Page 72 of Carmichael's Omega

She lays down obediently as if she has no more strength. As if she trusts this male. "Mattie," she whispers.

"Mattie," he repeats. My name rumbles from his blood-soaked chest. My name from his lips makes me curl into a ball. Shame and fear curdle the air.

"Mattie," the monster, no, Carmichael, repeats.

I start to cry softly. The truth is settling, fileting my insides. This monster is my mate. My mate is my twin sister's lover. I'm naked, hurting, and covered in Dylan's scent. A whore. He's going to reject me for her.

He comes closer, the heat off of his body like a furnace. Fingers close over the nape of my neck. He leans in, inhaling my scent, growling low and menacingly. I whimper helplessly. My teeth are chattering from the fear.

"Shh,nene," he says. "Shh, little omega," he says just loudly enough for me to hear. His big, calloused hands stroke my body, making bile rise at the thought that he's seeing me, scenting me, while I'm covered in Dylan.

"Carm?" Cassie murmurs, drawing my attention to her. "Please don't hurt him." She is crawling to us, white-faced with blood dripping down her cheek from the wound on her head. "Please," she murmurs, swaying.

Carmichael leaves my side to go to her. I feel jealousy burn in my gut. Goddess, how weak I am. I just swore I would do anything for her, and here I am, resentful that we are both saved.

Closing my eyes, I curl up in the bed, feeling the sting of all my wounds. It's nothing like the pain slicing my heart. A soft weight is settled next to me. Cassidy's scent fills my nose as she cuddles in next to me, nose to nose.

"Mattie, are you hurt, Mattie?" she slurs. I don't respond, don't open my eyes, but I wrap my arms around her, holding her as tightly as I dare to.

"Shh,MiAlma," Carmichael's deep voice washes over us. Cassidy whimpers. I hear movement as he shushes her.

"Concussion," he says darkly. There is a menacing, dangerous tone to his voice. Then, I feel his hands roaming over my skin. It's not a bad touch. He's searching out each wound, each scratch, and scrape.

He looks over every inch of me that isn't plastered to Cassie. Then, he reaches down and runs his fingers over the swell of my butt and pulls my cheeks apart. I stiffen, but he just shushes me, too.

"Shh,Nene. Let me look."

"No clinic," I beg him. Humiliation scores me once again. My mate knows I'm some kind of whore.

He's quiet for a full minute. His fingers brush over my hole so softly, but it still stings. I inhale sharply, and he stops touching me there.

Oh, Goddess, I just want to throw up.

It hits me like a ton of bricks. "Gio? Did Dylan hurt him and..." I stir, my eyes opening, and meet Carmichael's ice-cold eyes again. Shuddering, I let my gaze fall.

"The male is your friend?" Carmichael asks. His energy crackles between us. I'm so lost, so confused, so exhausted. All I understand is that he's my mate, but even now, he's stroking Cassie's hip gently, his fingers under her shirt to touch bare skin, his gaze fixed on her face in concern, as if he can't go without touching her for too long. She's his world, and I'm nothing.

"Yes. My... my bodyguard," I choke out.

Carmichael growls. "I may kill him myself," he says quietly, looking us over again. Violence, barely held in check, simmers in the air.

I gasp, but it's Cassidy who draws his attention. "No, Carm. Please, Gio is our friend."

My mate gently brushes her cheek with the back of his hand. It's such a gentle, loving gesture. My cheeks burn with bruises left by Dylan.

I start to cry again. I just want everything to stop for a while. Carmichael murmurs to Cassie, "Cassidy? Where's your phone,Conejita?"

"Countertop," she mumbles.

Carmichael walks to her phone and, a moment later, begins to speak to someone in rapid Spanish. When he ends the call, he walks over to us again. "Rique and Miranda are on their way,Corazon," he murmurs to Cassie.

Carmichael scoops Cassidy up into his arms, nuzzling her cheek as he walks over to the lounge and lays her down. He strips her clothes off, along with whatever piece of Dylan rubbed off of me onto her. Her dress gets discarded with no hesitation as my mate gently examines my sister again and again.

When he stands and walks toward me, I cringe at the expressionless look on his face. Then I'm being pulled from the bed and led into the bathroom.

"Gio?" I ask in a whisper. Numb, except for all the hurt, I watch his back muscles ripple as he silently turns the shower on.

"We'll find him,Nene. I have wolves looking, now." Carmichael pulls me into the shower, grabs the bar of soap, and starts to wash me. I shiver at his every touch. He's not being sexual. Every stroke of his fingers, of the soap bar on my skin, gives me goosebumps, but he doesn't seem to react at all. It's done mechanically as I stare at the tile wall and blink away the tears.

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