Page 38 of Claimed By the Psychos
My lip curls back in a snarl. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know trauma when I see it." He reaches for something on the tray—a muffin, chocolate chip from the smell—and holds it out. "I know what it's like to trust no one. To see threats everywhere because everywhere you've been, therewerethreats."
I stare at the muffin like it might explode. My stomach growls, betraying me. When did I last eat? Yesterday? The day before? Time gets slippery in places with no windows.
"It's not poisoned," he says with a sad smile. "We're not the monsters you think we are."
"Everyone's a monster," I tell him, but I take the muffin anyway because my hands need something to do besides shake. "Some just hide it better."
"Maybe." He watches me pick at the muffin, not eating, just dissecting it into crumbs. "Your partner?—"
"Don't." The word comes out sharp enough to cut.
"I was just going to ask how he's doing."
Felix shifts in his sleep, mumbling something that sounds like my name. I run my fingers through his hair, an automatic comfort for both of us. "He's fine," I lie.
"He needs proper treatment," Archer says carefully. "Whatever he's hiding, whatever reason he has for refusing help... it's going to get him killed."
The silence feels like an accusation.
"He has his reasons." My voice sounds hollow even to me.
"I'm sure he does. But you love him, don't you? Sometimes loving someone means protecting them from themselves."
The shadows laugh at that.The truth always finds a way.
I don't realize my nails are digging into my upper arm hard enough to draw blood until I see Archer's eyes widen as mine adjust to the dark. He reaches out and his fingers brush my skin before I can process anything.
"Don't touch me," I snarl, lashing out on instinct, my nails digging into his hand hard enough to draw four long stripes of blood to the surface. "Don'teverfucking touch me."
"I'm sorry," he says, and he sounds like he means it. "I didn't mean—I should have been more careful."
Felix stirs again, the smell of blood finally penetrating his drugged sleep. His eyes crack open, immediately alert despite the medication. "Juniper?"
"I'm fine," I tell him, eyeing Archer's bleeding hand warily.
"It's okay," Archer says, still bleeding, still not retaliating. "It was my fault. I'll go."
He backs toward the door, movements slow and deliberate. No sudden moves. No aggression. Just a wounded alpha retreating from an omega who's more weapon than woman.
"I'll leave the food," he says. "And... I'm sorry."
The door closes behind him with that serpent hiss, and I'm left with blood and skin under my nails while the shadows dance and whisper their cryptic warnings.
Felix sits up despite the pain it must cause, pulling me against him. "What happened?"
"He touched me," I whisper into his chest. "Just for a second, and I... I couldn't stop myself. It was like I was back there, back with them, and?—"
"Shh." His arms tighten around me. "You protected yourself. That's all."
"I hurt him. He was being kind and I hurt him."
"Kind doesn't mean safe."
But something in my chest feels wrong, like I've broken something that might have been important. The sunshine scent lingers in the air, mixed with blood now.
"You smell different," I say quietly.
