Page 160 of Psycho Alphas: Part One

I could feel her in the bond with me, and she was chaos, like a picture that kept changing colours and shapes and size, a scribble of energy that couldn’t make up its mind. There was nothing in this connection I could pin down at all, and sometimes she shifted into something that didn’t feel like her at all. A dark shadow that swallowed the fragile edges, like an outer shell. A layer of protection.

It was something vicious, snarling, and dangerous.

I blinked, finding my gaze on Bunny, who she had released from a death grip. Violet galaxies blinked to life between smudged black eyeliner that blurred around her eyes and down her cheeks.

“We did it, Bunny,” she whispered, a smile wobbling on her lips as she drank me in. “We keep him forever.”

“You do.” The words were rough, and I shut my eyes, dread seeping into my bones.

Because my forever wouldn’t last.

When I gathered the courage to open them again, she was frowning.

“It’s okay.” She wriggled from my grip. “Just give me a minute. I can cheer you up.”

She didn’t know, yet.

I couldn’t tell her.

She scent marked me before I left, settling my nerves and sending my mind into a swamp of calm that had barely caught up before she was back in my vision, Bunny swinging in her arm, knife in her other hand.

Those eyes were so bright, so happy…

She held up the knife, eyes hopeful. “Can I…?”

I numbly tugged up the sleeve of my t-shirt as she clambered on the bed beside me.

I cleared my throat. “I’m yours, Kitten. You can do whatever you like.”

Her expression lit up, and next thing I knew, she sank her teeth into my arm with a little chirp of delight. She drew back, giving me a curious look as a drop of blood seeped down my skin.

The smile that tugged on my lips was real, though, as I eyed the mark she’d left. At my lack of complaint, she flipped the knife and got to work.

Watching her take her time carving out another heart along my flesh was like watching someone having an out-of-body experience.

Frosted moonflower was a blanket of calm contentment as she held the knife steady in her hand, and her eyes were fixed so intently on it, it was as if she wasn’t here anymore.

I almost got swept up in the trance. In the unfurling petals of her dark scent. A hum—which might have been a purr if she were capable of one—sounded in her throat. Finally, when she was done, violet galaxies peered up at me through thick black lashes.

“You like it?” she asked.

I peered at what she’d done, seeing a few little jagged hearts, and one large one containing the letters ‘T+R’ in the middle.

“Love it.” The words were thick.

Would they be healed by the time I was buried?

Yet this part, I realised, I didn’t regret.

Dying with her claim…

Dying with something to show for this miserable fucking life.

Still, the world flickered in and out, the last traces of my descent into madness lingering. Next thing I knew, Thistle had returned to my lap, her hands cupping my cheeks, her eyes dazed with joy.

Joy I’d given her.

She was mine; this strange and perfect Omega, almost feral with instincts trying to claw their way free, rough with edges of madness trying to contain a void, and eyes that, despite everything, hadn’t lost their wonder.

---