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Because I’m a selfish piece of shit who rejected her to save myself. Then let her reject me in order to save her.
From what?
My past? My own tendency to fuck shit up?
It should maybe be concerning that a concussion has made me more introspective.
I peel my gritty eyelids open again, watching while Meg reaches for a wispy silk robe lying along the rim of the nest. Silent tears track down her face. So quiet, I never would have known about them if I hadn’t opened my eyes.
That suddenly seems like an appropriate metaphor for this whole mess.
I need to open my goddamn eyes.
My hand fumbles, reaching for hers without grace or strength. But, still, she takes it, wrapping her little fingers over my palm to give me a reassuring squeeze I don’t deserve.
But fuck me and what I think I deserve.
What about her?
I hold fast, keeping us connected until her gaze meets mine. “Meg, do you want me in here for your heat?”
Her brows curve up. Her mouth pinches open. And for a moment I think—I really believe—she’ll say no.
Because of course she will. I’ve done nothing to build trust with her. I’ve never given her any sort of affection that wasn’t motivated by guilt or lust. I lost control and rutted her while we were both essentially unconscious.
Why the hell would this sweet, perfect omega want a knot-headed asshole like me around her when she’s at her most vulnerable?
But then she answers. A single hushed word. “Yes.”
The look on her face would be enough to wind me if I weren’t already gasping. She looks so sad. So sure she’s about to be rejected once again. It hits me then, like a ball of lead to the chest—or maybe like a linebacker to the head.
Meg genuinely hurts without me.
She cares.
The one question that springs into my mouth is sickening. But I have to know. The words come out as a weak whisper.
“Why, baby?”
Her hand shakes in my grasp, her words wobbling. “Because you’re a part of them, Declan. And I love them.”
She ducks her head, hiding her face as she adds the single most devastating thing anyone has ever said to me. “I want to love you, too,” she murmurs. “I wish you would let me try.”
chapter
fifty-seven
Meg emerges from the nest, tugging her robe closed and pulling the door shut right behind her.
My heart aches subtly, pumping longing through my chest. I hate myself for it, but right now I’m jealous of my semi-conscious packmate. He’s the only person she’s let into that nest since the day I showed it to her.
The envy quickly morphs into a whole host of other, more aggressive feelings when I see our omega mopping under her wet eyes.
To my surprise, Ronan is the first one across the room. He bends to the side, putting his face level with hers and wrapping both hands around her jaw. “Baby girl,” he whispers. “Come here.”
When it comes to her own comfort, we’re used to Meg fighting us at every turn. But, this time, she melts right into our pack alpha’s chest and starts to sob against the collar of his shirt.
I’m frozen, halfway between the loveseat I was pretending to read in and the scene unfolding in front of me. When Theo doesn’t bound up from his perch on the edge of the bed and insert himself, I turn to find him bent in half with his head in his hands.
