Page 74 of Rot In Knotty Pieces

I stare at him, trying to find the hate I used to have for the murderous part of myself I’ve been denying forever.

“Yes. His hands were all over you. His tongue in your mouth. He didn’t deserve to live. And he was trafficking women. But mostly, because he was touching you, and you were mine.”

Sage leans over me, his whole body pressing against mine. His cheek grazes my cheek, my eyes widen as I wait. His lips touch my ear.

“Did you commit a crime because you were jealous, Detective?”

I shudder, but the rage returns just thinking about it, and I twist, rolling and flipping him so he’s on his back on the kitchen counter. He doesn’t even try to fight me. I lean over him, baring my teeth, trying to ignore the raging hard-on in my pants.

“Yes. I did. Four times.”

I spit my confession.

I am a stalker, and I murdered anyone my stepbrother touched romantically, except for Blaze, who had settled something inside me. I am not who they all thought I was.

His eyes widen. “Aaron-” his soft exhale of my name tells me that he is pleased.

“If you, any of you, touch anyone outside of this pack, I’ll kill them.”

With that announcement of my unhinged, jealous tendencies, I stomp off, going to find somewhere comfortable to sleep.

Raptor

Isit upright and swing, my fist punching through the air where he was sitting, mocking me. My breathing comes hard and loud, but as soon as I register the strangeness of the room I’m in, the light filtering through pink flower-decorated curtains and the smell of the alphas, I realise I’m safe.

Realising it and convincing my body are two different things. I lift my shaking hand to my face and wipe away the sweat, then shove the sheet off me and slip out of the bed. When I look back, I can make out a tangle of alphas that are rousing, but I don’t want to face them yet.

They make me weak.

The house is unfamiliar, and I get flashes of memory from Merle, but she was tired and wasn’t paying attention. Stupid. We’ve told her a dozen times or more that she needs to map the buildings so the rest of us know how to get out. I walk quicker, frustrated and getting more so when I can’t easily find my clothes or my pack.

My bra and underwear are comfortable, but I feel exposed, and I don’t need that right now. In this moment, I need safety.

Clothes are part of that.

Two bedrooms, a fugly ass bathroom with peach porcelain from way too many decades ago. The tiles have flowers. It’s just too much. I use the toilet, then wash my face, looking into the mirror on the medicine cupboard that is hanging on the wall.

I look tired and worn out. Shell shocked.

When is this going to end?

I slip out of the bathroom and head deeper into the house until I find a lounge with a dining room attached and then finally the kitchen.

Blaze is frying something in a pair of jeans and nothing else. He’s got a dragon tattoo that winds up the side of his ribs with its head sitting on his shoulder blade like it’s daring someone to attack him.

I trace each muscle, each scar, each imperfection, the hairs, the freckles. Try to look at him objectively. Try to find a weakness and convince myself that he’s just an alpha. Same as any other alpha.

He turns, and all my intentions fly away.

His expression shifts, and he reaches out with one arm. I slip into his embrace. He holds me with my back against his chest. His arm comes down over my shoulder and wraps around me. He doesn’t hold me gently. Blaze holds me like he knows I want to run, and he forbids it.

“What’s wrong?” His gruff, sleep soft voice is almost too loud.

“Just nightmares. Memories. Things I don’t want to carry anymore.”

He hums, and the vibration of his chest goes through me, soothing the jagged edges.

“You’re always so strong, ready to fight and kill, ready for war. I had wondered if you had a softer side, but you hurt just as much or more. Because he made you weak when you were strong.”