Page 40 of Empty

The ride to my apartment was silent. So was the trip in the elevator. But the minute we crossed the threshold, I tried to fill the silence with mundane conversation. However, after a few minutes of rambling, Eli reminded me,

“We don’t have to talk tonight if you’re not ready. You need to rest and heal. I can go and you can call me whenever you’re ready, okay?”

My heart slammed against my rib cage, my pulse skyrocketing as the fear of him leaving again was no longer a mere thought, but a looming reality. I schooled my expression, my face remaining stony as I nonchalantly mumbled, “Fine. Leave like you did the last time.” Internally, I winced as Eli did. Externally, I remained calm.

“That’s not fair, Delaney,” he defended himself, his voice strangled by his sadness. “I didn’t leave that night. You did. You didn’t give me a chance to explain anything.”

“Why? So you could lie to me about your fi—” I stumbled over the word, finding it rather difficult to say something so simple, yet pushed myself to continue. “Your fiancé?”

“I told you I don’t—” Eli stopped himself, shaking his head. His scent shifted, trepidation becoming pungent. “I don’t want to argue with you, Laney. I want to talk. Honestly. And if you’re not there yet, because of my actions, or inaction, I understand.” He took a few steps forward, causing me to freeze. He dipped his head, brushing his lips against my forehead. “I’ll let you get some rest. Call me when you’re ready.” His eyes were sorrowful, despite the small smile on his face.

He left, and I let him, fighting against the stupid urge to chase after him. My stomach ached and chest tightened, but I tried to ignore it, despite calculating how much time I would have if I decided to give chase. Before I knew it, my feet were carrying me forward. I bypassed the elevator, opting to take the stairs, two at a time. My face was warm and wet; I was pissed because I was crying and I didn’t know why. But I was and the only explanation was…

“Elias!” I yelled at his back. “I was fine that day at the hospital. I didn’t need your stupid lighter.”

Eli turned to face me, his eyebrows pinched together. “Laney?”

“I was fine. I was just going to have amazing sex with you and enjoy going on dates, but you didn’t let me and I’m so angry with you.” My vision swam, tears clinging to my eyelashes before free falling to the concrete. Eli took a step forward and I took one back. “Why?”

“I’m not sure how to answer…” he trailed off.

“Why did you have to show me that you cared? Why did you have to go out of your way from day one? Why does it hurt so badly to miss you and to have you around?!”

“I—” he started, but I cut him off.

“I’m scared and I’m angry. I want to punch you, and I want to kiss you. I want to be vulnerable with you but the thought of sharing all of myself with you makes me more guarded and I don’t understand why?!” My hands balled at my side as I cried. “I’ve never felt like this and the only explanation is—”

Eli crossed the parking lot quickly, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me up to the tips of his toes as he brought our mouths together.

I was so confused; I wanted to push him away and hold him close. I wanted to cry and scream and ask for him to hold me when I was done having a meltdown, but at the moment, I gave myself over to the warm, soft lips against mine, ones that tasted of salt.

Chapter Eighteen

The distance between us felt wider than it had been in the past three months. I was finally able to calm Delaney down enough to get him to agree to take his pain medication and rest, but he was stubborn and insisted on not going to bed until we spoke.

“So?” Delaney stared, waiting impatiently for me to begin.

Having never really told anyone the entire truth of my genetic makeup by choice, I floundered. “I don’t know where to start.” I lowered my gaze to my lap, threading my fingers together. “I’ve never told anyone—not by choice—I’m—”

“Do you have a fiancé?” Delaney interjected, his voice paper thin.

My head snapped up, my eyes wide as I met his pained expression. “No. God, no. My parents have been trying to arrange a marriage since I was thirteen. I didn’t know they were serious. When I realized they were, and refused the first time, I was fifteen. Their response was to send me to study abroad.” I shuddered at the memories. “I’m against arranged marriages. Everyone deserves to have the basic right to choose who they join their lives to.”

Picking at a loose strand on the blanket he was wrapped in, Delaney muttered. “Why have you never dated an omega? That’s what your father said, right?”

Guess I found a good starting point.

I shifted nervously. “Uh, I presented really early. Earlier than most. Both of my parents are alphas. The expectation was that their pedigree would result in alpha children, which it did. Jackson—”

“Not to interrupt, but I abhor your brother.”

“—valid, but Jackson is an alpha. He presented at about sixteen. I remember being excited for him and anxiously awaiting the day I’d present. My parents doted on him during his presentation and his first rut. I overheard them telling him how his position in life had been sealed—he was meant to lead the family and the business, eventually taking over as the head when our father became too old. I admit, I was jealous. Stupidly so. I wanted to be the first born, I wanted that right. I wanted to make my parents proud. Months later, I presented. I was thirteen. It was painful and I was scared. I-I went to my mother to show her. I had a double set of fangs on the top and bottom row of teeth, and I just knew something was wrong. Mostly because I couldn’t retract them and each time I spoke, I wound up cutting my mouth.”

Delaney’s head cocked to the side, his eyes narrowing as he stared. “An alpha presenting with double sets of fangs on both upper and lower jaw is very rare. That means you’re—”

“A dominant alpha,” I finished in a muted voice. Speaking about my past was always difficult. I didn’t want people to think I enjoyed what happened. “My parents didn’t realize that at the time. My mother calmed me down enough for me to be able to retract my fangs and when she told my father I presented early, he insisted on putting me through rigorous training. I think he had an idea that I wasn’t… normal… but he didn’t know why. And yet, he was willing to exploit that.”

“What do you mean?”