Page 32 of Bound By Pain
Pursing my lips, I flip onto my back, keeping one of my hands intertwined with hers. “That’s a whole other bucket of bullshit.”
“Fucking Alphas, right?!”
“If I could forget their scents and find a hot all-female band whose scents I can tolerate, I’d abandon them in a heartbeat.”
Omen rolls her eyes so hard I can practically hear it. “No, you wouldn’t. You’re already attached. Which is exactly why you’re so frustrated with them. Give them hell, bestie!”
We’re quiet for several long minutes, lost in our thoughts. “So, who is Mr. Tall, Dark, and Slightly Terrifying?” she finally asks.
I cackle, clutching my stomach when it pinches from how hard I’m laughing. Wiping a tear from my cheek, I hold up my hand for her to high-five. “His name is Creed. He’s the mystery mate whose pain I’ve been feeling for the past few weeks.”
“Oh, no! He seemed okay. What happened?”
“The breeding ring.”
“Well, shit. You met him there?”
Nodding, I give her the basic details of our meeting. Nothing too in-depth, because I’m not ready to touch on all of that yet.
We talk for a long while. Catching up on her life and chatting about nonsense. When the door opens, the aroma of earthy spices assaults my senses. My mouth is already watering by the time Shiloh and the others’ hand me a bowl of still-steaming beef broth Pho.
Omen laughs, patting me on the back lightly as I dig into my food. She moves to sit on the long couch with her mates, enjoying her own food. We settle into light conversation and laughter as we eat. It’s wonderful, and exactly what my head needed to get my heart in line.
After a while, Oms steps back up beside my bed, offering me a soft smile. “We’re going to head out and let you rest. If you don’t get discharged in the morning, we’ll bring lunch tomorrow, okay?”
Her Beta mate, Callisto, steps to her side and whispers in her ear before handing her a small box. She blushes from the close contact, stars twinkling in her eyes as she looks at him. For a brief second, jealousy spikes through my heart, watching the ease with which they interact. Then I remember the hell he helped put her through, and it fades just as quickly.
“Here. You lost your phone in the chaos, so we grabbed you a new one,” she tells me, passing it to me.
“Oh! Thank you! I hadn’t even considered needing to replace it.”
“Call me if you’re staying again tomorrow. Or if they release you. Either way, I’ll see you tomorrow!”
I grin at her, glaring at her mates as they get ready to leave. She may have forgiven them, but I will not let them forget theirshitty actions so easily. They owe her an eternity of groveling and a lifetime of endless orgasms.
Having a nurse come to check in with me every four hours has been terrible for my sleep schedule. I’m so fucking exhausted. It is unreal.
Unfortunately for the guys, this means I’ve been super bitchy all morning.
“Good news, sunshine!” Ridley announces as he walks back into my room. He’d gone to find me coffee, only to return with the awful vending machine shit they sell downstairs. When I immediately spat my sip back into the cup and burst into tears, he had left to find me something better.
An unsuccessful task, given that his hands are empty.
Unfazed by my crossed arms and narrowed eyes, he waltzes to the side of my bed and grins down at me. “They are preparing the paperwork to release you!”
Okay. At least he actually had good news. However, I am still salty about the lack of caffeine.
“Perfect,” Shiloh chimes in from his spot across the room. “I will prepare things for us to head back to New York in a few hours.” Phone pressed to his ear, he heads out of the room before anyone can comment.
My teeth dig into the inside of my bottom lip as I stare after him. His presence here has soothed me on an instinctual level. The warmth of his amber and white sand scent has done wonders to keep me centered in reality when panic seeps back in.
But I can’t help but questionwhyhe is here. When I was forced to stay at his apartment by the DAU—and every day since—he made it abundantly clear he has no intention of joining my future pack. His unwillingness to share me with my other mates was a point of contention in every one of our arguments.
A small part of me, the piece still clinging to the hope the rest of me has abandoned, thinks he has changed his mind. The larger, more practical part of me isn’t inclined to believe he’s here for any reason outside of guilt and instinct.
“Do you want to shower?” Orion asks gently, distracting me from my wayward thoughts. “The nurses left waterproof bandages we can use to cover your stitches.”
Glancing down at the mini nest I made of their clothes, I find myself reluctant to wash their scents away. What if we get back to New York and all go our separate ways again?
