Retribution & Retaliation

28

Devi

Instead of going straight into my room, I stood in the hall between my door and theirs. I wasn't sure where they went or how long they'd be, but seeing their room earlier peaked my curiosity. I'd tried ignoring our bond, and I'd pushed all feelings and thoughts down. Yet here I stand, conflicted. If they weren't going to talk to me or show interest, something in their room might answer my questions. I had my reasons, but something in me needed to know theirs. Minsi felt rejected, and I needed to know why they didn't want to mark or mate me. I'd served myself up on a silver plate, and Baldric flat out refused. Gabriel didn't even acknowledge it, aside from holding me in his arms for what felt like a second and an eternity at the same time. I could have stayed there in his embrace until my last breath. In his arms felt like home, it felt safe, and it made me calm. Minsi purred inside me with his touch, then it was gone, and she felt heartbroken. The two of them didn't want us. I needed to know why.

Slipping myself into their room, I close the door as quietly as I can and lock the door behind me. Resting my back on the door I look around the large room, bigger than the one I'm in, it had their massive bed across the room against the wall in the middle, large windows on either side. Their bathroom and closet doors shut, it smelled like them. A woodsy musk scent that was all man filled my lungs, and Minsi basked in it. She purred inside of me, loving every breath I took.

Walking to the closet, I run my fingers along the molding on the middle of the wall. Scanning the large picture frames filled with photos of beautiful scenery. The green pines contrast the dark walls and furniture excellently. I wonder if they decorated themselves. If they did, they had far better taste than me.

Drifting into their closet, I sigh, my shoulder sag as my muscles relax. A color coded system, rows filled with more clothes than I'm sure anyone could ever wear, even if they shifted, clothed the rest of their lives and tore them to shreds. It was so organized.

Remembering my old bedroom so many years ago, I chuckled to myself. It could have fit in their closet. My clothes were always thrown around, and my room was always a mess. Dad always said my space was my own. He never forced me to clean. I wonder if their parents made them keep their room tidy. Or had omegas done it? Were they still doing it? I never had omegas to help me with anything. Dad never cared for titles or special treatment. We'd only wanted peace.

It wasn't until he got a second chance mate that he aspired for more. An Alphas daughter had needs, I suppose. I didn't mind much, I liked our little house, at least what I remember I liked. I don't remember ever hating it. My father accepting his second mate had us homeless and running, and I never had a room like that again.

Until now, I guess, but my room here is more than I ever dreamed of. More than I needed or truly wanted. If I stayed, I'd have to get used to it, though. If they accepted me, I guess I'd have to get used to their room. Would there be enough room for my stuff in this closet? It was already full. Would I use a different one? Maybe they could just bring a dresser into their room, I'd only need one, I don't want this much clothing. I wonder how long it takes them to get dressed with all these options. It would take me forever.

Peaking into a drawer, perfectly folded underwear all in black. Pulling a pair out a couple of others shift, and the drawer looks used apposed to the untouched look it had before. Shaking them out, I hold them up and check the tag. Calvin's, large, Baldric stitched into the waistband, I giggle.

Opening the drawer next to it, I find another filled with underwear. These, however, are all different colors. Pinks, purples, greens, blues, and Grey's. These must be Gabriel's. Plucking a pink pair out, I check the waistband and grin. Bingo.

Yanking my shorts off, I jump into the pink pair of boxers and laugh. My hips stretch the fabric, and I glance into the large standing mirror beside an ottoman in the middle of the room, a small table to its left holding a bowl full of cufflinks.