Page 156 of Broken Dreams

“You’re still talking to me,” Christian points out as I whirl around to face him. My face feels wet, and I realize I’ve finally lost my fight with my damn tears.

Raising my hands I drop them at my sides in frustration.

“Okay, fine,” he says. “I’m going to take a tiny bit of advantage here. I fucked up, Quinn. I should have done more at the club, insisted on buying your freedom. Or even planned some crazy escape the way your perfect alphas did.”

I feel a curl of worry from Duncan, but I can’t ease it. I feel like I’m falling through a tunnel of despair and anger. I want tofucking hate Christian, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt such an intense emotion outside of my feelings for my abusers and my father.

I want to rail and scream at Christian, but the words are stuck. I’m so frustrated, I shove ineffectively at his chest as I sob. I want to tell him that he failed Linus and I. I want to ask why he would care enough to help omegas that he’ll probably never meet by building the transitional house.

I want to know so much, but none of it matters because I fucking can’t get a word out.

Dashing away my tears, I practically growl at Christian.

“That’s cute,” he sighs, though not in a condescending way. “I didn’t know you were going to be here, I swear. None of these fuckers told me. It’s torture to sit near you, knowing you’re so close but vibrating with such anger. I could smell your incredible scent, Quinn.”

“Rude,” I mutter. His eyes widen, because I’ve never spoken to him like this before. He doesn’t understand that it’s a near miracle I’m able to say anything now since my very tongue feels as if it’s swelling from the stress of being near him.

I’m spiraling, and that’s a dangerous place for me.

“I’m not going away, baby. We’re end game, especially now that you know I’m your scent match. I could tell the second you smelled me,” he rumbles. “You’ll always look for me, just like I’ve yearned for you for sixteen fucking years.”

I flinch at that. Has he been feeling like this for so long? I don’t understand how when I can’t figure out if I want to climb him like a tree or stab him.

Evan runs out, his gaze zeroing on me before glancing at Christian.

“You’re not bleeding, which I guess makes you a lucky fucker,” he mutters.

“What?” Christian asks, appearing confused.

“Quinn could have killed you five different ways while you stood here looking like an idiot,” Evan says, sounding proud. “If you’re not bleeding, I dare say you may have a chance.”

Glaring at my self proclaimed guard, he merely smirks at me before seeing my tear stained cheeks.

“Can I kill him?” he asks softly. “Or at least stab him a couple of times?”

“You’ve triggered Evan’s wrath, I see,” Cian says, walking up to us quickly along with Adira.

I roll my eyes at them both, angry.

“Home,” I mutter, turning away. I don’t want to deal with anyone right now. I want to crawl into my nest and cry.

“Fuck,” Adira says. “There wasn’t time to tell you, Quinn.”

Cian knew.My steps stutter to a stop, my hands fisting. Unzipping my bag, I pull out my tablet, practically stabbing the words as I write.

“And now I’m cursed. Get fucked, Cian.”

Shaking my head, I continue walking as Cian, Adira, and Evan follow me for a very uncomfortable car ride home. I refuse to speak the entire time, my eyes gazing out the window, my tablet tucked away.

“You mentioned you didn’t know if you were scent matches once. Fuck, there was something keeping you from knowing until tonight, wasn't there?” Adira whispers finally as the gates to my home open.

My head nod is jerky as I answer, and I flinch as Cian curses.

“Goddamn it, I should have thought about that,” he grunts. “I didn’t know you had your senses back that way.”

I’m shoving the door open the second the car stops, ignoring their gasps as I nearly fall out. I need to be somewhere I feel safe.

Panic is clawing at my insides as I run for the door, and Duncan opens it in time to catch me.

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