Carefully, Jackson lowered me off his shoulder, setting me down on one of the couches. There were three, all different, making a semi-circle toward the large brick fireplace that housed a television. The couches were silky and firm, and wide enough that they could probably pass for beds if needed.
In between each couch was a cute woven basket. When Zeke lifted the lid, I noticed it was full of blankets, more sarapes. Offering me one, I shook my head, and he took one for himself, gently placing it on his lap as he sat down on my left side.
Jackson sat on the low table set up in the middle of the living space. It was at the right height for someone to rest their feet on except the clues on the top clearly showed it wasn’t meant to be a bench.
Someone had attempted to weave some fabric together, and considering how badly misshapen it looked, they weren’t doing a very good job. I’d always wanted to be an artsy kind of girl, I just never actually sat down and did it. Maybe I could pick it up and try with my alpha. Could be a good bonding experience. Or maybe I’d already learned how to do it and I was teaching my alpha. Hopefully I didn’t lose that skill and it was more instinctual than from knowledge.
Han came thumping down the stairs, his feet slapping against the hardwood flooring. He kissed the top of my head as he handed me a phone that was apparently mine.
It looked somewhat familiar. Just larger than I was used to, although not bulky. Tapping the screen, it showed a lot of notifications. Like, a lot. Some were from familiar apps, like the one where I found out where upcoming protests were happening. Most seemed to be messages though.
Dismissing everything, I stared at the photos as they appeared. So many. Full of a life I’d lived and couldn’t remember. I looked happy, that was something, but it was weird to see me in a way I didn’t know. Were we even the same person? Would that version of Hannah and myself react the same without knowing the experiences that made us who we were?
I jolted when hands touched my folded legs, having been so deep in my thoughts. Next to me, Zeke had reached over, his hand on my thigh and precariously close to my core. Han had appeared on my other side, kneeling in front of the couch and touching my knee. In front of me, Jackson had leaned closer, too, his elbows on his knees like he was a moment away from just grabbing me off the couch and pulling me onto his lap.
“We’ll make new memories,” Han said.
I nodded, trying to give him a reassuring smile. I didn’t want new memories, though—no I did, I just also wanted my old ones too.
And worst of all, I couldn’t seem to control my emotions. These pictures made me feel so disconnected with myself that I wanted to cry. It felt like my range of emotions were too extreme on either end, refusing to balance out and give me just a moment of peace.
I tried to find some inner happiness to pull on, something to replace the dissociation or to temporarily convince me that it was fine to forget large portions of my life. I found that happiness in remembering my first protest. It was a march, such a simple thing, and yet, I’d lied to the OC specialist assigned to me about where I was going. I’d slipped my alpha guard. The entire time I had been terrified, but it was so exhilarating.
That’s who I was. Determined. Brave. Fucking intelligent beyond the means of any other omega in existence.
I forced myself to feel better, tucking away the dark emotions.
“You all good, princess?” Sebastian came into the room, no longer on the phone and a deep frown over his features.
“Fine. Did the doctor give his permission for rough fucking?”
He chuckled, his gaze seeming to drop to the others. “We were recommended to wait as long as possible before giving in to your heat. Apparently, the trauma you sustained could cause your mind to react poorly to highly intensive situations.”
His words jogged my memory of something I’d wanted to ask. “So, what happened? Like—” I raised my hands before gesturing to absolutely nothing.
“To put you in the hospital?” Seb asked.
I nodded. “You said I was pushed by an officer?”
“Pulled technically,” Han said. The amusement in his tone died quickly, like he still couldn’t even make the joke.
Sebastian told the story, at least from how much they saw. No one knew what happened that caused me to run from the protest, or why the officer was chasing me. According to them, they’d gotten so distracted by my injury that they forgot to notice the officer. Or the asshole running away.
Out of everything, what shocked me the most was that I was even at a protest. And these alphas didn’t seem to care. They knew I was out in public without a chaperone.
“How come you all weren’t there?” It was an innocent question. A genuine one, too.
That didn’t stop the tension in the room from growing. I could scent the changes in the alphas, all of them, radiating guilt and shame. The dark emotions were turning their scents bitter, filling up the large living room until I felt like I was choking on it.
“Next time,” Jackson gritted out, “we’ll go with you. We won’t leave you alone again.”
Um, that wasn’t exactly what I’d asked. And despite the strong statement, both Han and Sebastian didn’t seem to be on board. They shared a look, somehow a mix between worried and unsure.
“Jackson, we should talk about this,” Seb said.
I tried to figure out what this division was. Were Sebastian and Han not in agreement that I should be allowed to go to protests? The two alphas did radiate a more prestigious vibe. Wealthier alphas almost required an omega in order to be taken seriously in society. Without one, alphas seemed too wild, too young, too poor.
Rather than wonder and pine secretly for an answer, I stared back and forth between Han and Sebastian, demanding, “You don’t think I should protest omega rights anymore?”