Page 66 of Lost
“Well, now you just want my ass. How the tables have turned,” I say with a smirk.
Both their scents become stronger, and I grunt as I feel my cock jump. Hazelnut and nutmeg have never been sexier. Ignoring my baser nature, I turn and head back to bed.
I’ve gotten used to denying myself what I want, and that’s not going to change anytime soon. These alphas are going to need to figure their shit out.
Laying beside Nova, I smooth back her hair, causing her to turn in her sleep and throw her leg over my waist. I love how casually she does it, and I snuggle her against me. I’ll never take this for granted.
I’m not perfect, and I’ll own that. I meant it when I told Nova that I felt responsible for her future and I wanted it to be a good one. I’m willing to help Caleb and Lars to a point, but they have to do the work too.
Breathing in Nova’s sweet scent, I close my eyes and allow myself to drift off. I find myself purring without realizing as I do, and the weight of my omega’s body pulls into a deeper sleep than I’m used to.
As I open my eyes, I find myself somewhere unfamiliar. The sheets are wrong, there are windows everywhere where none existed when I fell asleep, and I’m no longer wrapped around my omega.
I also can’t move.
Moonlight streams through the windows, and when I yank down with my arms to sit up, I find that they’re tied tightly to the bed frame in a Y shaped position. Turning my head I see blonde hair in my peripheral vision, and my heart stops for several beats.
I’m in a dream that’s not a dream, and not only that, I think this is a goddamn memory.
Pulling harder, I feel the fluttering of Nova’s heart beat, and the way her thin legs kick at the sheets.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
A door opens slowly, the hinge not making a single sound as heavy footsteps enter the room. Nova whimpers, but the sound is muted. That’s why my mouth feels funny: there’s a rag stuffed inside of it and tape over my lips.
There’s no way to spit out the gross tasting rag, and I gag despite knowing that it’s a nightmare. Sometimes, there’s a very tangible feeling to a memory, and I can’t say it’s not real.
Because it is, and my omega is reliving it. I feel as if I’m violating her privacy, but the reality is, as her bonded alpha, she doesn’t have much of that anymore. I could try waking her up…
Yet that doesn’t seem like the right move, at least not yet. I felt some of her fear of being tied up last night, and I think this nightmare was stirred up by my words. I deserve to feel every scream of terror and pain.
I did this. I believe in karma and retribution. I’ll bear witness to my Little Queen’s memories, and then spend the rest of my life tearing it apart so it doesn’t cut as sharply.
“Nova,” a deep voice murmurs, closing the door and locking it. The click of the lock feels ominous, and my heart feels as if it’s trying to burst from my chest.
The body I’m in is small and dainty, and I feel sick as I try to figure out how old Nova is during this memory. Tears slide down our cheeks as she struggles to breathe and I recognize the signs of hyperventilation.
“Shh, you know you deserve this, little girl. You’re mine. All I ever ask of you is to be my good girl, and yet you defy me. You’re going to take my cock and know that you drove me to this,” he growls.
Goosebumps rise all over our bodies as the man comes over and rips open Nova’s nightgown. His lip is curled in anger, andhe pushes down his sweatpants to release his cock. This is why she ran so hard.
Her terror, trauma induced reactions, and need for independence make so much sense.
“Don’t move, stop kicking,” he barks, and Nova gasps as she shudders. “Be good for Daddy, or I’ll fucking rip you apart.”
He just alpha barked at her, and while I know he’s dead because I’ve been told as much, I wish for his death again.
I know enough, I won’t allow her to go through the horror of being raped by the man who kidnapped and hurt her for her entire childhood. He’s stroking his cock, his eyes moving over her body as if he knows every part of her intimately, and that seals any curiosity I might have.
Pulling out of this nightmare takes a lot of effort, but it’s worth it.
“Nova,” I rasp, opening my eyes to find my gorgeous girl is awake and sobbing. “I’m here, I’m so sorry, love.”
She throws herself at me and I hold her tightly against me, whispering unintelligible words into her hair. At some point during the night, she rolled away from me, and she slipped into her nightmare.
“I felt you pull me out,” she gasps, her chest heaving with terror and exertion. “I hate him!”
“I know,” I whisper, my fingers digging into her skin as if to remind myself that we’re both out.
