Page 66 of Omega Forged (Hartlock Omegas #2)

Pan

The sparkling water didn’t cut through the desperate longing for something stronger. I flattened my palms on the table to curb the jitters. I could handle dinner with my parents, I could . I remembered my sponsor's advice when I rang him earlier and focused on my breath. This feeling would pass.

“Armond said he would help you with your little hand hiccup, if it’s motivation you need.” My mother played with the string of fat pearls around her neck.

I bit my tongue. If motivation was all I needed, I would have healed years ago.

My father pursed his lips. “He’s a genius, Kathy, but lazy.”

Their eyes clashed and I let out a deep, audible sigh. I picked at my steak, marveling at how their company could make scotch fillet taste like trash. I thought after our last meeting that they would leave me be, but they’d dismissed my diagnosis completely.

“He’s not lazy, ” my mother hissed, turning her narrowed gaze on me. “We just don’t want to see you waste your talents.”

My talents?

A laugh withered on my tongue. I was a train wreck, and they were the only people who wouldn’t accept it.

It started with stiffness, which I shook off.

I’d been doing hours of drills since I could sit at a piano.

It was only when I played Tears of the Moon that I noticed.

It was like my finger would hesitate and I couldn’t move it.

The connection between my thoughts and the was action delayed.

My fingers, once stiff, now curled inward and no amount of stretching could stop it.

Armond, my mentor, helped me keep it a secret. My doctor and occupational therapists worked with me to take tests, MRIs, and, finally, the diagnosis. There was something in my brain stopping me from playing. It was Armond who heard drugs could help, which is why he offered them.

“You’re not listening. I can play piano, but it will never be at that same level again.”

My father made a noise of disgust, scrunching his napkin up in his fist. He noticed the attention we’d garnered and let it fall to the table in a crumpled ball.

“We poured thousands of dollars into your education. Your father would be disgusted to see what has become of you.”

My mother nodded along like a bobble-head, and I fought the tight ball of tangled emotion that begged me to lash out. I craved SubduX. It rushed like an echo through my veins, and my fingers shook as I took a sip of water. SubduX wouldn’t have let their words past my skin.

“These are the last things you have of him. I know that’s hard for you to accept. But I won’t play, not now, not ever.” I waved my hands at them.

Covered in tiny, rebellious tattoos. A tapestry of an alpha desperate to escape the perfect vision my parents forced me to become. Before instructors, parents, and pressure hollowed the glow of playing and turned me into a machine instead.

Sometimes there was a relief, underneath the mountain of shame, of course. There was a time when the weight of my fingers on the keys didn’t drag my heart through a shredder. Playing felt like flying until it didn’t. The brief flight drugs gave me didn’t last either.

I narrowed my eyes to slits as my father worked himself up.

“You’re doing a fine job of sullying the reputation your mother and I worked so damn hard for. A pack at nineteen. We worked our way up from the dust. We came—”

“From nothing and built an empire.” I cut my father off with a laconic twist of my wrist. I didn’t care what sacrifices they’d made.

The blood in my veins was black acid, burning me with long-held hatred.

“Do you give Ajax these same lectures, or is it just me who you care about having the Mythos name?”

Their bewildered expressions drew a bitter chuckle from me.

I’d breached the untouchable subject, the one we never spoke of.

Ajax.

I dangled my phone. “Maybe I should call him? Invite him to family dinner for once.”

Couldn’t they see he was the better option for their obsession? I was a poor investment.

“We’re not talking about Ajax.” My mother dabbed at her lips.

Mothers were supposed to be nurturing, weren’t they? The closest I’d gotten to warmth from my mother was the day I was accepted into PAMA, and the awkward side hug made my skin crawl.

Ajax didn’t even get that. The look on his face when they gave him that horrible book flashed through my mind.

The cool slide of their judgment slipped under my skin and froze me.

I hated it. Hated them. I was done with their cold control, their nagging, and intense need for me to be the star of this family while I rotted inside.

“Well, I am. He’s my brother, and you drove a wedge between us for years.

You broke me, broke Ajax and I want nothing to do with you.

” My throat tightened, and my whispers turned hoarse.

“I have people who care about me, actually care, and they’re my family.

