Faith & the Dead End Devils (Sweet Omegaverse, #8)(15)

He'd read aloud from his book with a bit of coaxing from me, and had eventually let me draw him into my nest when I couldn't stop tossing and turning. I'd fallen asleep at last with him curled around my back.

And now Bear was back, staring at us from the bed.

"Hey, Butterfly."

"Hey," I croaked.

There was an obscure bulk of bags on the floor around Bear's feet, and he'd turned some lamps on, their bright orbs of light making the space confusing with too many shadows.

"King's got work for me tomorrow. We're going forward with sending the crew out. Can you stay with her?" Bear asked.

Chance's hand stroked the length of my back through Bear's shirt, just once, and his chest shifted as he nodded.

"Thanks," Bear said. He breathed deeply, then let out a heavy sigh. I wiggled in the cramped nest, sitting up and squinting at him. "Butterfly, when was your last heat?"

My cheeks flushed at the question. He'd asked the night before too, and I'd avoided answering. There was a firm edge to his tone now that told me I wouldn't be able to skirt the subject a second time.

"I've…never had one before."

"Shit," Chance said, scooting back, sitting up against the wall of the closet. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two," I said, wanting to smile at the tangible relief from both men. "Ad—the omega I was traveling with and I thought it didn't come in for me because we never really had time to rest? We were…running."

"The omega you were traveling with," Bear repeated.

"Please don't ask," I whispered, and I found Chance drawing me back into his chest.

"She doesn't have to trust us right away. We don't need to know everything," Chance said.

Bear cleared his throat, and I thought I heard a bit of that huffing laughter. "Agreed. Okay. Chance, does she feel feverish?"

"Um." Chance passed a hand over my forehead and then my throat. "Not right now, but she was a little heater while she was sleeping."

Oh no. I thought. And also, This will help.

"Butterfly, I think…I think probably the delay, the…trauma and then relief of yesterday, and…to be honest, my scent—"

"I'm going into my first heat," I finished for him.

There was a pause, and Chance clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Yes," Bear said.

Last night, I'd helped myself to climbing onto an alpha. I'd been itchy and hot, and I'd needed to feel him, touch him.

I'd been pulled out of a cage, rescued from being sold, and I'd climbed onto an alpha and humped him just to make myself come.

"Okay. That makes sense," I said, my voice small.

"I got suppressants for you today—"

"No," I said sharply.

But Bear continued, "And some…things you can use to take care of your heat. I can move out of this room temporarily—"

"No."

"We can find a different way to make sure no one knows you're here for a couple days, and then everyone who can't know about you will be gone with plenty of time for you to—"

"No! Stop!" I cried out.

Chance released me, and I scrambled out of the nest, up on shaky legs, tripping over bags and into Bear's lap. I grabbed onto his shoulders with tight hands, wrestling myself into his chest.

"Stop it. No pills. No pills, please." My cheeks were flushed with shame for the weak sounds my throat was making.

The pills made me sick. They made me hot and itchy. Cameras watching.

"Shh…it's okay, Butterfly, I've got you. But you need options, okay?"

Paper rustled behind me, and Chance whistled. "What—Is this what I think it is?"

"It's a knot."

"No pills," I begged, my throat tightening, stomach starting to heave.

Bear purred, and the sound was forced, but it still did the trick. "It's important that you know that you don't have to have an alpha for your heat. Or anybody. That's all, Butterfly. This conversation is going to get…delicate, do you want Chance to go?"

"Like you're doing such a great job by yourself," Chance muttered.

"No," I said.

Bear sighed and nodded, his chin bumping my shoulder, arms circling me. He pulled me from his chest, and I fought for a moment, letting out a sob of protest, before relenting.

"We'll come back to the heat. Next thing is…" He reached up, and I flinched as his hand came close to my eyes. "What's going on here?"

I stilled. His thumb ran just under my eyebrow. "What-what do you mean?"

Bear was quiet.

"Nothing," I lied.

"Your head's not bothering you?"

I chewed on my lip.

"Butterfly, tell me what this says." He twisted around me, reached down and pulled up a box, passing it into my hands.

I looked down, but I already knew the answer to his question. I couldn't read the words. And the box was non-descript, white with pale lettering that was even harder to make out, especially with lamps on and confusing shadows and my eyes filling up with tears that made it all worse.

"I—They hurt me. I hit my head on the floor. The next day, everything was fuzzy," I whispered.