Dead.
Cade still had a possibility with his own mother. There was always a slim chance she could wake up and decide to stop self-medicating, look at herself in the mirror, and choose to be better for him. I wouldn’t rob him of that possibility by ending her life.
I tried to huddle behind the wardrobe, too big to fully conceal myself like I had been able to when I was younger. I was 6’4" and weighed 210 pounds when I was only 12 years old. Kids at school whispered that I wasn’t fully human as I passed them in the halls. Why I still let the waif of a woman beat me despite being double her size was beyond me. Perhaps it was a decade of abusive conditioning that spared her from my retaliation.
I stayed behind the wardrobe, still as could be, arms wrapped tightly around my knees, waiting for Cade to return. As soon as he got home and saw the state of his mother, he ran to all my usual hiding places seeking me out. I heard the attic access open, but I didn’t dare move from my concealed location until I heard him whisper, “Killian!? Are you up here?”
I popped my head around the corner, revealing myself. Relief flooded his face, followed shortly by horror as I unfolded myself, standing so he could view the fresh bruises which bloomed to life across my skin.
I’m sorry, Killian, he signed to me in our secret language.
Chapter 32: Rowan
Iwas numb. Somewhere distantly aware that shards of broken porcelain pierced my skin, burying themselves into my flesh, I couldn’t bring myself to move, even as blood seeped to the floor. I kept replaying Alex’s words over and over: “I will not come back here.” Did I ever imagine that sentence to come out of his mouth? I had thought of Alex as a brother. After all, he was the closest thing I had to family since my dad had died.
I met Alex just after my father’s funeral, responding to his online advert looking for a lead singer. My dad had left me some money in a trust, but it wasn’t much, especially considering how expensive the ingredients for my suppressants were. I knew I would need an alternative source of income to support myself,and although I had initially been hesitant about getting close to anyone, I was driven to by financial need.
Alex soon became my confidant and artistic partner. We would spend hours writing music for the band, talking and sitting together during our travels to and from gigs, and he was also the person I leaned on most to get through the grief of losing my dad. I hadn’t even known what it was like to have a close friend before him.
I had obviously been afraid of him discovering my secret, but in daydreams, I would imagine Alex actually accepting me if he ever did. He would wrap his arms around me, thankful for my honesty, much like I would have responded if he had ever confided in me about his sexuality.
I now knew I had been right to keep it from him and that those dreams had been a fantasy.
It wasn’t just Alex’s loss that I mourned. It was also the loss of my position in Cherry Voltage. Over the past three years, since joining the band, I had built something for myself and become part of a community that made me feel connected to others for the first time. Standing on that stage, free from inhibitions, allowing the world to view my artistry and passion was the best feeling in the world. I felt seen, valued, and empowered, which was rare considering my life of isolation and solitude.
When Alex told me they were hosting tryouts to find a new lead singer, it forced me to face the reality that I had been desperately avoiding. There was no future for me in Cherry Voltage. That had been the start of my emotional dam breaking, followed by the flood, which was Alex un-friending me. I’m sure it must have seemed dramatic, but it only reinforced what I already knew, which was that my old life and freedoms were long gone.
I squeezed my arms tighter around myself, trying to find an anchor in the turbulent sea of my grief. I felt dizzy and hot. My emotions had certainly been unpredictable, but I had never felt more out-of-control. Sobs wracked my body as tears ran down my cheeks, pooling in my lap, when motion in my peripheral view caught my attention. A shadow fell across me, and I looked up to see icy blue eyes staring into mine.
Killian had moved close, kneeled on the floor, and was studying me with the same curious expression he usually wore, although there was another emotion intermingled as well; sadness.
His hands moved gracefully and fluidly, signing a word that I recognized. It was the same word he used after biting me, which Cade had translated tosorry.He followed that sign with another motion I hadn’t seen before, interlocking his thumbs, stretching out his fingers, and then contracting them over and over in a pattern. The motion reminded me of a bird flapping its wings. Was that how he signed his chosen nickname for me, Crane?
He stood, holding out his hand for me.
“You're bleeding,” he said, his voice deep and hoarse from disuse.
I looked down, snapping out of my disassociated state. There was a lot more blood than I had expected, and as awareness returned, so did sharp pain from the cuts.
I eyed his hand suspiciously, not believing my own eyes. Had one of these monsters actually just apologized to me? As if to confirm what I had just seen was real, Killian signed the same two words again.Sorry, Crane,before holding his hand out for a second time.
I searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity, and when there was none to be found, I accepted his help to get up from my position on the floor. I winced as I stood, trying to avoid putting pressure on my right foot, which had a large shard of dishware puncturing it. Noticing that I was struggling to stand, he gathered me in his arms and hoisted me, cradling my body against his chest. I buried my face in him, breathing in his mossy woodland scent.
Was I so desperately in need of comfort and companionship that I had been willing to accept his apology so quickly?
It had certainly caught me off guard.
While not completely innocent, I suppose I found Killian to be the least culpable for my current circumstances. Ryker had been the one to suspect my omega status. Talon had helped him kidnap me from the bar. Cade had given them permission to do it. Killian hadn’t been directly involved as he was busy recovering, and I wondered what my circumstances would have been if he had been on duty at the checkpoint instead of Ryker. From the look of pity on his face right now, I liked to believe he might have just let me go, even if he had suspected me.
Killian growled at Ryker as he passed by and started signing something to Cade. They were arguing, with hands flying. I didn’t know what they were saying, but it almost appeared as if Killian was defending me. I didn’t want to look at Cade, so I closed my eyes and sank into his brother.
Soon we were moving again, and I only looked up when I heard a door close, realizing we were in the bathroom. He sat me on the counter, left to grab the medical kit, which had been getting good use, and returned to clean my wounds.
He started by re-bandaging my marks, which needed new dressings. His and Cade’s marks were starting to scab and heal, but Talon’s mark was still raw and painful. I suspected it would be difficult to heal being on the inside of my thigh, which constantly rubbed against the other. I hoped it would stop hurting soon, wincing as he applied some alcohol and a large bandage over it.
He started purring deep, soothing me. My breathing hadn’t quite evened out from my tears, but his purr was helping me to calm myself. He then grabbed metal tweezers from inside the kit and started picking the shards of dishware out of my wounds. The minor cuts only required a Band-Aid and some antiseptic, but the large one on my right sole needed a bit of medical glue to close the wound.
“Killian?” I asked, wincing as he dug around for a deep piece.