Page 95 of Lost
My heart races as I stare at this beautiful omega who had a really fucked up history, and my eyes heat as the full reality of her words washes over me.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” I rasp, letting her see how I’m feeling. I spend too much time hiding it because of my own history.
Feelings get you killed, even though I’ve been out of that life for a few years, it’s no less prevalent in my thoughts. I’m a few years older than Nova and Hollis, and my dad groomed me from an early age to take on an enforcer role.
The only person I was allowed to be soft for were my best friends. That was my father’s line in the sand.
“Your promise to yourself kept you safe?” Caleb whispers.
Snow begins to fall around us, and everything feels quiet and still in the aftermath of Hurricane Nova.
“Yes,” she says, heaving in a breath as tears flow faster down her cheeks. “I stayed in the closet and… bashed my head against the wall to keep myself from leaving. If I passed out then maybe the pain would stop.”
“Nova,” Caleb growls. “You will never have a heat like that again. Not ever. I don’t think I ever apologized for fucking up so epically at the hospital. I didn’t even try to understand what you were trying to tell me.”
“It sounded crazy,” she grumbles.
“It doesn’t. Not really,” he insists. “You and Hollis have always been meant to find each other. The universe is just doing it in a really odd way.”
“It would be great if it chilled the fuck out,” I sniff.
“Right?” she giggles. There’s a lot of hysterical emotion in that laughter, but I’ll take it. “I just wanted you to know. I still don’t know what direction I’m going in, and I’m feeling fragile after my heat.”
Nova presses her lips together as if she’s said too much and I growl at her.
“Don’t do that. Tell us what you need.”
“I need more than you’ve been giving,” she blurts out. “Everything you’ve done today is amazing. I don’t want that to disappear. I can’t do the yo-yoing of emotions back and forth. I have whiplash, I’m raw from everything happening, and I need…”
“Stability,” Caleb finishes.
“Yes. I can’t do this anymore. It makes me do stupid shit in an effort to be able to control anything in my fucking life,” she explains.
That makes so much sense it’s hard to believe that I didn’t figure it out before.
“You got it,” I purr, rubbing my nose against her. “You’re ours for a reason, the learning curve has been steeper than it should be. We need to talk to each other, baby.”
“I hate the nickname ‘Princess’,” she complains. “I don’t care when it’s used for other people, but I personally hate it.”
“Won’t use it,” I promise.
I can see by the way that her eyes are fluttering that she’s tired.
“Do you want to go back to bed and nap?” I ask, already heading back inside.
It’s hard to believe we’ve already been out here an hour.
“Are you staying?” she breathes, sounding as if she’s already on her way to sleep.
“We can,” Caleb says. “Do we need to set an alarm for you?”
“I’m not working today,” she mumbles. “I’m off the rest of the weekend, barring any issues.”
The unspoken words speak volumes, because I bet that midwifery is spent at the mercy of babies and their own timeline.
“Then we’re going to take a nap,” I decide. “I’ll come pick this all up afterward.”
I hope it doesn’t snow hard while we’re in bed with her or it’ll be a bitch to find glass later. It’s a good thing it’s not anywhere near where anyone drives. There’s a large, empty field to my right that appears to be someone else’s property. I don’t even see a house anywhere.
