Unbalanced Omega

Chapter 8 - Shya

Little bits of heaven sneak into my sadness, but I push them away. I want to cry.

They made me dirty and cold and I don't care what they're doing now. They could be feeding me chocolate chip cookies and letting me take a hot bath and I'd still refuse to forgive them.

Maybe if I never wake up, I won't have to deal with their nasty faces anymore.

After the accident, before I knew how mean they were, I tried to stop crying. I thought they would help me. Now I know they only mean to make it worse.

So, I don't want to stop crying. I'll cry all the time if it means they'll go away.

My tears run down my face, and I force more out. They fall easily since I feel so gross inside.

Wait.

There's something warm and comforting against my face, the most perfect thing I've ever felt. Wet fabric blocks me from feeling it's texture, but the vibrations flowing into my cheek have so much rich power it breaks my concentration.

It's like the strong hands that wielded such gentle care when I was at my weakest, giving encouragement and fuel to my destroyed body. When I was on the brink of death, his soft whispers and firm resolve pulled me away from the ledge, coaching me to life.

These unyielding reverberations begin in my skin and sink deeper, through my muscles and bones, until my soul has no choice but to shake free from my misery. My pain shatters, tiny pieces scattering within my whirlwind of emotions, but instead of slicing me up, the vibrations hold them static, suspended in the air, useless and non-threatening.

Massive theoretical hands engulf them, gathering them together and hiding them away.

My insides shake for a different reason. The thrumming of my heart changes from unhappy lethargy to pounding disbelief.

The smell of freedom fills my nostrils, a wild masculine scent so potent I envision statues of warlords and huge fighting beasts.

When I try to lift my head, I find I'm bound to the wonderful source of vibration.

Purring.

It knits into my heart and through my lifemating bond, and joy unlike any I've ever felt springs through me.

I still can't move my head, and when I open my eyes all I see is fabric.

My arms won't move, but no panic comes with the realization. His heat seeps into my front, more effective than the shower pummeling my back, and a big part of me doesn't want to move from this comfortable position.

The other part needs to see him.

I need to meet my lifemate.

I want my Alpha.

Now.

My lax muscles enjoy his purr, but my heart demands more. I wriggle, eager to see his face, and my intimates wake with the rubbing.

Which is confusing. I feel dirty, but it also feels right to react to him.

I squeak and struggle in earnest.

"Hold on, little one. I've got you."

Heat blooms inside me as his voice works through my body, and impatience takes over.

"Let me up. Now!" my hoarse voice may be scratchier than normal, but cannot compete with his gravelly perfection.

The world stops moving as he stands still, and I regret being demanding. He's so big, but he left me and they hurt me, and I should be mad at him, but I know in my heart he'll never be mean to me. His attention has always been kind, but I need a face to put with the male who owns my soul. I am impatient.