Page 58

FORTY-EIGHT

Playing: There You Are by Zayn Malik

It’s a wave of emotions the second I open my eyes.

The first is relief. I feel light, floaty. A little bit hungry. Then I’m so incredibly sore.

I pinch my eyes closed, my brain trying to determine where the discomfort is coming from. I reach up and feel my head, noticing the slight pressure in my skull.

The lights in here are way too fucking bright. Like I’m on stage or under some cartoon-style police interrogation.

“Stacia?” I hear, and there’s movement around me, more than one body letting out breaths of relief.

“Fuck, go get a nurse,” I hear someone say.

“Stacia, baby, we’re here, everything’s okay.”

My vision focuses, I turn my head towards the sound, seeing dark hair and intense eyes. “Uriah.” My voice is scratchy, but bearable. I feel him tighten his hold around my hand, which I didn’t even realize was being held.

The room comes into focus and the white is blinding. The overhead lights are giving me an instantaneous headache. My hand gets snagged when I go to scratch my nose. I look down to see an I.V. is attached.

Oh shit . I’m in the hospital.

“What”—I pause, forcing myself to swallow—“happened?”

My omega inside of me feels like she’s curled up into a ball. I clutch my hand to my chest, feeling suddenly disappointed. In what, I’m not sure. But the feeling is immense and impossible to ignore.

I look back at them, and they’re all looking at me with hesitant glances. I notice my blond alpha is missing seconds before he’s returning, a pretty beta with a clipboard following behind him.

“Hi, Stacia. Can you answer a few questions for me?” I give her a nod. “What year is it?”

“2024.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“And lastly, what is the last thing you remember before waking up?”

I hadn’t really thought about it, but now that I am, I feel my bones go cold. My father’s voice rings in my ears.

You will grow up and do your duty, or you will be forced to.

“Dinner with my parents.”

Uriah’s growl is so low, I think I’m the only one who hears it.

The nurse writes something down. “So, you don’t remember how you got here?”

I try to, I really do. But all I remember is how I felt after my father said those horrible things.

And the whining of my omega inside me. Yelling at me.

“No, I don’t,” I regretfully say.

She nods. “That’s okay, Stacia. It might come back in time. I’m going to get the doctor so we can discuss next steps.”

“Wait,” I say, halting her retreat. “But… what happened?”

She opens her mouth to tell me, but Atlas puts a hand up. “We’ll tell her.”

The nurse nods with a polite smile before leaving the room.

I look up into the eyes of my alpha, my prime. He looks sorrowful, but also every bit as strong and mischievous. Just like he always does. He watches me, hesitant.

“Please, At,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

He closes his eyes and sighs deeply. “Rory found you unconscious,” he starts before walking closer to me. “You… You overdosed, Stacia.”

I hear the words, but they don’t make sense.

“I what ?”

“They had to pump your stomach.” This time it’s Kendall, so I whip my head to look at him. “They also think you have a mild concussion from the fall.”

“From the fall?” I don’t even acknowledge the part about pumping my stomach. No wonder I feel so physically empty. “Where was I?”

“Central park. They think you wandered there from downtown.”

Despite the emptiness, I feel nauseous. I close my eyes, willing the memories to appear. I clench harder, trying to remember anything .

“What happened at dinner, Stacia?” Atlas asks.

I don’t want to remember that.

“Nothing,” I say, very unconvincingly.

“Stacia.” My beautiful beta steps up next to me, sincere seriousness in his gaze.

“There’s two possibilities here. One, someone drugged you enough to almost kill you, and if that’s the case, we’re about to become a pack of criminals.

Or two, something happened at dinner. You dissociated to the point of blacking out and did what you normally do when you’re emotionally triggered. You looked for drugs.”

I swallow heavily. Is that what happened? Did I do this to myself?

“Do you think your parents would drug you?” Uriah asks. I shake my head immediately.

“No. Definitely not.” Because they want to sell me and they can’t do that if I’m dead.

“Please tell us what happened at dinner, baby.”

The heaviness of his hand around mine grounds me. I give it a squeeze, holding on for dear life.

“My parents were as awful as ever,” I admit, “but this time, it was worse. They had some news for me.”

“What did they tell you, angel?”

I shake my head. I don’t want to tell them, because what if they realize I’m too much trouble to handle? There’s nothing we can do when it comes to my father, he means what he says and that terrifies me.

“That they have a pack for me, they were just waiting for me to dump Derek so they could introduce us. I told them no .” My voice ramps up, tears suddenly welling into my eyes.

“I told them I had scent matches, I wouldn’t bond with anyone else.

I was ready to throw it all away, but they told me that it doesn’t matter.

That you being my scent matches doesn’t matter, because I’m an omega so I have to do what omegas are born to do.

They’re trying to force me to bond with a pack from my dad’s company and I don’t know what to do. ”

The sobs are out of control now, tears soaking my face. I couldn’t break down like this at dinner.

I must have shut off instead, to protect myself.

Uriah puts his arm around me and tugs me as far as I can go into his body. They all close in towards the bed, their mingle of scents attempting to calm me but the tears only come faster.

“He said I didn’t have a choice. He said they would force me, cut me off, take everything away. I wouldn’t put it past them to kidnap me and take me back home. I see it now, who they really are. I wouldn’t let myself see how bad it was before, but they’re nasty people and I don’t know what to do .”

They let me cry it out, and I do. I’m exhausted by the time it all comes out, my face a wet, blubbering mess. I only stop because I realize I’m not hydrated enough to cry anymore.

