Page 19 of Outcast Island

It was the trauma of the Vampire Alpha blood in my system.

The blood I had been sweating wasn’t Magnus’s,I realize as my eyes widen.

It was the blood I had digested of any Alpha who wasn’thim.

“I’m an heiress,” I say as I recall my father’s cruel face. His bright red eyes were somehow always simultaneously dark, even though he made sure he never went hungry.

He didn’t just feed on my mother. It would kill her if he fed on her as often as he preferred—which meant he had many mistresses.

Nausea rolls through my stomach as I recall the culture of the Älva Nest and why Magnus might prefer to avoid it.

“But my father couldn’t find an Alpha that I was compatible with,” I remember as pain pinches in my chest, but I force myself to speak the unfolding memories aloud while Magnus quietly listens. “He thought I needed a sort of kick start into activating my Omega traits. That’s why he sold me to Bariloche Sector.” I swallow a lump in the back of my throat. “I was force-fed Vampire Alpha blood.”

Magnus curses but manages not to growl, which I’m aware is an impressive feat. “That’s why you were already into the first stage of your heat.” Molten anger burns through my back where I’m touching Magnus and winds its way down my chest. He’s not able to contain his emotion, and I shiver in response. But now that I know my purpose if I’m to become his bonded Omega, it’s a weight I need to learn to bear.

“They’re dead,” I tell him. I had been rescued, only for there to be an incident on the plane that resulted in me being in an escape pod all by myself.

There were other Omegas on that plane, too. I had befriended a couple, but their names continued to elude me. Still, I hoped they had escaped and landed far away from here.

“That’s why I was in an escape pod,” I explain. “I was on a return flight from being rescued, but something went wrong on the plane.”

I thought that might soften his rage, but all it does is add a layer of frustration to his burning hatred for Alphas who would do such a thing.

“Why didn’t your father just keep you in your nest and force-feed you blood, then?” he asks.

I frown. “Well, I required a catalyst to go into my first heat. And he was in need of Omega entertainment, which a place like Bariloche Sector provided.” It had been a win-win situation for my father. I would be primed to be forced into an estrus—something that I now know the meaning of. I couldn’t normally have a child, not without going into true estrus. And when I did, I would be capable of producing a child with whomever he approved, and he got to fuck around and feed on the side. “My contract was a loan. My father sold me, but only for a limited amount of time, expecting me to return ready to bear a child with a Vampire Alpha of his choice who could force my womb to open. And if I failed to submit after mytraining, well, I don’t think he really cared if I lived or died.”

Magnus’s growl rumbles to life, making me whimper. “This is yourfirstheat?”

I curl into myself as if that’s something to be ashamed of, but I know Magnus doesn’t mean it that way. “It is,” I say quietly.

We both go silent for a moment. It explains why I’ve been in so much pain.

The first vampire I encountered might have been an asshole, but he wasn’t wrong.

I need an Alpha to get me through this. An unaided heat, especially one of an Omega my age, is dangerous. Most Vampire Omegas go into their first heat around eighteen, and I’m twenty-five.

“So your father still lives?” Magnus asks with lethal neutrality to his tone.

“Yes,” I whisper as I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Can you handle me leaving you for a few hours?” he asks.

I know why he’s asking. He intends to kill my father for his cruelty. And given that he knows the location of my nest, he absolutely could pull it off.

While I’m not opposed to the idea, the thought of him disappearing again makes my stomach twist.

“Don’t leave me,” I plead as I grip his forearm and hold him to me with all my strength while I blink away burning tears. The mere thought of his absence sends fresh blades slicing me open from the inside, and I’m not sure if I could handle that sort of agony again. “Please, don’t leave.”

When I close my eyes once more, I picture his rage like a molten ball of fire, and I imagine dousing it with a waterfall. An endless one made of ice and soothing promises.

You will get revenge on my behalf, if you wish it.

But don’t leave me.

Not now.

Not when I need you.

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