Page 13 of Prodigy & Tybalt
But it was good to see Sweetie bleed. Even if I understoodwhyhe chose ChaCha, even if I’d spent most of the night thinking about it, unable to move past what she’d been through, it was good to see him bleed.
“The only thing stopping me from beating the absolute shit out of you,” Tybalt seethed, taking a slow, prowling step towards the bigger man, “is the fact that ChaCha is still traumatised and healing. If it wasn’t for her, I’d break every bone in your body.”
And then he smiled. Fractured, insane, a hyena’s smile.
“When you and whatever disorder is ruling your brain are done,” I remarked, crossing my arms over my chest and biting back a hiss at the sharp lash of pain the movement caused, “I want some damn shoes.”
Tybalt froze. Turned his head slowly, so damn slowly, to lock eyes with me. To emphasise my request, I wiggled my toes. They were cold. The bastards hadn’t even given me socks.
To be fair to them, they had no reason to help me, and I was being atadungrateful. But the realist in me knew they had an agenda, and it couldn’t just be helping me to assuage those protective alpha instincts. That would be insane. This operation must cost a fortune; how could they even afford to run it, and make powerful enemies along the way? The most logical explanation was they saved omegas, fixed them up, then sold them.
“Cute toes,” Tybalt said in a gravel-rough voice.
I made a throaty sound, forcing myself to move, to walk even if it brought me closer to Sweetie, even if it ripped my chest apart with claws so deep they punctured my lungs. “Get your kicks on the internet like every other foot-fetish-er.”
Tybalt snorted, some of the predatory ice leaving his expression, something warming, becoming more real, more human. “Give me a minute to finish up here, and I’ll get you some shoes.”
I kept walking, my body tearing itself apart on the inside where no one could see. “Don’t bother. He’s not worth the energy you’d expend.”
I kept walking, kept my head high, and I didn’t look at Sweetie once.
“Keep your fucking distance,” I heard Tybalt hiss, and then he jogged to catch up to me. “Any chance you’re going to share your name today?”
“Nope,” I replied, popping the P, walking as fast as I could without rolling my ankle. I breathed through my teeth, panted through the pain, putting as much distance between me and my mate as possible.
Not my mate,I snarled at my soul, my heart, my body as it fell apart, every cell in my bodyroaringat me to turn around and run back to him.Not my fucking mate.
“That’s fine. I’ll just call you Candice.”
I glared at Tybalt, having to tilt my head up to look at him. The moment our eyes locked, he ground to a halt and carefully cupped my elbow with his hand, guiding me to stop.
“You’re bleeding,” he said in a tone so low and fraught I couldn’t decipher it. Anger? Worry? Panic?
“I’m fine,” I bit out, pulling my arm from his warm, heavenly touch. The fucker was right last night when he said physical contact and purrs helped with the broken bond. I just refused to let him close enough to indulge that need.
“You have a fucking nose bleed,” he snapped, stepping into my path before I could storm away. “You are not fine.”
I shook my head, muscles on my neck flaring with aches, heat crawling up my neck. Actually, my whole body was hot, like seeing Sweetie had my rage scaling so high it could melt bone. “Shoes,” I bit out.
“Shoes and a hug,” he countered in a voice close to a growl. “And we’ve got a room ready for you, unless you want to stake out the eastern living room or move into a nest.”
My ears rang, my blood thundering through my veins. Oh, no. No, fuckingno.“I’m not staying here,” I said in a rough voice, my throat raw.
“Omega.”
My eyes fell shut for a second before I ripped them open again. This was not happening. I had my heat three months ago; I was nowhere near due for another. But the inferno scalding my body, the way it feltinsanewhen he touched me, the way my whole body melted when he called me omega… those were all tell-tale signs. I rubbed a hand over my jaw, brushing away the blood, my fingers shaking.
“I can’t stay,” I said. And for some stupid, unacceptable reason, I added, “A nest would be nice.”
Shit, fuck, andbollocks.
“Shoes, a hug, and a nest then,” he agreed easily, angling his head at the corridor as he set off walking.
Why did I follow him? I itched at my arms, my skin already sensitive. This wasn’t right. I wasn’t due a heat and—the buyer. That piece of shit. He must have injected me with a heat trigger or… or dosed the one thing he brought me to eat. Those vile, green shakes.
And it all made sense. Why he bought me only to touch me then beat me, why he never went all the way.
He was waiting for my heat.
