Page 29 of Who We Were

"W-would you like to sit?"

21

AMAYA

The vibes are gray. But like a lighter gray. And getting lighter by the minute as I soak up his presence beside me. Meer inches away is an alpha who basically just devoted himself to me. I could kick him to the curb, and he would still be here for me.

I believe him.

It's clear that Kate and Beckett vouch for him. I mean, they told him where I was for fuck’s sake, but it's also the look in my mate's eyes. There's nothing demeaning or vile about the way he looks at me, not like what the academy tried to teach him.

When I look at him, I see a man who has worked hard for the sureness and passion I see in his gaze. I have never looked into someone’s eyes and felt like I was seeing inside their soul. Vincent bared himself to me while kneeling on the dirty floor of the cafe. I don't know him, but I know his scent and it'smine.

A fourth mate.

One that doesn't look at me with disdain and hatred. Vincent looks at me like I'm more. More than an omega, more than the obvious exhaustion weighing my existence down and definitely more than my trauma.

He almost makes me believe that there's something beneath the touch-starved girl who doesn't want to be touched. Listening to his words, I want to believe that there's something beneath the omega who flinches and cowers away from stupid things.

And maybe it is true. I am more than my issues, but the thing is, there are so many triggers beyond what I've already found. Who's to say I'll ever understand what else I am if the well of PTSD and insecurities is deeper than I thought. I can only hold my breath for so long.

Since seeing Samuel, my breaths have become shallower, but sitting beside Vincent, I think I just might be able to dive deep enough and find the woman beneath the scar tissue. This alpha, the one with a scent I couldn't shake for the past year has breathed life back into me. Not a lot, and certainly not enough to keep me going. I have to do that myself.Iam the only one who can keep myself from drowning.

I just need a reason, and I think this tattooed hunk reminded me I've had one all along. There's a woman beneath the scared little girl, who deserves a chance to see the light. She may be in dark, murky waters, but she's not stuck. I just have to find the path down and pull her up.

For the first time since being rescued, I think I know how to survive.

‘Mate,’ my omega swoons.

Well yes, but no,I scold gently.Us.

The only way to truly heal is to find a way for my omega and me to exist as one. I've spent so long suppressing and extinguishing her that it's going to take some work, but just this little breath of life has cleared my vision.

I want to live.

It's too soon.Right? It feels too soon.

"Have you thought about what you'll do with the spare rooms?"

I might be shaking. I thought this was a good idea. Hell, I even convinced myself that moving in alone would be a good idea. Except now the movers have left, same as Paul, and now Kate is reaching for her purse.

Oh, and not to mention, I invited Vincent over to come see the house too. I don't know if it was too soon to invite him over, mate or not. He's still a stranger, but now I don't think I can let him go.

Fuck, just the idea of Kate and Beckett leaving me here alone is making me tremble.

The cheese and meat platter on the kitchen island, courtesy of Paul, has been touched by everyone except me, and I think Vincent is starting to notice. His steady gaze on me makes me hot and nervous all at once.

"Uh no, I haven't really thought about it," I reply to Beckett.

He opens his mouth, his bright blue eyes twinkling a little too mischievously, but Kate stops him before he can say anything. "Nope, don't say a word, Beck. We're leaving before you make a crude joke."

"But it wouldn't be a joke," Beckett pouts.

Kate rolls her eyes and sweeps me into a hug before I can protest. I wrap my arms around her and sink into the embrace. Just for a moment, because soon I'm going toactuallybe alone in this five-bedroom mansion.

"Drive safe," I murmur and pull away.

She gives me a watery smile, stepping back. "Text me," she says. It almost sounds like a plea.

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