I stomp down the hallway toward the last door, the scent only getting stronger as I go. My instincts are on high alert, and my hand drifts to one of the hidden knives I keep on me at all times, ready to defend from whatever might be causing her harm.
I raise my fist to knock, but stop as Delilah screams. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, my eyes going wide. Before I can stop myself, I shoulder through the door, breaking the flimsy handle lock without a second thought. I flick on the lights, eyes searching even as Delilah continues screaming. But there’s no one else in the room. And then my eyes fall on Delilah’s nest.
It breaks my heart every time I come in here to work out and see what she’s been reduced to living in, guilt eating me like acid from the inside. Small and sparse, taking up the least amount of space possible, everything borrowed and stolen to provide the barest amount of comfort.
I’ve been such a dick, and too proud to admit I was wrong. I thought she’d get better just by being out of the facility, like other omegas we’ve rescued before. But if anything, she’s gotten worse. A ghost on the edges of our lives, working in silence, living like an afterthought. And I have no one to blame but myself.
Delilah screams again, pulling me from my guilt, and I charge forward, acting before I can think better of it. Not bothering to remove the blanket from over her head, I scoop Delilah up into my arms and hold her to my chest, purring hard enough to make my teeth chatter.
My stomach twists as I realize how small, how light she is. A wisp, like Joker calls her. I leave the room behind and take her into my bedroom, the only place that feels safe enough right now. Sitting on the bed against the headboard, I hold Delilah close, almost completely encircling her with my arms, hiding her shaking form from the world. She’s stopped screaming, but I can’t tell if that’s because she’s awake or if the dream she’s stuck inside of has shifted.
“Wake up, omega. Come back to me,” I murmur into her ear, a hint of my alpha instincts slipping into my words.
Delilah jolts and inhales deeply before going still. There’s a slight tremble to her shoulders, but she doesn’t speak. I can feel her breathing, but she’s still so tense.
“You’re safe. I’ve got you,” I say, trying for comforting, but my voice is too…strong for it, even to my own ears.
Delilah is still for another moment, but then there’s a shift, ever so slight but enough for me to feel it when she uncurls and rests her head on my chest. Her body nearly vibrates from the tension, but something about the small gesture makes me exhale in relief.
We’re quiet for a long time, or at least it feels that way. The house is silent, everyone else still out in the barn, I suspect. Delilah sniffs a little, so low that I’m sure she is trying to hide it. I take a deep breath, and the salt of her tears reaches my nose, making my heart twist.
“Don’t cry. It’s…you’re okay,” I say, forcing myself not togrowl.
“I’m sorry. You—I can go. I don’t—” Delilah cuts herself off with a little choked sob and I hold her tighter, one hand going to the back of her head to hold her against my chest.
“None of that, you hear me? I’m here, and you’re safe,” I reply, my tone leaving no room for argument.
Delilah nods, shivering slightly. I sigh again, annoyed at myself. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m just scaring her more than I’m comforting. Just like I have every time I’ve tried since she came. But hearing her cry makes my teeth grind, my protective instincts running rampant.
“You were having a nightmare,” I state, trying to keep her talking before she can shut down again.
Delilah nods slightly, sniffling again. “A memory, maybe. But I…I can’t talk about it,” Delilah says, starting strong before trailing off to a whisper.
“Can’t? What’s stopping you?” I ask, curiously.
Delilah opens her mouth to respond, but the only thing that comes out is a sharp inhale and a wince, like she’s in pain. I pull her away from my chest, cradling one side of her face in my massive hand so she can’t look away as I scan her features. She’s pale, more so than usual, the tear tracks on her cheeks stark. And there’s something in the depths of her stormy gray eyes. Fear. True, soul-deep terror. Something or someone has her so scared to talk that it’s manifesting in physical pain.
“I know I haven’t been…the most welcoming to you. But I swear you are safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you while you’re under my roof. Do you understand?” I say, picking every word with care and speaking them clearly so I can’t be misunderstood.
Delilah nods, her lower lip trembling slightly. I sigh through my nose, heart twisting as I frown. But the shift in Delilah’s face has me dropping the expression, and I curse myself under my breath.
“I’m…I’m not good at this sort of thing. I don’t…I’m not the soft one. If it’ll make you feel better, I can go get Joker or Phantom,” I say, looking away.
“No!”
Delilah’s little yelp snaps my eyes back to hers, and I find her as surprised by the outburst as I am. There’s a long pause, and I swallow. It hits me again how smalland fragile she is, especially compared to me. How could someone like her be real, let alone be in my arms? I don’t dare hold her too tight or I know I’m liable to shatter her bird-like bones. A beast with a hummingbird balanced delicately in its palm.
Which is why I’m not surprised that at the sound of the backdoor opening, Delilah is up and out of bed, fluttering away from me nearly as fast as she can without running. I rip off my mask as the door closes behind her, running hands through my hair with a soft growl.
Chapter thirty-eight
Watchingsomeoneelsecookis something I’ll never get used to, I fear. Especially not when I’m right here and perfectly capable. Yes, I’m still a little rattled from my nightmare and the interaction with Bones after, but being forced to sit on the couch and watch Cross cook is a different form of torture. Not that he isn’t doing a good job or anything. But it’s always been my task, part of my role as an omega.
“You gonna make it, baby doll?” Phantom asks from beside me, a chuckle in his deep,accented voice.
I jump slightly, whipping my head around to face him with wide eyes. He’s smirking at me, those clear blue eyes twinkling with mischief. My cheeks heat as I look down into my lap, my hair falling forward.
“I promise Cross can handle it. Who do you think cooked for us before you came here?” he says, reaching up and tucking my hair behind my ear.