Page 18 of Hangman's Knot
Chapter Seven
Tenor
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The minute Julius is gone, Tenor's eyes snap to where she's sitting on Luke's bunk, her arms wrapped protectively around her legs, looking very much like a caged animal. A really cute caged animal. Like a bunny maybe? Yeah, he could totally see Eden as a bunny.
"Why do you smell like my pack brother?" His voice is husky, but he seats himself on Julius' bed opposite her, not wanting to crowd her or make her feel unsafe. The prettiest little blush lights up the porcelain skin of her face at his question. Too cute.
"I had a heat spike."
The smile drops off his face.
"He took care of me," she adds quickly. "It was okay."
"And you're uhh... okay with that? With him taking care of you?"
He knew Julius would never force a woman, but he couldn't imagine the terrified girl in front of him wanting to fuck around with any of them right now. Especially not in this shithole full of rapists and murderers. Her nerves were probably shot to shit and it was not exactly the most romantic setting.
"He was really sweet," she says, peeking up at him.
That throws him. He'd seen Julius fuck. A lot. Sweet was not one of the words he'd use to describe it.
"Huh," he says. "Alright."
Julius comes back then and Tenor can feel frustration from him through the bond. His eyes flick quickly to Eden before landing on Tenor and the bastard scowls like he knows what they've just been talking about. Tenor feels irritation flare in the bond towards him, a clear warning. Good thing he didn't give a shit about Julius' warnings.
"Leave her the fuck alone, dude," his pack brother snarks at him as he settles in beside him on the bed and snags the book he had been reading off his shelf. Tenor looks over at the cover. An autobiography by Benjamin Franklin. Fucking gag. Julius wouldn't know good literature if it bit him on the knot.
Eden's eyes flit back and forth between them as if trying to decipher something, her eyes focussing on the places where their bodies were touching. Physical intimacy wasn't a weird thing in their pack. They'd bandaged each other up, bathed together, slept together, and fucked girls together for the last ten years. He thought he probably knew Luke's and Julius' bodies about as well as he knew his own.
"Light's out in ten minutes," Julius mutters without looking up from the page. "What are we going to do about showers?"
Tenor pauses. There was no way they could take her to the communal showers. That was asking for trouble. But towing her around smelling like omega slick wasn't all that smart either.
He looks at the towels. They could drape them over the bunk bed in front of the toilet, give her enough privacy so that she could take a Ke$ha shower at the sink with a washcloth. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than nothing.
Eden looks less than thrilled at his idea when he voices it, but she doesn't complain. The girl never complained. She looks at the shit excuse of a privacy curtain they set up and doesn't complain. When the only water that comes out of the metal sink attached to the toilet is ice cold, she doesn't complain then either.
It's nearly impossible not to look back when he listens to the sounds of her undressing and hears the soft sounds of the washcloth pulling across bare skin.
He forces his body over to Luke's bunk, keeping his head resolutely turned towards the bars and decidedly not at the naked omega, even as the little gasping breaths she makes as the frigid water touches her makes him want to gather her in his arms and keep her safe and warm forever.
When her shivering little body approaches Luke's bunk, he shoves himself over as far as he can go against the wall to make room for her to climb in and remake her nest for the evening.
It had broken his heart watching her tear it apart that morning when they had to make up the bunks for the day. It wasn't worth getting written up for, but the little tear she had shed had made his heart ache. It wasn't natural for an omega to tear apart a nest. It was a sign something was deeply wrong if she did.
Her skin is cold where it touches his, and he resists the urge to wrap himself around her like an octopus to warm her. He doesn't want to scare her, not when she's finally smelling more relaxed.
Yet he cannot resist the contented rumble that purrs out of his chest as she settles against him, her round ass pressed up against his cock as she slots herself against him. She's the little spoon tonight apparently, and it feels right to have her in his arms.
"You good?" He checks in with her, his voice low.
"Yeah," she responds in a whisper. "Thank you for everything."
"It's the least we could do," he says. "You don't deserve this, Eden."
She doesn't respond and he smells her anxiety spike. Fuck. He tries to make his purr soothing.
