Page 9 of Chain Me Knot

“I need help in here! She's pulled out her IV!” A male voice shouts, raw with panic. His voice cracks with something that sounds like genuine fear. Not anger. Not cruelty. Just... fear. For me?

I sob as arms close around my waist, lifting me off my feet. My body turns rigid, waiting for the pain, the punishment, the inevitable reminder of my place. Instead, I’m cradled against a warm, firm chest.

His scent hits next. Masculine. Alpha. Prime alpha that makes Matthew’s scent a draft in the wind in comparison. This scent is thick. Filled with power. Smoked whiskey and worn leather wrap around me, and something inside me... shifts. The scent is nothing like the toxic markers I’m used to. This is safety and warmth and home, promising protection even as my mind screams not to trust it. It seeps into my bones, makes my muscles slacken against my will. I’m wrapped in warmth after an eternity of cold. I’m coming in from a raging storm.

“It’s okay, omega. You’re safe, I promise,” his deep voice whispers in my soul.

I tilt my head back, needing to see the face that belongs to this scent. Dark hair falls across his forehead, mussed and spiked in all directions. His olive skin is shadowed with stubble that hasn't seen a razor in days, and there are dark circles under his eyes that speak of sleepless nights. A muscle ticks in his strong jaw. His name drifts to me, remembered on the wings of a horrified tone.Asher.

The alpha who claimed me.

Asher peers down at me, the endless deep brown filled with something I can't name. Something that looks like pain and guilt. Like he's the one who's been hurt.

He's also beautiful. Strong jaw, full lips, the kind of face that belongs on billboards. But it's the exhaustion etched into his features, the worry lines around his eyes, the way he holds me so tenderly, as though I might shatter if he grips too tight, that makes me want to hide from the rawemotion on display.

I flinch at the movement at the door and press back against the alpha holding me. Two more men burst in, one with neat brown hair cut military-short, the other with disheveled blond waves. Both wear rumpled black uniforms like they've slept in them; both stop short when they see me. I recognize them too. These are the other alphas who came to me in the basement.

“Gods, she's out of bed!” The blond one's voice cracks with what sounds like shock. His blue eyes widen, darting from me to the bloody trail I've left across the floor. “Ash, she's bleeding.” His hands hover in the air like he wants to reach for me but is afraid I'll break.

Ash. That must be short for Asher.

“I know she’s bleeding,” Asher says, his voice harsh as his beautiful full lips twist.

“Nurse!” The blond sticks his head out the door, bellowing down the hall with enough force to make me cringe. My heart flips in my chest like it’s a hammer pounding hot metal into shape. I’m about to lose my shit with the sudden noise. The attention. Their scents and just…them.

“We need a nurse in herenow!” When the blond turns back, his face is twisted with apology when he takes in my state. “Didn't mean to shout, Omega. Just... you're hurt and...”

“Tone it down, Phoenix. She’s jumpy enough as it is,” Buzz-cut rasps. His voice is gentle. Solid. As though I could lean up against him in a storm and I’d be safe. I remember his name too. Soren.

The blond, Phoenix, gouges his fingers through his hair as he looks at me. “I’m so sorry.”

Why is he apologizing?

Their scents flow over me, dark roast and spiced wood and my muscles loosen from the death grip on my bones. The combination should be overwhelming, terrifying, but these scents... the scents wrap around me like Asher’s, promising all the things I thought I wanted but were beaten out of me.

Dangerous.

So, so dangerous because the promise makes no sense.

“How did she make it to the window?” Soren asks, his voice tight. He takes a careful step forward, hands slightly raised like he's approaching a wounded animal. Which, I suppose, I am. “She shouldn't even be awake yet. The doctor said...” He trails off, swallowing hard as he looks at the blood dripping down my arm.

“Determination, brother,” Asher says, his arms tightening fractionally around me. Not restraining, but... supporting? “Pure determination.” There's something in his voice that sounds almost like pride, but that can't be right.

Phoenix moves closer, completing their circle around me. But it doesn't feel like being trapped. Doesn't feel like being cornered. It’s like... shelter? Protection? My mind can't process this reversal of everything I know about alphas and their behavior.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Phoenix says softly, his blue eyes full of gentleness that makes me think I’ve lost my grip on sanity. “Let us help you back to bed before you do harm to yourself. We can’t have that. Not when everyone has worked so hard to save you. The nurses here would hand my ass to me on a silver platter. They arethatscary.”

An almost-laugh bubbles up in my chest. The sensation is so foreign, so forgotten, that it dies before it reaches my throat. When was the last time anyone tried to make me laugh? When was the last time anyone spoke to me like I was... human?

My thoughts scatter like startled birds. I don't know what to feel, what to think.

“What's your name, honey?” Soren asks.

I freeze. My name? It's been so long since anyone called me anything but 'omega' or ‘whore’ or ‘slut’ or... other things, bad things I try not to remember. My name is distant, belonging to someone else. Someone who existed before the basement, before the darkness, before I learned what being omega really means.

The girl who had that name died a long time ago. She died the day her parents died. Just after her omega designation sentenced her to this life. The day thosealphas put that chain around her ankle. I'm not her anymore. I'm nothing but the ghost of that girl, and ghosts don't need names.

I shake my head. Speaking is dangerous. Everything is dangerous. Panic claws up my throat. Too many alphas.

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