Page 38 of Who We Were

"I don't know what to do with myself. The house is too big. I don't know what I need or want. I'm never hungry, but I can feel my stomach eating itself. I haven't explored enough to find a nest spot, but I wouldn't even know what to do once I found a suitable space."

She pulls back from my neck and looks down at her lap. Her small fists grip her sheet and start subtly tucking it around us.

"I think you might be surprised if you allow those instincts to guide you," I say, studying her behavior and allowing my own instincts to show me the path forward.

Amaya pauses what she's doing but doesn't say anything, nor does she look at me. That's okay, everyone processes differently.

Trailing my fingers down her arm, I softly ask, "What has your omega been needing these past few days?"

She stiffens but relaxes in the next moment, seemingly accepting whatever conclusion she just came to.

"You," my mate whispers and pierces me with her golden gaze. A tear glistens in her eye, but her bottom lip stays firm. "I need you, Vince, but what does that say about me? I don't know what to do, even the most basic tasks feel daunting since moving here alone. But..."

"But what?"

"They spent so long trying to force us into the most submissive creatures."

Ah, I understand."Needing help from your alpha in a time of need doesnotmake you what they tried to create, Amaya. It shows your strength." At that she frowns, but I smile and continue. "You're being vulnerable and after so long beingvulnerable in the worst way possible shows your growth and your trust in me."

Amaya's head cocks even as her eyes droop. She's fighting sleep and maybe fighting my words a little bit too.

"I'm here and I'm not going anywhere, my strong little mate. You rest, then we'll tackle the world later, okay?"

A small smile brightens her dainty features right before she curls into my throat again. It's not long before Amaya's soft breaths tickle my neck, and I thank fuck she's finally getting some sleep.

Even in sleep, I'm not leaving her. Never again.

"So you'relike the black sheep of the family," Amaya ponders, licking her lips.

I've been regretting the ice cream sandwich I offered her since she spread those pretty lips to eat it.Especiallywhen her damn tongue licked the center filled with vanilla ice cream.

I clear my throat, for probably the seventh time in the past five minutes. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." I shrug at her description of my place in my family.

Amaya woke up forty-five-minutes ago seemingly rejuvenated and ready for a snack. I have a theory that a large part of why she's been struggling is my poor little mate is touch starved. Sleeping on my lap for the past two hours this morning has done wonders for her attitude and complexion.

There is still a ways to go when it comes to her relationship with food, but I'm happy she ate her muffin and demolished her chocolate treat. My protests about her eating food left onthe porch all morning died when her eyes rolled back into her head when she sniffed the blueberry muffin. As long as Amaya is eatingsomething,I'm happy. We will work up to balanced meals.

"If I didn't know from experience, I would say everyone is better off without their parents," she grumbles and gets up to wash her hands.

"What experiences?" I ask, following my mate like a puppy. I love seeing her more lively with no tears in her eyes.

When she asked about me and my family after swallowing the last bite of her muffin, I couldn't tell her no. The sparkle in Amaya's eyes was back once again, and her genuine curiosity about where I come from loosened my lips.

I hate talking about my family. Those pricks don't deserve my breath, but what my girl wants, she gets, and if what she wants is my story, then she can absolutely have it. Even if my molars are getting a beating from how hard I'm trying to keep my resentment from tainting our time together.

Amaya stiffens just a little.I wonder if she hadn't meant to say that. "The guys—" I growl at her words, but she just chuckles. "Their parents were thebest. My memories of them remind me not all parents will sell their children or disown them at the drop of a hat."

I really want to point out that those people didn't raise upstanding fucking kids, but I don't I won't ruin her views on the only adults she had in her corner.

"So how did you end up at the academy?" Amaya asks, leaning her hip on the counter while drying her hands.

Without the sheet wrapped around her, I have a full view of her black leggings and my sweatshirt. My low growl turns into a rumbling purr at seeing her in my clothes. Once she crawled off my lap, she got cold, so of course I gave my mate the sweatshirt off my back.

I hum, stepping into Amaya's space. Watching her face for cues, I wrap my arm round her waist and pull her flush against me. "Same reason I didn't fight going to rehab; it was the perfect opportunity to get away from them. I didn't want to be controlled or forced to be something I wasn't anymore." I snort at that, and she frowns.

"But—"

"Super unfortunate, right? Escape my rich, shitty parents, only to fall into a controlling, rich school that was basically a cult."

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