I stare at it, then at the smoothie still clutched in my hand. It almost seems like they care. Like they want to take care of me, provide for me… but that can’t be the case. They rejected me, sent me home and weren’t very kind while they did it. Or Forsythe tried, he gave me soft smiles and held my hand like it was a precious breakable thing, but he still said the words that forever altered my life.You are not our omega.Five words is all it took to lead to devastation.
I can’t give them the opportunity to do it again.
I grit my teeth and shake my head. “I’m fine.” The smoothie in my hand presses against Thayer’s stomach. “Can you take this, please?”
He does, which is good because if he hadn’t I might have just dropped it on his lap, and that would have been a mess I don’t want to clean up.
With a sigh, the professor pushes to his feet and slides the glass onto my dresser, while I huddle in the center of my bed with my blankets tucked around me. I suppose I should be glad they didn’t invite themselves into my nest, tucked away in my walk-in closet.
“Haven let you in?” I ask eventually, even though I know it must be the case. The Calloways would have stood between me and this pack until the end of time unless she told them otherwise.
Court gives a jerky nod of his head. “Yeah. By the time we got here you’d been out for ten hours, burning up with fever. She was worried about you. Knew we’d be able to help.”
Worried, but not enough to take me to the hospital. She’s been to all of my appointments with me, and so she knows the doctors warned of relapses like this. Moments where my body will just give out. Though… it was mentioned that it would happen more often the closer I get to my heat.
That sends a prickle of fear down my spine.
The idea of spending a heat alone, even on suppressants or drugged out of my mind in a clinic, is terrifying. I’ve done it before, and it was terrible. I can only imagine it’ll be worse with RMD.
“If she hadn’t let us in, we would have climbed the walls and torn everyone in them apart to get to you, though,” Grieves says, sounding like he means it.
“No,” Thayer’s quick to deny that. “No, we wouldn’t have done that, because these people are your family and we wouldn’t hurt them.”
“I’d grind them to dust if I had to,” Grieves mutters and for some reason that makes my lips twitch into the beginnings of a smile.
“Violence isn’t the answer, bruiser,” I remind him and his eyes slip closed, his expression melting into one of relief. Like my using his nickname is some kind of a sign that I forgive them. But I don’t. I can’t.
When he looks at me again with those dark gray eyes of his, I can see the hope in them.
And god, that kills me.
“I think I’ll need you to remind me of that, bubbles.” The way he says it, like I’ll be around to remind him, makes my heart flip in my chest and hope bloom in my stomach.
I want to ask if that’s what he means. If finding out I have Rejected Mate Disorder changes things for them. If they’re going to pick me instead because of it.
And even as I think it, I’m torn in two. Logically I know I need them. They are my only cure, my only chance to have a full and healthy life. And beyond that a huge part of me craves them, needs them, still wants them even after what they did to me.
But I wasn’t lying when I said all those weeks ago that if they choose me, I want it to be because I’m me. Because they like me and want me. I don’t want them to be with me out of duty or guilt. I don’t want them to stay just because I’m sick.
But am I really in a position to turn them down if they ask?
“So,” I say, drawing out the word and tracing that same seam with the tip of my finger. “You flew all the way here because you saw me faint on television and you know I have Rejected Mate Disorder. What’s the plan then?” I hate thequestion as soon as it leaves my lips, want desperately to recall it, to take back the last ten seconds.
Because now I’ll know.
They exchange a look that doesn’t take a genius to read. Even in my still hazy state, I see it clear as day.
“You’re not here for good, are you?” I ask even though I know the answer.
Forsythe’s mouth tightens and he shakes his head. “We can’t stay, Florence. I’m sorry.”
A humorless laugh falls from my lips as I look down at the blanket covering my lap. “So what? This is just to assuage your guilt? Come here to reassure yourself that you did everything you could for me, except what I actually need?”
“That’s not-” Thayer starts, but I don’t let him finish.
“You know what I’m facing, don’t you? Lifetime chronic illness. Unmanageable painful heats even with suppressants, that I’ll go through alone because the idea of anyone touching me but any of you makes me throw up. Constant body aches. Migraines. Inability to keep down food. And earlydeath. But what the fuck does that matter right? So long as you get to make yourselves feel better and then go back to your monarchy approved mate.”
“That’s enough, sunshine,” Piers says quietly, almost pleading like he doesn’t want to face the reality of what they’ve done to me.