Page 27 of Tangled in Knots

“What about Demon?” I ask, finishing up my sandwich as he prepares to leave the room. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s headed up to catch some shut eye with Morris.

Fuck, just the thought makes me want to wrap my arms around the little rabbit’s body and use her as my pillow.

“He’ll figure out how to shut down the bond,” Jed states, finding a bottle of water to shotgun. Fuck, I don’t know how he manages to drink chilled water like that.

It makes my throat cramp and constrict in sympathy. I’m by no means a delicate flower, but my older brother is a fucking monster.

“Good luck with that,” I grunt. “I see him slitting his own throat or putting a bullet in his brain in an effort to give them both relief shortly after her sale. As you saw, if one dies, they both will. The bond is too tightly tied. I didn’t even know that was possible. The little rabbit managed to metaphorically knot punch him.”

“I still don’t believe it,” Jed says stubbornly, disposing of the bottle in the recycling bin before leaving me alone with the little rabbit. Fuck, the man is unfuckable with right now.

Blowing out a breath of frustration, I turn to face her and kneel at her side. Somehow, Jed had the foresight to put Demon’s shirt on backward so that his material is open where the buttons lie. The stark white bandage covers the wound, and I touch it gingerly. The darkest part of me wants to sink my fingers into it, prodding until she wakes up.

Shaking my head, I yank my hand away to keep myself from giving in to the intrusive thoughts, and allow myself to enjoy how pretty and peaceful she looks. Her chestnut hair twists and relaxes in waves down her back, her curves perfect enough to wrap myself around. The little rabbit is barely five-foot-two I realize as I gaze down at her.

So delicate and breakable. Is that why Jed wants to shatter her mind and body without a thought? Or is there something going on that I’m unable to see yet?

Shaking my head, I settle back on the floor and use Adira’s thigh as a pillow, allowing her sweet scent to pull me into a dreamless sleep. I never see anything other than darkness when I shut my eyes, and thought everyone was the same until Morris told me once about a dream he had.

Now, I’m both jealous and fascinated by the concept. I hope Adira is having enough good dreams in her drugged state for the both of us. It’s only fair if she’s the only one who can have them.

CHAPTER 8

DAMON

I’m sitting on the hard ground of Adira’s nest, gazing at the wall as I reach for the dull, quiet light inside of me. The little omega is confused and sleeping, and an unkind part of me thinks about how this is the time to make plans about her future. Adira can’t bring me to my knees, nor fight dirty by shoving her pain and screams into my mind.

So why am I still sitting here, paralyzed with indecision? If I was a better alpha, I would wholeheartedly fight for my omega, because she is mine. Yet, I’m hiding behind loyalty to my family, because I don’t know this girl. Her father was my dad’s enemy and it cost him his life.

But Adira? She’s a victim of literal crossfire, recovering from a gunshot. The reality still stands that she’s a stranger I’m tied to for the rest of our lives, however long that may be. I’ve never seen myself as a coward, yet saving an omega simply to keep my sanity and life feels selfish and flawed.

Shaking my head as if it’ll tumble loose better answers, I move into a kneeling position to gather up the blankets to wash them. I doubt Adira will be returning to this barebones roomagain after being shot. Something that is my fault, regardless of the pothole in the driveway.

Stupid.I know better than to keep my finger on the trigger while running, and have chased many prey through conditions worse than today. Breathing slowly, I attempt to shut down the bond between the little omega and I, while I kick myself.

“Fuck,” I mutter, blowing out a breath as I lift a bundle of laundry in my arms and stand. There’s a laundry room on this level that I saw, and I’m determined to do something productive while I work some shit out in my mind.

I’ve never ever considered going against my father until now, which makes the tiny omega a threat in many ways. I see Jed’s point in staying the course in not pissing Dad off, and I’ve always mechanically followed what he’s asked for.

My sexuality, morality, and sanity are all fucked for the privilege of being their good little soldier.

Gazing at the laundry machine, I look behind me, finding that I’m working on autopilot. I don’t remember moving. Huh. Loading the machine takes but a moment, because I’m not in the frame of mind to separate textures and color. I just need to do things. Morris’ sister can deal with the aftermath.

Hoping I didn’t fuck up anything, I twist the knob to turn the machine to the correct setting and hit the button to make it start. I swear, all of these machines are so different, and this one reminds me of a spaceship with its extra settings and lights. Snarling in annoyance, I turn away to begin to pace.

All I can smell is snickerdoodle cookies, despite no longer being in Adira’s nest. Bringing my hands to my nose, I inhale deeply, in awe that I am tied to not only another person, but my scent match. Me. A twisted and dead alpha who has always stayed as far away from omegas as possible.

I’m cursed to always feel off balance, never have control, and wonder what is my emotion and what belongs to the tiny omegaupstairs. I’m avoiding going back up the stairs to see her, though I hesitate to call it cowardice. Everything in my body wrenched while Jed was getting the bullet out of her back, forcing me to feel the full weight of my actions.

I need the space to think.

I have never once had to weigh what’s the right or wrong thing to do, because Jed has always been the one to tell me. He passed me the pills to force me into a rut when I was eighteen, and at that moment, it was the right thing to do.

“…Nothing like… your first time. Sorry we forced you.”

Jed’s apology floats through my mind as I force my feet to slow. Every step is making my breath quicken and burst out, pushing me toward a panic attack. I can’t afford to get lost in my memories and lose control, but I also need to figure out how to deal with them.

Losing myself to the dead space I’ve lived in for years isn’t something I can do anymore. Adira has already shown me it isn’t an option.

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