Page 108 of Soul of the Chaos

Bitterness rode the stinging shame of his final rejection, flooding my mouth. That alpha was made of stone. There could be no satisfaction—no warmth—found inside a heart of ice.

I should’ve been running toward our room—the one the Soul Reapers had loaned to my people—but instead my legs carried me up the stairs to my new safe haven. Angrily, I wiped the tears from my eyes as I shoved the key into the lock of my lovers’ den.

I needed to be somewhere comforting. Somewhere safe. This was the one place in the Soul Reapers’ compound that was starting to feel like my own. Because it was filled with the scents of my soulmates. The two wolves—not three, as the Goddess had implied—who would stand by my side no matter what.

Well, fuck, Grimm. We didn’t need him. We would survive on our own.

I threw the door open and buried myself in the queen-sized bed. Pressing Silver’s pillow to my face, I released the torrent of sobs I’d been holding back since Louise’s shell had laid lifeless in my arms. Slowly, Silver’s scent trickled in through the cracks in my desperation.

A sense of calm flowed over me like a balm. My omega’s belief that a bright future was possible for us all. It wasn’t, I knew that now, but I needed to hold onto his false optimism a little while longer.

Mongrel had tried to explain an omega’s unique place in a pack. I hadn’t really understood the true power of my mate’s magic until now. Silver’s essence—an indescribable blanket of peace—wrapped tenderly around my grief-stricken body as I curled around his pillow and let the overwhelming emotions leak from my soul.

Grimm didn’t want me. Didn’t need me. Wasn’t even willing to do the work required to figure out if what was between us was worth saving.

Well, fuck him. I had two beautiful and loving mates who wanted me plenty. My beta and my omega were ready to ride the waves of life with me no matter what the Gods threw our way. We were the ones who didn’t need Grimm.

Soul Reapers had taken to calling me ‘little alpha’ whenever they saw me in the corridors, even packmates I barely knew. They acknowledged my place here, even if their stubborn Prez refused to. If Grimm didn’t want us—if he was so determined to drive me and my people out of his pack—then I would have to be alpha enough for all of us.

My senses were dull with pain so I was only half-aware of the muted click of the lock and the soft closing of the door which followed. Mongrel had come to me. Though I was glad for his steady presence, I wasn’t up to moving just yet.

“Little one?” The bed dipped as my beta sat close by and pulled the blanket gently from my face. “Wanna talk about it?”

My giant of a mate tucked a stray hair behind my ear and cupped my cheek. A fresh wave of tears rolled down my face and I hated them. I hated feeling this weakness spilling out of me. Even in all my time with the Bone Crushers, I’d never felt this out of control. All because of one stubborn man.

I dashed the new tears away and sat up, scooting to the head of the bed.

“No.” I tucked my legs up under myself and let out a pathetic growl. “I’m fine.”

“Darling.” I heard the heavy thud of his boots hitting the floor. “There's nothing wrong with feeling hurt.”

“Don't need him.”

Mongrel just nodded—like it was true, when we both knew it wasn’t—and pulled me into his lap, leaning against the wall. The scent of him surrounded me, all whiskey and leather with the musk of man and fur underneath. I pressed my nose against his neck, rubbing the tip of it over the mark I had put at the join of his shoulder. He let out a hungry rumble, pulling at that insatiable, Chaos-driven urge deep inside of me.

“Four-way pairings aren't all that common, little one. And, if the stories are true, they tend to come fraught with tension and fireworks. Often the most dominant ones in the mating will butt heads until their animals settle.” I tried not to wince, not to let on that that was most of the problem. Silver and Mongrel seemed to relate to me as though I was already a wolf. An equal. But time and again, Grimm had pointed out my humanity like it was my greatest failing. “But if he’s yours, he’ll come around.”

The Sgt. at Arms tucked me in close to his body. It wasn’t close enough. That primal urge between my legs pulsed wickedly, demanding that I lay claim to the mates who offered themselves up so willingly.

“Don’t care.” I yanked at the hem of his shirt, trying to drag it up his chest without getting up. The warmth of his skin leaked into my body, making me feel languid and needy. “Off.”

“You sure that this is what you really want right now, little alpha?”

I huffed. My mate sounded far too amused by my very serious fucking need.

Mongrel helped me pull his shirt up over his head and then firmly tucked me back against him, trapping me in his delicious warmth. My fingers traced the lines of ink up the side of his chest. The railroad of scars and ink that told the story of a life lived hard but true to himself, to his brothers and pack, soothed me.

He shivered.

“Need you, Mongrel. Need my mate,” I whispered, peeking up at him through my damp eyelashes. Our bond surged with desire. It made me feel alive. Essential to his existence, just as he was to mine. “Make me forget this pain. Him. Louise. Mace. Just… all of it. Please?”

“Darling,” he sighed, shaking his head. The press of his lips to my forehead wasn’t enough. I needed those lips on mine. I wanted the battle of his kiss. The way he submitted to me after a fight and then filled up all of the lonely spaces. Instead, he pulled away. “This isn’t the way.”

“Fine.”

I pushed out of his arms and stomped toward the door, sniffing the air and tugging urgently on my bond to Silver. My sweet omega would never turn me away. Mongrel grabbed me before my hand could latch onto that knob and hauled me back to crash against his unyielding chest.

“No,” he growled quietly. “I can feel what you’re up to and just no.”

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