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I embrace her automatically, even while shock echoes through my body. She’s here to thank me?
And this swell of urgency I feel isn’t anger or hatred it’s… gratitude?
Dear God—What else have I gotten wrong? How accurate are these feelings coming through? Or is it just me, thinking I know what’s happening without ever really asking her how she feels?
One of my palms cups the back of her head while the other winds around to her opposite hip, securing her against me.
“I don’t want you to thank me,” I reply.
I truly can’t stomach it. Every time she offers even a speck of appreciation, I want to flay myself alive.
Something about hearing me say so must upset her, though, because her scent darkens and her stomach flips.
I sigh, trying to explain, “I’ll never deserve it, after what I’ve done to you. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make all of this up to you, but I don’t want your gratitude. It only throws everything even more out of balance. I owe you. Let me try to make good on that.”
But our little omega just presses herself closer and whispers the words again.
chapter
thirty-nine
Avery named this chat Snitches Get Stitches (no Thorne-y Bitches)
Serena
Avery…
Avery
yeah, baby?
Serena
why did you make us a side chat?
do you have some sort of secret scheme or something?
Avery
me?
never.
Jonah
Ave, I stg if you get Serena hurt, I’ll kick your ass.
Avery
simmer down, old man.
eat some jello or something
Serena
anyone care to fill me in on what’s happening?
Jonah
