Page 43 of Rest In Knotty Pieces

His eyes blaze with rage.

I’m angry, but I don’t know why. I’m hurt, but there’s no reason to be. A sick, twisting thing writhes in my chest, and I realise I’ve forgotten to be scared.

And now I’ve upset everyone.

“Who is this?” The older omega asks sharply.

“This is Merle.”

“Hi, Merle,” she says kindly.

I don’t look at her. I don’t look away from Pix. He doesn’t say anything, so without another word, I turn and vanish back down the hallway and return to my bedroom.

I pace the small space, back and forth, my scent gets spicy and hot, then turns heavy. Those people leave.

When someone comes to my door, I throw myself against it, stopping it from opening and snarl.

“Merle? I just want to talk-”

I snarl louder.

“Okay, okay. I’ll come back later,” Sage says.

I pace into the wee hours of the night, trying to resolve my feelings, but I keep seeing her hands on him. The smile he gave them. His happiness.

Have I ever been that happy? Why doesn’t he look like that when I touch him?

I clench my teeth and drop into a crouch, wrapping my arms around my knees as voices that I wish I couldn’t remember come back, flinging things that have half been forgotten back at me.

Time passes in an agony of increments.

The door slams open, and King stalks in. He takes one look at me and snarls. The sound is so distinctly alpha, so wild and aggressive, that I just swallow hard and shut down.

He snatches me up, stalks through the house, and walks right up to this wall. He presses a tiny, almost invisible silver button, and it slides open, revealing stairs.

The way out. He’s taking me out.

He jogs up the stairs and pushes open a wooden door. I squint at the sudden agony of the sunlight. The smells, the lights, the sounds, but suddenly, that bubble I’ve been suffocating under bursts.

It’s dawn. The horrible night has ended.

King lets me go, and I whirl away from him, but I only go ten feet or so before I’m back facing him. His hair is somehow more blue in the light. He’s bigger, more dangerous. And yet, faced with the world, he’s somehow the safety. He doesn’t smile when I touch him either.

What’s wrong with me?

Why don’t they smile?

He takes a step towards me.

My lip wobbles, and I sidestep but don’t step away.

“Easy,” he whispers.

He takes another step. I tremble, staring at him with my eyes stretched wide.

“I know it seems like it’s all gone wrong, but-”

My mouth is dry. I’m scared. So scared.Is he letting me go? Is he sending me away?