Page 51 of The Omega Trials: Part One

I push up into a seated position, expecting searing pain in my side, but I don’t feel anything other than the stiffness of sleeping on a hard bed and lying in one position for too long. The mattress protector crinkles with my movements and Titus jolts awake, his fist tightening around a small knife I’m just realizing he was sleeping with.

The wild alertness in his eyes fades when he sees it’s just me. “Hey, bro, welcome back to the land of the living,” he says in a croaky voice.

“You look like you stink.” I laugh and my voice is even rustier than his, having not spoken in two days.

“Cracking jokes already? That stuff they gave you must have really worked.” He shrugs sleepily and sinks back into the chair.

“Which was?” I’m genuinely curious. I’m not in pain, but my mind isn’t foggy like I’d expect if it was just pain killers.

“Alpha hormone enhancers.”

“Hmm . . .” I pull down my sheet and see only a swatch of gauze taped to my side. Carefully, I peel the adhesive back and look under the bandage. My first instinct is to double-check the date because no way is this just two days of healing. I don’t even have stitches.

“Well, damn.” I exhale, taking in the light pink strip of freshly healed skin where a nearly fatal gash should be. It looks more like a cat scratch.

“How do you feel?”

I stretch my arms over my head and shake out my legs. “Like I’ve been asleep for two days, but otherwise, pretty good.”

“Good. Good.” He nods.

There’s an awkward pause, and I know we’re both thinking about the same thing, sameperson.

“So, uh . . . ,” I start hesitantly. “The last thing I remember is Ecker telling me she would pay.” I’m not quite sure what my question is. Maybe it’s because I’m not sure what answer I’m hoping for.

Titus clears his throat and scrunches his nose like he’s reluctant to engage in a distasteful conversation. “She didn’t know the games were to the death,” is all he says, which leaves me with one more question.

My throat feels uncomfortably tight. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been here for the past two fucking days,” he erupts, shoving the bin with his foot as he abruptly stands. He runs his hand over his tightly cropped hair. “I mean, Jesus, man, why do you even care? You almostdiedbecause of her.”

WhydoI care?

Even if I can’t explain it, I’m certain I do. Why else would her well-being be the first thing on my mind after waking up?

His eyes bounce around the room as he paces at the foot of my bed. This anxious and unsettled behavior is uncharacteristic. Titus isn’t one for regret or guilt, but the way he’s acting makes me wonder if he finally went too far . . .

“She still our omega?”

“Yeah.” He scoffs, sitting back down in the chair. He sounds fed up, but I can’t tell with what. My questions, her, this entire Trial shitshow? I don’t know. His face is unreadable. “She’s still our omega.”

I hesitate, my fist hovering over Sinclair’s bedroom door. Shedidalmost get me killed.

And yet, ever since I asked Titus how she was, I’ve had this gnawing feeling likeI’mthe one with something to apologize for.

When I got back from the infirmary a few minutes ago, Ecker told me she has barely left her room since the games. He was out the door heading to a gym workout with the Beryll alphas before I could ask anymore questions. Titus is finally taking care of himself by the sound of the shower in his en suite running.

I tap my foot, debating whether I should even knock. If she wanted company, she probably wouldn’t have locked herself in her room for forty-eight hours. I’m not used to feeling indecisive, and it makes my chest tight.

I’m used to being able to quickly weigh and measure every option before picking the best route forward with confidence. So why is a goddamn door making my stomach flutter?

My heart lodges into my throat when the door suddenly opens. I stumble back as Seventeen nearly collides with me. The plate and silverware on the tray in her hands rattle as she jumps, startled.

Processing it’s me, she quickly clears her expression and retrains her gaze on her feet. “Excuse me, Alpha, sir. I wasn’t expecting you.”

I step out of the doorway to let her by. “Can I see her?”

Her eyes flit up to me with a flash of confusion. I realize why when she says, “Of course, whatever you wish.”

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