Page 145 of Knot Your Fated M.U.S.E.

"Six years wrapped in carefully constructed lies, and I can't even remember what came before. How I ended up there. Whether I walked in willingly or was delivered like so many others."

My voice catches as memories surface.

"There were rumors about families selling their omega children to the facility. About parents convinced by promises of 'treatment' and 'correction' for designated offspring they saw as defective. But I don't...I can't remember if that was my story. If I had family who gave me away or if I simply appeared there one day with no past to speak of."

Sadness wells up unexpectedly as other faces flash through my mind.

"Azurite, Luna, and Riot. The Omegas in the room with me before we got separated. I didn’t really know them prior to that. We were gathered and chosen based off another trial of survival and we were the only ones that escaped death,” I reveal. “Those weren't their real names. I created them, like a child wishing toplay with dolls in hopes of some form of normalcy in a brewing nightmare."

My hands clench in my lap as emotion threatens to overwhelm.

"I couldn't even communicate properly at first. Felt more animal than human, reduced to basic instincts and survival responses. The fact that I can speak now, form coherent thoughts... it's probably because I finally feel safe enough to remember language."

Atlas's steady presence as he holds me offers an anchor as painful memories surface.

"They were my first friends…and last, I guess. Riot..." Pain lances through my chest at the name. "Riot didn't survive the last challenge. We had to sacrifice one. Those were the conditions, but I felt like there could be a way where we all win. I thought…truly believed I was incapable of friendship, but in that prime challenge, we shared bits of ourselves and dared laugh in one’s company. After that whole fiasco, I got separated from the other two, and it made me realize how alone I’ve been all this while. It also proved that being a defective omega meant I was deserving of isolation, because if I didn’t meet anyone, it meant no one would get hurt. No one would die…"

"But now?" Atlas's quiet question carries no judgment, just genuine interest in my realizations.

"Now I understand what Ravenscroft stole from me. What they tried to convince me was natural inability was actually careful programming." My voice drops lower as implications stack up. "It's satisfying to know they failed. That I can still form connections, still respond to proper alpha presence. But it's also…haunting."

"Haunting?" He supplies when I trail off.

"Yes." The word comes out barely above whisper. "I'm haunted by all the experiences I never had. All the normalmoments of discovery that should have been mine." Heat rises to my cheeks as I force myself to continue. "I never had a real kiss. Everything was...forced. Clinical. Designed for someone else's satisfaction rather than genuine connection."

The admission hangs in the air between us as I gather courage to voice deeper truth. "I never...I mean, I didn't..." My face burns hotter as I struggle with words. "Sex wasn't...I couldn't..."

Atlas's arms tighten fractionally, offering support without pressure as I fight to explain.

"After experiencing how empty those forced kisses felt, I couldn't bear the thought of losing something so intimate in their sterile rooms. Not when everything else already felt so mechanical and wrong." The words rush out now, carried on waves of long-suppressed emotion. "I knew... I mean, I understood they wanted to prove I could function that way. That my designation should make me responsive to any alpha presence. But after those kisses..."

My voice cracks slightly as buried pain surfaces.

"Losing your virginity is supposed to be special, isn't it? Memorable for the right reasons, not because it was another checkbox on their endless experiments. That was the one thing I couldn't let them take. They already stole my memories, my sense of family, any chance at normal education or early experiences."

Tears burn behind my eyes as the full weight of loss settles deeper.

"They took away my right to make mistakes and learn from them naturally. Every error in their facility carried a potential death sentence. But this...this one precious thing...I couldn't let them steal it too."

My mind is filled with silence, the shadows retreating and I guess allowing me this moment of confession to be between me and Atlas.

"They took so much," my voice emerges thick with unshed tears. "My past, my autonomy, my ability to trust or form connections. But they couldn't take everything. Couldn't completely destroy my capacity for choice, even if that choice was simply refusing to give them one more piece of myself."

Atlas's silence carries weight of perfect understanding. His presence behind me offers steady support while his scent wraps around us both like a protective shield against darker memories. The gentle rise and fall of his chest against my back provides rhythm that helps steady my racing thoughts.

"The worst part," I continue after gathering composure, "is knowing how many normal experiences I missed. Things other omegas take for granted – first dates, awkward flirting, butterflies in your stomach when someone special pays attention. Instead of natural discovery, I got clinical assessments and forced responses."

It’s frustrating to even think about now.

“We took medication that delays Heats, so we don’t even get to experience what it’s like. I guess it’s a good thing, but it makes me worry. Will I experience Heats in time like normal Omegas? Will that make it so I can conceive in the future…if I get to that readiness to bring children into this world.”

My fingers trace absent patterns on his arm as I voice deeper fears.

"In the end, I feel like I should know how to do this. How to be an omega responding to compatible Alphas. How to navigate pack dynamics and building connections. But everything feels new and terrifying because I have no foundation for normal interaction."

"You're doing perfectly fine," Atlas murmurs, his lips brushing my temple with infinite gentleness. "There's no guidebook for recovering from what you endured. No timeline for healing or discovering yourself."

"But what if..." The question catches in my throat, weighted with years of conditioning. "What if I never learn properly? What if I'm too broken to be what a pack needs?"

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