Page 23 of Broken Bonds

A shudder runs through me as I slowly exhale with my eyes closed. The other two join in with the first, and a cry that is both a laugh and a sob falls free of me. I cradle my arms around my growing belly and caress it as I murmur reassuring words to them. They settle down, content to listen to me talk to them once more at last.

“Je t’aime jusqu’à la fin.”

I love you until the end.

I have always been enthralled by the cultural aspects of France. The language itself is a thing of beauty, with its own unique charm and grace. It wasn’t unexpected that I registered for the AOA French class as soon as I learned of its existence. I dedicated a large amount of my time and energy toward my studies, and I was able to become fluent in the material by the completion of the course.

Taking a vacation to France was something I had been hoping for, as it was an opportunity to showcase my skills. We had it all planned out, but there was always something that needed to be taken care of that would interfere, so we had to keep delaying it.

I kept practicing with the guys to enhance my talents and sharpen my skills so I wouldn’t begin to forget due to lack of use. They had a deep admiration for it and found it endearing. They especially liked it when I uttered naughty words to them in French. Rule was particularly taken with that aspect.

I miss them. So fucking much.

“Rams?” Jilly calls softly, knocking lightly on my door before slowly opening it.

I remain motionless, like I always do. My eyes stay locked on the window, my psyche dragging me further and further into the darkness, and I don’t fight it.

I just want to sleep.

She takes a few steps closer until she’s standing in front of me, and then I hear her sighing. I keep my eyes low, not even looking at her, pretending like she doesn’t exist.

“Ramsey. You have to leave this bed. Live, dammit! If not for yourself, then do it for the babies. Do it for me. Don’t make me watch you deteriorate like this. I’m at my limit with how much I can endure in terms of loss,” she pleads.

I usually don’t respond, and she’ll eventually get frustrated, swiftly followed by her stomping out of here with so much attitude and exasperation that it almost makes my lips twitch occasionally. Sometimes she acts more like an omega than a beta, but right now, I bet she feels lucky she’s not an omega.

But my mouth is moving before I’ve even thought about it this time. Maybe it’s because I’m tired of hearing the same thing over and over. Maybe because I just want to be left alone with my pain.

“I don’t want to. I want to be with them,” I mutter, my voice completely lacking emotion.

I can’t even tell that it’s mine. It sounds so hollow, void of life.

Completely lifeless.

A growl of frustration comes from Jilly. “Godsdammit, Ramsey. This isn’t something they would want. They wouldn’t want you wasting away and risking yourself and the babies. Omega up and fight for your life!”

That gets a small spark of a reaction from me. A tiny flicker of anger ignites in my chest where my bleeding heart used to be, and I snap my eyes to hers finally, glaring hard.

“Well, they’re no longer fucking here, are they Jillian? They left! My world was taken away, and I’m left here, all alone, to pick up the broken pieces. There is nothing left for me here in this world. They ripped my heart out and took it with them when they took their last fucking breaths.” I sit up slowly, and thump my hand against my chest where my heart used to exist. “Don’t tell me what they wouldn’t want! You have no idea.No ideahow fucking hard this is. My will to live has been slowly draining out of me for days. Iknowthey would want me to move on, but I don’t have it in me to keep going without them! Who am I without my alphas, huh?” I’m screaming by the end — the most emotion I’ve shown in days — but I can’t stop now as pure rage and venom pours out of me, needing to purge it all.

My breaths gasp out of me as I shake and ball my fists, slamming them down on the bed repeatedly like a crazy person, my hair wild around me, obscuring most of my vision.

“Who the fuck am I without them?” I scream to myself this time, pouring all my frustrations out as I pummel the mattress beneath me.

Fury.

Grief.

Guilt.

It churns in my gut like a poisonous cocktail, pulling me down, down, down into the darkest depths of my mind where the shadows caress me and promise me absolute release if I justlet go.It whispers these dark promises over and over when I let myself sink, and so many times over the past week I’ve wanted to listen.

I hate them for leaving me. And gods, does that make me feelguilty. Logically, I understand they didn’t mean to go, but I’m no longer thinking logically. Every second that goes by without them here has me feeling like I’m losing my grip on my mental stability.

It’s as if losing the bonds to them snapped more of me than I’d initially realized.

My soul hasn’t only fractured.

So has my mind.

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