Page 125 of Bitter Truths

I give a slight nod.

“You know… from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve just accepted your fates.”

“What do you suggest that we haven’t tried?” Weller’s voice is deadly quiet.

“We’ve done it all,” Owen snaps.

“The bonds…” Freddie starts.

“Montgomery has said trying to break them will kill us. Some kind of safeguard built into the chemical compounds to enforce compliance,” Tristan offers.

“And you believe that?”

“You don’t know what we’ve been through, Bianca,” he responds. “The things they’ve done to us when we’ve tried to resist… tried to reclaim our freedom. The pain is… there’s a reason we think they might be telling the truth. Do you think we fucking want this?”

An ache forms in my chest.

“I can’t do this again,” I whisper.

“What do you mean?” Freddie asks, his eyes wide.

“This is impossible. All of it.” I move closer to the door, ready to get out of this suffocating room. “The options are… you belong to her or you die? I... I can’t compete with that.”

“You’re not competing,” Owen says, eyes locked on mine. “There’s no fucking competition. You’re ours.”

“That’s the whole point.” I touch the door handle. “I can’t be yours because you can’t choose me.”

The words land hard, wounding them but tearing through me too.

“Text me when you’re home,” I say without turning around. “So I know you made it safely back to your omega.”

The door closes behind me before they can see me completely fall apart.

In the elevator, I press my back against the wall and let the tears come—huge, heaving sobs that shake my entire body.

Because I love them.

And just like before I left, it’s still not enough.

I push through the door to Winston’s room and force a smile onto my face. Mom and Dad are there, hovering around his bed like anxious birds. Winston looks better—alert, sitting up, color back in his cheeks. But his eyes find mine immediately, and I can see him processing every detail of my appearance.

“You look like hell.” His voice is still rough but stronger than yesterday.

“Gee, thanks.” I move to his bedside, keeping my voice light. “You’re one to talk, sleeping beauty.”

Mom laughs, relief evident in every line of her body. “The doctors say he’s making remarkable progress.”

“Of course he is.” I squeeze Winston’s hand.

We make small talk for a while. Mom chitchats with us about random things, Dad grumbles about the hospital coffee, and I stand there nodding and smiling like I’m not slowly dying inside.

“Your mother and I are going to get some real coffee.” Dad pushes back from his chair. “And maybe some decent food. You two want anything?”

“I’m good.” The words come out too quickly. “Gonna hang out with Winnie for a bit.”

Mom kisses Winston’s forehead, and they both leave, promising to be back soon.

The moment the door closes, Winston’s entire demeanor changes.