Page 51 of Fallen Omega

I stagger, but Dante makes no move to help, makes no move at all, just shows me his hateful, cold, impassive face. I grab at the bed then sink down, dragging the now cool water bottle to my lap and digging my fingers into the purple silicon, the water sloshing as I do.

It soothes a little, that sound, the feel against my fingers. But it’s a lie, a fallacy.

The pain is rocking through me. Both agonies now. Inside my body and inside my heart. And I squeeze my eyes shut to stop the burn and blur of tears. I’m definitely not going to cry in frontof this demon.

I swallow. Hard. Over the hot lump that makes it hard to breathe.

Dad lied through omission all the time. I knew it. He had to lie. His past had been locked and bolted away, along with the truth about whoever my mother was. That she died is the only thing I know for certain. And to stop the Council from taking me, my father ran with me.

But dad was Connor. Connor Roth. Like I’m Lizette Roth. If he had another name, he’d have trusted me with it.

Right?

Right?

Elias Enver. The name’s known. A murmur and whisper. Passing conversation with peers of Dad’s. Just in earshot of me I’d hear it. But—and it’s a bigbut—they all called Dad Roth or Con. Or Connor.

If it’s true, it makes my life a lie. A joke. It makes me wonder what I don’t know.

I stare down at the water bottle.

“My father… Dad’s name was Connor Roth. He was shunned. We both were. Apparently now I’m not.”

“You know his real name.”

“It isn’t.” I push it out. And I know it’s a lie. It makes sense. And the grown-up part of me even understands it. But right now, the little girl who’s still crying for her dad is hurting over this. “I’ve heard that name. But everyone called him Con or Connor.”

Dante sighs, irritated. He doesn’t like me, I can tell. My body might want him like I crave him, and we haven’t even really touched, but I don’t like him right back.

“Elias Enver’s a wanted man,” he says. “He wasn’t shunned. He was on the run. Which you know.”

“I don’t…I don’t know anything. If you have a problem with him, it’s too late. He’s dead.” A tear escapes, and I smack it away.

“Doesn’t change the fucking fact you wandered in hereand fucked the status quo. Fucked the equilibrium and probably would have fucked the pretty, curly haired asshole, too. Jesus, you already got him to mark you.”

Panic slams into me and my hand flies to my throat. The place that hurts and feels so good. I press into it. Feel the shape by the sensations.

Bite mark.

Oh, holy hell.

“I didn’t ask for this,” I say.

“You were humping him.”

“I’m not the only one involved,” I snap. “And I was drugged.”

Dante doesn’t comment, but the set to his mouth spikes my blood pressure.

“I’m not some kind of femme fatale,” I say.

“No, you’re definitely not.”

“Ass.”

“Here’s the deal. You’re in heat. So, you’re staying here, with us.” His gaze drops to the hot water bottle. “I’ll have another sent in. And some sourced omega blockers. That’s why you were in the Hollows that night?”

I nod, my chest tight. “How long will I be a prisoner?”

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