Not you. This is the last time I’ll speak to you willingly. ”

My voice was low, level, and my restraint impressed me. Oh, how I wanted to toss my plate on the ground like a grown-ass toddler. But I wouldn’t give them satisfaction, or the fodder for future lectures. They blinked, as if I had mentioned the weather. I slid an envelope across the table.

“This has a check inside. A repayment for all the financial outlay you wasted on me. If you need more, tell me. I want no debt between us.”

“I see. Another tantrum.” My mother offered me a tight smile, and I caught a scream of frustration in my throat.

“Your attitude is disturbing.” My father frowned.

They were unfeeling shells. It was like all their emotions leeched inside me and I became a hurricane of unregulated fury.

I whirled on my heel and stalked through the restaurant before I truly lost my temper.

My body throbbed with swollen rage as I passed over my ticket to the valet.

I drove recklessly on the way home, weaving in and out of cars at high speed.

The streetlights spun, blurry and unfocused.

My breath came in uneven spurts. These feelings were bigger than me and I struggled to fill my lungs with the weight of them on my chest. In the past, I would have gone straight to the Barracks.

Texted CJ and be half gone on SubduX by the time he met me there.

But the throb of something sweet cut through my blistering despair. The link between Tully and I radiated warmth, and I flexed my fists on the leather steering wheel as it brushed inside me.

She made me feel hope. A literal anchor to reality. I hoped my emotions weren’t affecting her right now.

She had enough on her mind.

I slammed the door to the house, trembling with a need I couldn’t fill. I thought about going to Walden, asking him to put me on my knees and make me as small and pliable as SubduX used to.

The television blared from the front room, and I skirted past it. How was I going to explain what put me in such a temper? If I could just breathe for a moment, I could get a handle on myself. My shoulders caged my ears, but I heard the tinkle of piano keys.

What the fuck?

Everybody knew my piano was off limits.

Even if I didn’t play it, it was mine, and I was fastidious about keeping it in pristine condition.

I stormed into the room and Tully let out a soft gasp as her wide eyes met mine.

Her fingers splayed on the keys, and her back jerked ramrod straight.

The room was thick with her perfect, sweet scent and my knees turned watery as I drank her down into my lungs.

Better than wine. Better than Subdux.

Walden cleared my nostrils with his sharp, crisp scent. But Tully was like tumbling into a nest. She was soft velvet, home . Tully was an addiction even my packmates could understand.

“What are you doing in here, angel? Didn’t you ever learn not to play with other people’s things?”

The wall sconces gave the atrium a moody light, and the shadows lengthened as I stalked toward her. My veins blistered with trapped heat, and this little omega was in the path of a firestorm. Tully slid off the bench.

“Am I not allowed to be here?” Tully didn’t have dimples, but there was the shadow of one in her smile.

Her smile .

I’d do anything to keep it. Her cheeks flushed under my intense gaze. I couldn’t look away if I tried. This heavenly thing between us throbbed with heat, and I brushed its length to glean what was under her skin. What brought her to me when she was so used to running?

“Do you remember the first time you found me here? What I said to you?” I tugged her back onto the seat, leaning in to fill my lungs with her scent.

Gods, give me oblivion. Anything except the rage that clutched my insides with teeth.

“I remember,” my sweet girl replied, and it made my teeth ache. “I couldn’t stay away.”

Thank fuck she didn’t. This pack needed her.

I ran my thumb across her lower lip, and she drew it into her mouth and grazed it with her nimble teeth. A groan jolted out of me, and we both froze. My breathing was shallow as I tried to find the words to make her stay.

“Do you want to play?”

Her brief nod sent a surge of energy through my body, and I pulled her between my legs. Tully let out a soft puff of surprise.

“Put your hands on mine,” I hissed through my teeth as she obeyed.

We shivered together. Mine barely restrained terror, hers… nerves? Excitement. I nudged my nose along her neck and tasted the lush longing in her scent. What changed to bring her into my arms tonight?

“I want to talk to you about your hands.”

I didn’t reply, letting my fingers dance over the keys instead.

A haunting, vicious song. With no harmony, no beauty.

Tully hovered her fingers above mine as I poured my discontent onto the piano.

My right hand curled, and the keys smashed wrong.

I showed her what I had become. This was what was inside me.

A mess of rage and disgust. Tar coated my insides until they were sticky, dark, and rotten.