Page 19 of Impossible

A deep rumble starts up, running through my body. It resonates with my bones, unfurling the ties holding them together. My body spools apart, melting like warm butter. Every vibration is liquid heroin in my veins, a wave of calm washing away the flighty panic. A magic eraser for my terror. My heartbeat slows, matching the ironclad rhythm of Leon’s.

“You with me, little bird?” Leon asks, the rumbling stopping when he speaks.

I try to answer but all that comes out is a garbled mess. I have words, but they won’t come.

“Shh, I know,” the rumbling starts again.

“What—?” I finally muster together enough syllables to form a word.

“Your nervous system freaked, and you went down. It’s ok. I caught you, you didn’t hit your head or anything.’

The absence of the rumble feels like I’m missing my own heartbeat. I tap my hand against the source of it, asking for more. There’s a soft growly chuckle, then it starts up again.

Finally, my eyes are light enough to open. I’m looking up at Leon. The thing I tapped, the nice rumbly thing, is his chest.

My eyes widen in horror. I freeze in his arms.

“Shh, it’s ok.”

“No,” my voice is weak. He has no idea—this is exactly what panicked me to begin with. But in his arms, my body is suddenly finding it very difficult to be as terrified as my brain. Mentally, I tell my body to cringe. But it’s like I’ve been injected with a paralytic—no part of me responds. I’m not even sure I can feel my fingers or toes.

Everything is still moving slowly. I feel stupid. I wish I wanted to be put down, but all I want is to curl deeper into him. The light coming through the window is too harsh, I wish it were gone. I tuck my head into Leon’s chest, hiding from it.

“Fuck,” I hear him sigh, so quiet he probably thought I wouldn’t hear. “Do you want the light gone, little bird?”

I nod, keeping my face hidden. We’re moving then, but I don’t open my eyes, not until an electronic sound begins whirring and the red hue in my lids disappears.

That’s when I look again. The room is dark now, blackout blinds covering the windows.

“You’d probably be more comfortable in a nest,” Leon says softly.

“Nest?”

“Before you go into heat, you’ll always want to nest. You’ll want lots of blankets and pillows.”

I’m only half listening to him. When he speaks, the rumble in his chest is almost like the other rumbling. I want that one back.

Like he can read my mind, he starts doing it again. I smile. I’m drunk on it, I realize. It’s the only comparison I can come up with, though the euphoric blur of the rumble is far better than the static grey fuzz of alcohol. I wonder if it’s an alpha/omega thing. I wonder just how many alpha/omega things there are that I don’t know about.

My ignorance scares me. I knew Adams. I know nothing here. Before I know what’s happening, I’m crying.

I won’t go back. I won’t see Cam again, or Rose, or watch the show I worked so hard on go up. I won’t see my parents again, maybe ever. They stopped loving me years ago and just decided not to tell me. I had to find out like this, in a stranger’s arms, in a strange place, utterly alone.

“Shh, shhh,” Leon croons. My sobs only come harder, and after a moment he sighs, then starts rumbling again. It’s the only thing that helps. And that realization is perhaps the most heartbreaking of all.

6

Mutinous

Risk

Leftrightleftrightleft right left right.

There’s a tulip starting to bloom on the patrol route.

I avoid it the first twenty laps.

Then I make sure to step on it every time for the next twenty.

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