitary confinement?She feels nauseous at the thought but she says nothing.
Her mind mulls over his choice of phrase 'leaving behind the bodies.' Did they... ever dispose of bodies? What kind of place was this?
The thoughts cloud together as she climbs under sheets that smell like warm earth and safety and alpha. The lights all go out at once a moment later. She's asleep quicker than she would have thought possible in the suffocating darkness of this place, and her dreams are horrible.
???
She wakes in a panic, unsure where she is. She jolts back, her heart in her throat, and her head bashes against the cinderblock wall behind her. She keens in pain, confused and terrified, as she realizes there is a heavy weight of someone sitting on the bunk next to her. She cannot tell her dreams from reality, cannot even see her hand in front of her. It's pitch black.
The world is spinning when she hears a soothing sound rumbling out of their chest, and then she smells him. Woody, but kind of spicy. Tenor, the golden eyed alpha who gave her water. He is sitting next to her on her bunk. The world pieces itself back together slowly, glued together by that sound that promised safety and comfort.
"Hey," he says, tentatively reaching out to touch her head, probing around the wound with quick, practiced hands as if making sure she didn't need stitches or something. Was he a medic? "Hey, you're okay. Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I thought you were awake. You were crying."
She wasn't aware of her tears until he mentioned them, but then they are flowing freely down her face and she feels a terrified sob heaving in her chest.
"Are you injured?" His voice is soft and gentle, and it only makes her cry harder.
Her skull is throbbing, but she doesn't feel any blood. Her answer comes out as a question. "No?"
His purr is horribly comforting and it only serves to make her more confused.
"They don't give us anything to make a nest out of," he says as he looks down at the paltry nest she's tried to make around herself with the single thin blanket and sheet. "Is that what you need? A nest?"
"I have two omega sisters," he continues, and she hears a smilein his voice. "Anytime they're upset, they always go back to their nests. Usually they make me bring snacks and stuff to them. It always makes them feel better."
She whines a little at the thought. A nest was a place of safety and comfort, something an omega needed in order to rest. His mention of omega sisters sends a pang through her chest at the thought of a home, a family, safety. But before she can consider it further, he is reaching up and tugging his sheets and blankets down from his own bunk.
"Here," he offers. "Use these, will that help?"
As he presses the scented fabric into her hands, Eden feels her head swim. She had never had a nest that smelled like alphas before. She had never felt safe enough to invite an alpha back home before, let alone to let one of them into her bed. And now she was surrounded by rough, scratchy blankets and sheets that smelled richly of these alphas who were protecting her.
But if he gave her his blankets— "Where will you sleep?"
Tenor chuckles softly, the sound unbothered. "I'll be fine," he replies. "Don't worry about me."
"W-would you stay with me?" Her voice sounded tiny and pathetic to her own ears.
"With you? In your nest? You sure?"
"I'd feel safer." It sounds stupid. How could she be safer with an alpha in bed with her? But she couldn't deny that these alphasdidmake her feel safer. It felt as if nothing would hurt her when she was with them, just like they had said.
"Alright, ma. Put me where you want me." There's a lightness to his voice, and the warmth of it wraps around her.
She considers for a moment, and then guides him into the narrow bed. She turns on her side with her back pressed againstthe wall and lays him facing out, a little spoon nestled against her front. It's the first time she's ever cuddled with an alpha, but she doesn't let herself dwell on that. Not right now.
She begins building her miniscule nest around them, weaving the two blankets and sheets around the two of them as best she can. The beds are tiny, forcing them into a strange intimacy in the close proximity, but feeling him pressed against her in the confines of the bunk is strangely soothing.
"I've never done this before," she mutters, needing to explain to him why she's struggling. A little bit of frustration leaks into her voice as she tries to adjust the nest to suit the length of him. For some reason, she doesn't want him to think she's an amateur or something. Doesn't want him to think she's bad atmaking nests, if that were possible.
"What, built a nest in a prison bed?" His voice is dry and it sounds sleepy, as if he's about to drift off.
"Built a nest with an alpha in it," she snips back.
She feels him freeze and tense at that, but he doesn't respond. As she settles the blankets around them, her body seems to relax at last, the spicy wood scent of him filling her nose this close in proximity.
This time, when she sleeps, there are no dreams at all.
