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My shoulders start shaking, followed by my arms. The shudders expand through my body until even my teeth are chattering uncontrollably.

“Breathe, Omega.” Riven’s voice switches back to a silky soft melody. It wraps around me, filling me with a strange sense of recognition.

Riven… he feels familiar. Like a story I knew in another life.

I didn’t hear him move, but he must have pulled my chair back from the table to give me space. He’s in front of me now, but I can’t look at him. Can’t open my eyes at all.

I just need a second. Just a second.

I must speak out loud, because Riven murmurs, “That’s fine. Take your second, sweetheart. Daxen’s gone.”

I need to push it back. Shove the last five minutes into the box where I keep every memory that feels like having my soul shredded into tiny pieces. My mother’s death, watching Caelan get shot, all the terrible things my father’s ever said or done to me.

And now this—my Mate’s best friend using Alpha Command while firing hate at me like bullets.

‘Hide it away, my love.’

My mother’s voice drifts into my mind. Exhausted, I lean into it, wrapping her words around me like armor.

And I obey.

I hide everything. Shut it down, force it into that box, and shove it as far back as I can.

I blink. The floor sharpens, coming back into focus. I glance up and see Riven, still crouched in front of me.

”Wow.” He murmurs. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or really fucking disturbed.”

“What?” I croak. My voice sounds broken. Raw. It sounds like how I feel inside.

“Your turnaround time from Omega breakdown to emotional lockdown was borderline terrifying.”

He studies my face, and something shifts in his expression. Recognition, maybe. Or maybe it’s horror.

“That kind of reaction doesn’t just happen. It’s usually learned. After years and years of damage.”

“Twenty-two of them,” I whisper. The words escape before I can think to censor myself. There’s something about Riven that makes me want to tell him all my secrets and show him all my scars.

He hums low in his throat. The sound is dripping in disgust. Not at me, though, I realize.

At what’s been done to me?

He jolts, and his eyes snap to his wrist. He runs a finger gently over the black beads of a bracelet, then looks up at me with wide, shocked eyes.

“It doesn’t work on you,” he breathes in surprise.

I frown. “What doesn’t?”

The sound of the doors flying open echoes through the room. I whip my head around and see Vaelenor strolling into the library with a cocky grin on his face.

I’m too raw to handle him right now, so I turn back to Riven and lower my eyes⁠—

And rear back when I notice two large holes in my leggings.

Two imprints, on the top of both thighs, the edges singed like heat tore straight through the cotton. Both in the perfect shape… of handprints.

My handprints.

A strangled sound escapes before I can stop it, my stomach swooping uncomfortably.