Page 53 of The Omega Trials: Part One

I drop her hands like they’ve burned me, taking a few strides back. “Listen, I get why you did what you did. We chose this; you didn’t.” Her face is stricken, like she never expected anyone to see her side. “But I get why they did what they did too.” Instantly, her face hardens.

It’s a complicated jumble in my head. I got hurt because of the choices she made. My brothers made her suffer the consequences of those choices. And yet, somehow, I feel responsible for what she endured.

I feel torn in two different directions. I swallow the barbs in my throat. “What else?”

Her brows furrow, and she asks, “What else did they do?” I nod. “What does it matter? It happened, okay? I learned my lesson and know my place.”

I don’t like this answer.

Her submission soothes the alpha inside me, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel right, doesn’t feelearned.

An omega should submit because she accepts her alpha. Accepts his care, his protection, and in turn, offers her obedience, submission.

But this . . . No, this doesn’t feel right. And with it comes the familiar feeling of failure. I didn’t protect my mother. I didn’t protect Sinclair . . . . I don’t deserve her tacit complacency.

I hang my head like a dog tucking his tail. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” I go to leave, but cowering doesn’t feel right either. Walking away, pretending nothing happened . . . I turn to face her. “You don’t have to tell me. But show me.” Not willing to take no for an answer, I alpha growl the last sentence.

She looks bitter as she slides off the bed. As soon as her feet hit the floor and I realize she’s only wearing a shirt, I start to second-guess everything. Her smooth thighs disappear under the hem of the oversized tee. I don’t think I will be able to handle seeing the marks of another man on her, even if they are my brothers.

Under my command, there’s no room for her to have reservations. She begins lifting the shirt. When I see the first bruises, my jaw clenches so hard I expect my teeth to crack any second.

Somehow, I keep it together enough for her to finish removing the top. She’s left in only her underwear and quickly covers her chest with her arms. Without a word, she rotates, showing me her back.

The sight takes the breath straight from my lungs.

Bandages cover some areas that must be even worse, but the spots on her back that are uncovered look like she was dragged behind a car.

Her shoulders twitch like she’s uncomfortable with her back to me.

“Turn around,” I order.

She drops her arms. Her breasts rise with a vulnerable, deep breath as my eyes canvas her chest carving with fresh wounds. My stomach twists, my heart sinking. She may have poisoned me, but at the end of the day, she’s the one who is sustaining injuries. I’m standing here miraculously healed while she’s still bleeding.

I stand there mute, no words feeling adequate. Eventually, I pathetically say, “I wish there were something I could have done.”

She looks off to the side and chews on her inner lip as if in thought. After a beat, she says, “You really mean that? Even though it was your brothers?”

I’m not sure where she’s going with these questions, but I feel compelled to answer honestly. “Yes.”

My response makes her lip tug in a half-smile, like she just won a game I didn’t know we were playing. She lifts her chin and there’s a spark in her eyes I haven’t seen since before the games. “Then claim me.”

“What?”

“Make me your mate and they won’t be able to hurt me again.”

Everything

Sinclair

“What?”He looks like I slapped him across the face.

“Make me your mate and they won’t be able to hurt me again.” Now, he looks like he actually might pass out.

“No, I-I can’t do that,” he stutters, walking backward and shaking his head.

The light in my chest sours. I knew it was too good to be true, that his words were lies. Even when given the chance, none of them would put me above each other.

Suddenly, I feel like a fool, standing naked in front of him, showing him the wounds that are more than skin deep.

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