“Here’s some water, baby.” Uriah gives me a small cup, sticks the straw to my lips. I inhale the water quickly.

“I know it feels heavy, Stacia.” Atlas leans down beside the bed, giving me soft eyes that make me whimper.

“But we will find a way around it, I promise. Nothing is going to happen. We are your scent matches, your mates , and we will be here for you no matter what. Until this blows over, one of us will be by your side, okay?”

He makes it sound so simple. He’s magnificent, and so reassuring. And he’s mine .

I reach out and place my palm on his cheek. His eyes flutter closed as he nuzzles it, placing a kiss to my palm. “You are perfect ,” I whisper, another tear falling down my cheek.

He places his hand on top of mine, his eyes never leaving my gaze. “And so are you, Stacia. We’ve waited for you for a long time. The universe will have to do a much better job than this to keep us apart.”

“Amen to that,” Ciro says, clapping his hands together. “I’m not much of a fighter, but I’m down for a throw-down.”

His enthusiasm makes me laugh.

“What are you on about over there?” Uriah asks, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

Ciro only shrugs. “I’m the only person who hasn’t punched someone for Stacia, and I feel like I should get to. And if I get to choose, I’d like to punch her father. Right square in the nose.”

Atlas tries to hide his amusement. “We probably shouldn’t be discussing this in a hospital.”

I let out a soft giggle before looking back at Atlas. “You said Rory found me,” I start, and he nods.

“She’s still here, Stacia. We’re back here because we’re your scent matches. Bonding or not, that means we’re family.”

“Is that really what it means? Legally?” I ask. Scent matches are so serious, they’re recognized by the law without actual bonds?

They all nod, and I’m dumbfounded. I should have done my research on scent matches after realizing I had some.

Before I can ask them more questions, there’s a knock at the door and a dark haired beta enters the room. My mates all huddle to one side of the bed so the doctor can stand on the other. He gives me a kind smile.

“Hey, Stacia. I’m Dr. Jenson. How are you feeling?”

“Sore. Really empty, but it’s not terrible.”

He looks at the chart in front of him. “And emotionally?”

I feel a bit uncomfortable discussing it, but I give an honest answer anyway. “A bit ashamed. Embarrassed. But I’m a thousand times better now that my scent matches are with me.”

He nods, giving my pack a happy glance. “I’m glad. I want to talk to you about the drugs. The nurse said that you don’t remember taking them.”

I shake my head. “I tend to dissociate heavily sometimes. I don’t think I was present when I took them.”

He looks thoughtful, then serious. “The next question I have for you is sensitive, Stacia. Would you like to speak alone?”

I shake my head. “No, I’m okay with my mates being here.”

He nods. “I know you can’t remember, Stacia, but I have to ask. Do you think you were trying to kill yourself?”

I flinch at the question. That’s not something I’ve ever thought about, not seriously. At dinner, I felt trapped. Dismissed. But enough to feel like dying?

Drugs are always a way for me to step away from my life, away from the problems I don’t want to deal with. But do I want to die ? That answer is clear.

I swallow before speaking. “I have some trouble… coping with stuff in my life. But I’ve never thought about dying. It’s more of… stepping out for a moment temporarily, not permanently.”

“That’s good to hear. We still have to keep you for observation. Only a day or two. Have your mates talked to you about your options?”

Ciro laughs. “We didn’t really have time to, doc. There was so much to discuss already.”

Dr. Jenson flashes a look of surprise, clearly taken aback by Ciro’s lightheartedness. I crack a laugh myself just before the alphas join in. The glorious sound breathes life back into the room.

“Sorry, Doctor. It’s been a long day,” Atlas apologizes, although he’s finding it hard to swallow his own amusement.

“That’s okay,” he responds, finally cracking a small smile at us. “I’m glad you have such a good support system, Stacia.”

I give him a happy nod. “So, my options? What are they for?”

Atlas clears his throat. “We talked to the nurse a little about your dissociation, and we all thought it would be beneficial if you started going to therapy.”

“A therapist that’s also a psychologist,” Dr. Jenson adds. “So you can see them for a while, figure out what exactly triggers your dissociation, and discuss potential treatment plans.”

The thought makes my stomach churn, but I think that’s because therapists weren’t talked about very highly in my house growing up. In fact, psychology as a topic was seen as extremely taboo. That kind of makes sense now, though.

“I’m not really sure how to find a good therapist.”

The doctor grins. “We have very good resources to help refer you. And, if you find that it’s not a good fit, we can always find someone else. But, I’d like for you to consider it before we discharge you.”

I nod, looking at the floor as the doctor keeps talking. I almost zone out, but then I feel a small squeeze around my hand. I look over at Uriah, who’s looking at me like I’m everything. It takes my breath away. He holds my hand firm in his, intending to keep me in the moment.

“Okay, let’s do it,” I agree while staring at my alpha. I feel more tears well up but blink them back. “I’ll go to therapy.”

“That’s excellent, Stacia.”

The doctor starts to discuss other things, like how to nurse my concussion and what I can’t eat for the next 24-48 hours because of my stomach being pumped.

I’m listening, but I’m mainly taking in my mates.

How they listen intently. Uriah is jotting down notes in his phone.

It’s a sight to behold. I feel extremely lucky, both for waking up and for having the support that I do.

I am ready to do whatever I need to in order to keep them, no matter the consequences. They are mine , and I’m ready to claim them.