Page 23 of Mercy & Her Devils

Shit, is this the other Brok and his daughter?

The broken songbird?

My stomach clenches.

Is Fletcher cruel enough to have hidden me away in the Institute?

Songbird — my songbird — is the most beautiful man who I’ve ever seen.

“Welcome to Brok Cell. Facilities are rather lacking, but I like to think that the company makes up for it.” His lips curl. “You have no idea how happy I am to see your beautiful eyes, cupcake. Hmm, aquamarine. I lost the bet. Millie, you got closer. That means two stories before your nap.”

He begins to pull away, but I weakly grasp onto his sleeve. “Mine.”

I’m weak, confused, and barely conscious.

But that’s the one thing I’m certain about.

He’s mine.

Songbird’s eyebrow arches. “You sound like Millie now. Everything’s mine, mine, mine. At least, when she’s not demanding why. Why can’t we have chocolate for breakfast? Why do Mommy and you sleep in different beds? Why do boys have tails?”

“Why we in time-out? We bad? Bad, bad Omegas?” A cute Omega girl (obviously this Millie), with a violet ribbon in her long, curly black hair, who looks about three years old, bounces to stand next to Songbird.

She’s dressed in a violet silk dress that was once pretty but now is smeared with stains.

The Rej bracelet that’s locked around her tiny wrist isn’t pretty at all.

It’s a steel bracelet with a twisted R that hangs like an ugly charm from it, holding technology inside that will alert the government if anyone tries to remove it.

It marks her out for the rest of her life as a Reject.

Songbird’s expression freezes, and he can’t hide the wince.

Then he puts on a forced smile. “You’re a good Omega. The best. Daddy broke some rules, not you. So, we’re here because of what I did, okay?”

Millie’s small face scrunches up in fury. “Daddy good. Will rescue Daddy.”

“I’m sure that you will. But after naptime.” Then he turns back to me, holding up a chipped mug, which is filled with grimy water. “Now, you drink up, then naptime for you too. I’m Lark, by the way.”

I shake my head, trying to reach for Lark’s sleeve again.

I need his scent or touch…something.

Without the bond, I feel alone and shattered into a thousand shards.

Lark gives me an understanding smile. But then, he’s been through this. He had his daughter with him but he had to look after her.

He really is strong.

“Would you like my suit jacket?” He offers casually. “You’re only dressed in nightwear, and even if you feel like you’re hotter than the sun, it’s actually freezing in here.”

We both know that’s not why I need his jacket.

Lark’s giving me a shrewd look.

He’s not sweet or submissive. He’s so masculine that he makes me want to snuggle against his chest.

Yet he’s as much an Omega as me.

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