Page 84 of Bad Girl

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I couldn’t tell you if it was or if it wasn’t. A timeless peace settled over me, as often did after these kinds of events. It was like my body went into overdrive, reacting all at once until it couldn’t anymore, and then I was left behind, empty, but this time, wasn’t so bad. I wasn’t sobbing as quietly as I could into my pillow alone, and perhaps it was this, the warmth, the pressure, the feeling of being seen, heard, comforted, held, that brought me out of this earlier. In some ways, this restated what I felt I’d lost—that I had them. That I had him.

I lifted my head, only now able to remember my mate was going through the same thing. This had to be why omegas were seen to be poor mates—we were cared more for, rather than given the responsibility of caring, than anyone outside of children.

“Tris…” I rasped out.

“It’s OK. You’re OK,” he replied with a practised calm.

“Yes, but are you?”

He stared for a second, a small smile forming, then fading.

“You’re back?” He stroked my face in a series of rapid, featherlight touches. “You’re OK?”

“I’m embarrassed,” is all I got out before they came stumbling in.

I went to explain as boots were toed off, as they dropped down onto the bed, but that was forgotten as everyone moved. I was scooped up into Jackson’s arms, his beard prickling my skin as kisses were rained down on my neck before I was passed over to Len. Then I heard it—rusty at first, then a dull throbbing that vibrated all the way through me.

“Fuck, purring…” James hissed to himself. “I didn’t…”

“Too fucking scared to purr,” Tris said. “It’s OK. You don’t have to get it right, we do.”

And they did. I was feeling better, probably didn’t need all this attention right now, but hell, I was curled up against the chest of a massive alpha, listening to his purr, then James’, even more thready ones coming from Tris and Jacks. I let myself be carried away on that tide of warmth, entering a version of omega space that was quite different to the one we’d put Tris in.

There was nothing sexual about this, which probably made what came later strange. An alpha could make this place a good one or a bad one, depending on their mood. They could coerce you, lock you down, force you to submit, and therefore, everything other than their will ceased to exist. You surrendered everything—your mind, your needs and wants, your preferences. It was like you were erased, wiped clean, and made into something else entirely, remade into their image of what you should be.

Or there was this. An endless ebbing and flowing warmth. An emotional nest to go with the physical one. A place to burrow down, let your jangled nerves soothe, let your brain, your emotions, your hormones reset until you were able to emerge sometime later, refreshed in a way I wasn’t sure any other designation could.

“Hey…” Tris said as I opened my eyes, searched my surroundings, my prefrontal cortex kicking in and letting me know where I was.

James’ place, his room, his bed, but no James, no Jacks. I could hear their voices out farther in the house, and that kept me calm, the gentle hum of them like a stroke against my skin. I actually was being stroked, just not by Tris. He stared into my eyes as a big hand, Len’s, the one he’d described so eloquently in those phone calls, was really there, really stroking me, and it was so much better than the way he’d described it.

It made me feel tiny for one thing. It was so big and I was so small by comparison, it felt like his palm spanned my whole back, even though I knew that couldn’t be true. I felt the warmth of it through my dress, heating my skin, relaxing my muscles, lighting a fire within. One he gently fanned with each stroke, the comfort still sugar sweet, but more came with it. There was something painfully orgiastic about my spells, as Tris liked to c

all them. I rose to a terrifyingly painful height and then crashed down, reminding me of a much more pleasurable process. As a result, I stared at Tris’ lips, tracing the shape with my eyes.

“How are you feeling, my mate?” Tris smiled as he said the word, twisting his smile gently, his eyes twinkling as he did so. “Getting all the good stuff from our boy there?”

Len snorted in response. No one was gonna mistake Len for a boy, but he didn’t say anything, the heavy weight of his body resting against mine, doing exactly as they said—grounding me. It kept me pinned to the bed, brought my focus back to the here and now, back to them.

“Better,” I replied finally, stretching so I could feel them more fully. Right now, I was grabbing it back, some of the bliss of this morning, before the bombs were dropped. I was grabbing it between my claws, between my fangs, and dragging it back.

Which, of course, should have warned me as to what was going to come next. Tristan’s smile widened as he placed his hand on my cheek, stroking his thumb across it.

“More than better,” he said, leaning down slowly, pressing a chaste smile to my lips. “I can feel it. You’re coming back, coming back to us.”

He kissed me again before turning me around in his arms, so our bodies fitted together like puzzle pieces. With the bond between us now, that’s how it felt. When we lay together, we snicked tight, one person, one body—one that looked at a sleepy-eyed alpha before us. We traced the long line of his body, from his ubiquitous flannel shirt—did he have anything else, and was a trip to a menswear store something we needed to organise soon?—to the same perfectly fitting jeans, those thick forearms, tensing, ready to move, to reach out, and—

“You feeling better, love?” Len asked.

“I…”

What was I feeling? My eyes fell closed, Tris kissing the back of my neck and arching into them, much like a cat would when being patted, and when my body moved, its other needs became clearer. I was warm, really bloody warm, sweat starting to prickle on my brow, but I made no move to wipe it away. This was good somehow, this heat. It blasted away the terrifying cold, replacing it with this.

“I need…”

Len stiffened at the words, his eyes darting to the closed door, but I wasn’t having that. He was my alpha, right here, right now, and he’d purred for me. He’d rushed across town, cancelled his date, swept in here for me. He was mine, a thought that echoed down the bond, I felt that now with every heartbeat.

“I need you, alpha,” I said, we both said, trying for decisive, but it came out more like a whine. Somehow, that was exactly what was needed. I watched those grey blue eyes sharpen, his pupils blow wide, his hands rise to stroke me again, and I wanted that. I just wanted other things more.


Tags: Sam Hall Fantasy