Page 15 of In Their Arms

“Luca Ellis.” Her voice is much firmer now as she clamps her hand around my leg. “Calm down. Look at me. There you go.” The softness is gone, an angry Beta staring at me. “We placed a salve on your bites to temporarily numb them so you aren’t constantly bombarded with all of the chaos. You were brought here so that you could detach from the ongoing investigation and find some peace. I assure you that if you let yourself relax a little bit, you’ll find that you can enjoy yourself.”

There’s no fucking way she’s bonded and telling me that. No way that she’s telling me not being able to feel my mates is preferable to knowing that they’re okay, that they’re coming to get me. For the first time in a really long time, I’m completely alone in my head and I hate it. The silence is deafening, threatening to consume me, my Omega whining for what it thinks it’s lost. And then I catch the small window off to the right, thick metal bars running along the frame, reinforced. My stomach turns, a sick, twisting dread curling through my gut, because this isn’t a sanctuary, and it sure as hell isn’t a safe space. It’s a cage.

One glance back at Nola and I know she realizes I’ve caught on. “What really is this place? I know it’s an Omega center but what is it really for?”

Her shoulders fall as she stands, smoothing down her dress. “It’s a place created to rehome Omegas. Many are brought here from terrible situations, this place providing safety where they’ve had none. Some of them believe that they’ll fare better on their own so there are certain lengths we’ve gone to ensure their safety. Luca, I’m sure when they rehome you, you’ll find the peace you’re looking for.” She leaves me with a tight smile, closing the door after her.

Rehoming me is such an impersonal way of saying that they’re ripping my mates from me. I’ve heard horror stories but never thought they were true. They were supposed to be nightmares to scare little Omegas into being submissive and pliant. The idea of running through scent cards and being forced to pick someone else is just not going to happen.

They can block my bonds but that won’t stop me from wanting what I’ve just gained—what they’re trying hard to rip from me. I’m sure it starts with the salve and grows to something else but I won’t let myself be here long enough to find out what that is.

The longer I sit here, the silence curling in on me, I start to realize how wrong everything is in this room. Even with the dim lighting, the walls are too white and the pillows just… not mine. Rage builds in my chest until I’m chucking the plush mess onto the floor, growling with every blanket I chuck across the room. I even discard the comforter until it’s just the cold, hard mattress left and I’m on my knees, my hands fisted on my thighs.

I don’t want their things. I don’t want this.

I want home.

There’s no emotions from my bonds, just… nothing until an absolute crushing dread slams into me. My bond with Blake isn’t a physical one, a tether created over time that should be impossible but exists out of spite. Blake knew this would happen. He’d been freaking out about it ever since they took Luther from us and now I can feel the horror of being separated from my first love in a way that I hadn’t before.

"No, no, you can’t take him from me,” I plead into the stale air.

The memory of his voice echoes in my head, that frantic panic in his eyes as the nurse led me away, as my legs buckled under me, as I tried to hold onto something—anything. I choke back a sob, curling tighter, my nails digging into my palms. I try to breathe through it, try to push past the weight of it all, but it’s too much. It’s too fucking much.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but the tears start anyway, streaming down my cheeks and soaking into my shirt. The threat of Hudson stealing me away was always my worst nightmare but this? This hurts so much worse.

10

Blake

It’s the same damn nest I have had for years, the same blankets, the same pillows, the same scent that has always wrapped around me like a second skin. But now, everything feels off, like someone came in and ripped it apart and tried to piece it back together without knowing how it was supposed to fit. I’ve refluffed the blue one in the corner what feels like seventeen times and stolen three shirts from Luther’s hamper.

It doesn’t feel like enough and I already stole both MaceoandGrayson’s shirts before climbing back into my nest and then promptly kicking them out of the room because nothing was working. And now I’m trying to find a comfortable spot and am failing miserably. This isn’t even about them stealing Luca from me, my heart shattering into a billion pieces. This has nothing to do with the fact that Maceo and Grayson promised they wouldn’t let Luca be taken away from me.

The same way they promised they’d bring Luther back.

I’m not really angry with them but my biology is working against my rational mind, every little scent and shift bothering the fuck out of me. Quentin told me this was going to happen, that everything was going to feel disorienting for a little while until my body adjusted. Until it figured out what the fuck was going on. But I didn’t think the change was going to be this sudden. Didn’t think it would fuck me up this bad.

I had to be sedated after Luca was torn from me and while I was out, my system was flushed of all the blockers I had stocked up on over the years. Every last bit of those suppressants were gone the moment I woke up and now it’s like my Omega instincts are front and center, driving this goddamn awful train into a ditch.

Instead of falling into it like an easy comfort, like riding a bike, I’m fumbling around, confused and a little terrified of my own body. Not having all of my mates here to figure this out just makes it worse.

I swallow, rolling onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. My limbs feel heavy, my skin too hot, something beneath the surface simmering, building into something I do not want to acknowledge. Even my cock is responding, twitching in my pants as I try to think about spiders, that awful employee we had to fire a few months ago, or even Starlight Falls failing.

None of that works as sweat beads on my forehead and gathers along my spine, my body telling me that there is no more time.

I should have known it was coming. Quentin had mentioned the possibility, had explained the way my biology would try to fix the imbalance, try to pull my pack back together the only way it knew how. But hearing it and feeling it creep through my bones are two very different things.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to breathe through it. It is not a full heat yet, just the warning signs, but it’s enough to make me uncomfortable, enough to make the space around me feel wrong, like something is missing, like something has been stolen.

Because it has. My heart and soul are locked up in a fucking Omega Center. One of my Alphas is sitting in a jail cell. And the other two are trying to hold it together while everything falls apart.

I grimace, pressing my face into the pillows, fingers gripping the fabric too tight. A sharp pain spears through, the horrid feeling of a heat cramp rendering me breathless. My lips part in a gasp as I curl tighter into myself, knowing that only one thing will soothe this and yet, being too stubborn to ask for it.

The strained tension in my bond with Luca is starting to overwhelm me, tears gathering in my eyes as I let out a soundless cry, my lips parted but nothing coming out. I claw at my chest, wanting to rip my heart out, rip out the feelings making me ache and crave the one person I can’t have. And when a tendril of heat mixes with the anguish, I reach for the pills Quentin prescribed. They’re supposed to be taken in moderation to help with the heightened emotions, something to help me come to terms with my heat.

They’re also fantastic at numbing everything else out so I don’t have to feel. I rip open the little bottle before grabbing one pill and swallowing it dry. It’s my third one today but I don’t care. Anything to not feel.

It takes a few moments to kick in, my body going lax, my ability to care fading slightly. The despair clawing at my mind dissipates and I’m able to breathe for just a little while. It won’t last but for a moment, I don’t feel like I’m dying.

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