Page 53 of Bound to the Guard

Damien’s brow furrows as he considers my question. “It’s possible the experiments the Doctor performed on you had anunexpected effect. Instead of only amplifying the scent meant to draw a mate, it intensified all of your pheromones, including the ones signaling fear and distress.”

His fingers card through my hair, a soothing rhythm. “If you were always afraid, as you had every right to be, the scent of fear likely overpowered anything else. It would have warned Alphas away, even when confronted by your Heat.”

Trying to process this new perspective, I chew on my bottom lip. Part of me is grateful that, in a twisted way, the Doctor’s cruelty spared me from being repeatedly bred like livestock. At the same time, I recoil from feeling anything but loathing being laid at the feet of the man who tortured me.

“I don’t know how to feel right now,” I confess. “While I’m glad I wasn’t…used to be bred, I hate that his experiments are the reason why.”

Damien’s arms tighten around me, cocooning me in his warmth. “It’s okay to be conflicted. What you went through was traumatic. But you survived. You’re here with me, and I will do everything in my power to help you heal.”

He presses a kiss to my forehead. “This is something we can work through with Dr. Foster. You don’t have to carry this burden alone.”

I nuzzle into Damien’s neck, breathing in his comforting scent. “I really do love you. It’s not the trauma or the post-Heat talking. If we’d never met, I don’t think I’d be as brave as I am now.”

“I love you, too. I mocked my brothers and cousin so hard for how fast they fell for their Omegas, but the second I scooped you off the driveway, you were mine.” He groans. “Does this mean I have to apologize to them for not understanding until now?”

I giggle against his skin.

With a pat on my ass, he rolls me off of him. “Come on. We need to get up, eat something, and replenish all the fluids we lost over the last day.”

He uses the house phone next to the bed to order the food before we untangle ourselves from each other and dress.

Without the Heat burning through me, I’m still not comfortable being naked around him, but in time, it will get better. It helps that the Band-Aid has already been ripped off, and Damien didn’t flinch at the extent of my scars.

I pull on a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt, while Damien changes into casual jeans and a T-shirt. As he stands in front of the mirror, fixing his hair, I take in the lines of his broad back. He’s so sexy, even in casual wear.

A loud knock sounds at the front door as we head toward the living room.

Damien’s steps slow, and he holds out a hand to stop me. “That was fast. I only ordered a few minutes ago.”

The knocking becomes more insistent, and Damien’s frown deepens. He turns to push me back into the bedroom. “Wait here, okay? I’ll go see who it is and be right back.”

“Okay.” Worrying at the ties of my hoodie, I stay put as he strides out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

A muffled argument comes from the living room, growing louder, and I stiffen when Damien’s voice raises in anger. “Hey, I didn’t invite you inside!”

My heart races at the sound of the familiar response, laced with desperation. “Where is my brother?”

Oliver, in my safe space. From the sound of it, he’s not happy.

Unsure of what to do, I stand frozen.

Damien’s response sounds like he now stands on the other side of the door. “You need to leave. Now.”

“I’m not going anywhere without my brother.” Oliver’s voice rises. “I’ve come to take him home.”

“It’s not your place to decide that for Seven.” Damien’s words hold an unyielding edge. “He’s an adult, capable of making his own choices.”

“He’s a child!” Oliver exclaims, and I flinch at the words. “He’s not in the right headspace to make decisions like who to fall into bed with! Not after everything he’s been through.”

At the words, my heart sinks. I was an adult when I moved out on my own. Why is he now relegating my mentality to a helpless child, incapable of knowing what I want?

“Seven is anadult,” Damien says, throat tight with anger. “Yes, he’s been through hell, but don’t negate his ability to choose where he wants to live.”

“You’re taking advantage of him,” Oliver accuses. “This isn’t a game.”

“I would never toy with Seven’s emotions. Never. What we have is real,” Damien growls. “We discuss everything, and we’re working with a therapist to help him heal.”

“You’re using his trauma to get what you want!”

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