Page 154 of Captive Omega

I keep my eyes on the patch of grass just outside the window. “Sometimes I have nightmares and I rarely ever remember them. The ones I do remember are so bad that I know the others must be worse. I think I was having a bad one last night. When I woke up, there was an empty glass beside my bed and someone had covered me with a comforter. It was you. Wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

I meet his gaze. “What did you say?”

“Not much. Just that you were safe.” He pauses, his fingers briefly flexing. “I stroked your cheek. If you think that’s creepy or?—”

“It wasn’t creepy,” I interrupt, trying to imagine his touch. Honestly, I should find it creepy. “What else did you do?”

“Brushed your hair back. And I purred. It seemed to help.”

It would. An alpha’s purr can comfort a hurting omega. “What did I do?”

He hesitates for a beat. “You seemed to like it.”

He’s my scent match. We’re physically drawn to each other, biologically and scent compatible. Of course I would like his touch. It’s probably why he can handle me touching him more than he would anyone else.

“And you were just going to let me stab you?” I stare at him in disbelief, a sick churn in my gut that I could have done something I wouldn’t have been able to take back.

Vaughn told me that if there was one thing Blaine would never do, it was hurt me.

I didn’t believe him, and I should have.

“It was omega territory. I shouldn’t have?—”

“It’s okay. You were trying to help. Hardly a stabbing situation.” Though I nearly made it one.

His eyebrow rises. “A stabbing situation?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. Did I say anything in my sleep?”

He doesn’t immediately respond. Which is not a good sign.

“That bad, huh?” My nerves are a ball of spiky weight in my belly.

“You were crying out. Telling someone to stop. No, you said, please stop.” He speaks so reluctantly it’s clear he didn’t want to tell me at all.

I refocus on the window.

I’d known it would be bad. But this level of bad…

I gulp, trying not to think through all those nights I woke with dried tears on my cheeks, bathed in a cold sweat, and no memory of what had caused it.

So many nights.

No wonder I could never remember. My mind was protecting me from reliving the same hell I’ve lived over the last two years.

“Kidney punches,” Blaine says suddenly.

My eyes fly to his. “What?”

“I owe you another self-defense lesson. Vaughn will agree.”

“I think he might have a problem with that,” I say. Then I remember how excited he was about me kicking him in the knee. “He ditched our last lesson.”

“He’ll be there for this one,” Blaine assures me.

“You’re hurt.”

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