19. Lorcán

Cillian tosseshis suit jacket around Elena as I scoop her into my arms.

My heart shatters in a million pieces as I hold her close to my chest. It was never supposed to be like this.

Maybe I'm a bastard because I had just always hoped to protect Matteo's secret. As long as Elena was my Omega, that's all that mattered to me.

I've been a selfish asshole, and I deserve her hatred.

In all the years I ‘worked' for her pàpa I've never seen Elena act like this. I knew she had a temper, that she was full of sass and took no shit. But this breakdown that she's having? I can't help but feel guilty.

If I would have done my job and made sure she hadn't run away, she probably would still hate me, but it wouldn't be like this.

Part of me blames my half-brother Finn for being the major catalyst. If she hadn"t been locked in her room and felt like she had to prove something, maybe she wouldn't have acted so desperately.

No matter how she found out about Matteo being the originator of the contract, she would have acted poorly. But this? The way she's trembling nakedly in my arms, her eyes scrunched shut, and with vomit on her chin. Nothing could have prepared me for this, and the guilt weighs heavily on me.

"I'll take care of her," I offer softly.

Finn sits at the opposite end of the table, unreadable as always, while sipping at his whiskey.

Cillian looks like he's in pain from only being able to help by tossing his jacket around her, and Declan looks closed off.

I've known Declan longer than my brothers. I can see him weighted down by the same guilt as me. Which is saying something, considering I've watched him kill someone with very little remorse.

Reeling from the aftermath in the dining room, no one objects.

My shoes crunch on glass and food. I can already hear Maeve complaining in sharp curses behind me as I trail some of the disaster behind me.

Elena sobs in my arms as I carry her to my room, not the room she's been staying in the past few days.

I've held Elena many times, been her protector and confidant when I worked in the Amante house, but it's never felt like this. I've never been part of the reason she cries, and I fucking hate it.

Her sweet scent is bitter and sharp as her chest heaves against mine.

I'd told Matteo repeatedly that she was ready, that I wanted to move forward, but he kept pushing back. He told me that Elena needed to express her interest first.

I thought the head of the Amante family was fair, but as I hold his disheveled daughter, I can't help but think he caused more harm than good by holding off on the inevitable.

My room is far down the hall, and I have to bend to turn the handle to enter. The space isn't personal, it's been held for me for years, but I only just recently started sleeping here. I kick off my shoes as I carry her to the bathroom. Her fingers grip my shirt, and she presses her face against the column of my throat.

Scenting me even though she fucking hates me right now.

I don't want to speak and ruin this small comfort for her, so I don't. Instead, I hold her in one arm and open the glass door to turn on the shower.

Her full-blown sobs have turned into quiet, body-shaking hiccups as I hold her against me.

I want to soothe her and give her reassuring words, but my mouth feels dry, and I don't know what to say to make things better.

I enter the shower fully clothed, and as I sit her on the bench, I unwind Cillian's jacket, tossing it onto the tiled floor.

I didn't imagine that the first time I'd see Elena naked would be like this. But I keep my actions and touches professional, clinical even, as I grab the shower head and start cleaning her body, starting with her messy hands and arms.

Elena doesn't open her eyes, but she doesn't resist either.

She just sits there, completely still, as I wash her. I feel sick for enjoying the fact that I'm using my soaps on her, knowing that she'll smell like me. Right now is not the time, but I can't help it.

I've loved Elena from the moment I met her. Every day since has been spent getting to know who she really is. Cillian can act like he knows Elena or has a deeper connection with her than I do because they've had sex all he wants.

But he doesn't know her like I do.

He doesn't know she only likes Earl Gray tea with honey or that she wants a cat so fucking bad she created a vision board for her potential pet. He doesn't know that she cries over commercials, hates thunderstorms, or that her favorite food of all time is strawberries.

He definitely doesn't know that she's been in high stake situations while with her father and had handled them all with more strength than some made men would have.

These days away from her have been the worst of my life. I've wondered if she's thought of me while she's been gone, but it doesn't matter now, not with the way she spoke to me and looked at me tonight.

The blue eyes I have memorized look up at me as I rinse the shampoo out of her hair and add the conditioner. I've never seen her look as broken as she does now, not even when I held her at Matteo's funeral.

"He sold me, Logan," she rasps out, her brows and face scrunching as she begins to sob again.

I don't remind her of my name; I don't say anything, I just get on my knees, my drenched clothes slapping against the tile as I wrap my arms around her like I have a million times before.

My chest rattles with a purr, a desperate plea from my body to calm the small, broken woman in front of me.

A relieved exhale escapes me when her small, wet arms wrap around my neck, and she cries in the crook of my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, princess," I murmur against her hair.

That only makes her cry harder, but eventually, the only noise in the shower stall is the rumble of my chest purring and the water pelting against the shower tiles.

I rub her wet, naked back and vow to stay in this spot until she lets go.

I'm not sure how long we stay like this, but no words are exchanged between us. My body stills as she pulls away, her arms sliding from my shoulders as she uses them to cover her body.

"Do you want to get out?" I ask her softly, and she nods her head.

All the fire that was in her at that dinner table has been firmly extinguished, and I don't know if I'd prefer her rage over the vacant expression currently on her face.

I turn the water off and grab two towels.

I'm grateful when she lets me dry her hair and body, wrapping the towel around her and carrying her in my arms to sit on top of the sink.

"I'll be right back," I tell her. She gives no acknowledgment as she stares down at the floor.

I undress myself and leave the wet clothes on the floor as I redress and grab some clothes for Elena. Everything is going to be huge on her, but a pair of boxer briefs and a t-shirt will have to do for now.

Elena still has a dazed look on her face as I take the towel off of her head and body and place the t-shirt over her head. She doesn't assist, and I have to handle her like a doll as I get her into the clothes.

I'm about to pick her up again when her eyes meet mine.

"This doesn't change how I feel," she whispers, her eyes lined with redness.

I cup her face, and she flinches but doesn't move.

"I'll spend the rest of my life making this up to you, Elena. It was never supposed to happen like this."

She turns away from my touch, and her chest rattles from a choked-down sob.

"I wanted you to like me. I thought you took your job seriously but that you didn't have feelings for me," she confesses.

"I was never with anyone else. It's always been you. I'll do whatever you ask to prove it to you, princess."

She winces at the pet name but doesn't respond.

"If I asked you to run away with me? To take me away from here?" she asks, her blue eyes boring into mine.

I consider her words.

Could I truly betray my brothers—half-brothers—something they never let me forget?

"It would take time, a lot of planning. We'd be on the run for the rest of our lives, but I'd do it for you," I tell her honestly.

She looks me up and down, not making demands of me right away.

"I want complete honesty between us. I don't forgive you, and I'll never forget. I still hate you right now. But you have to promise to protect me from them, that you won't lie to me anymore."

"They won't hurt you," I tell her honestly.

She glares at me. "I'm not being locked in that room again. I don't want anything to do with any of them. Just promise to protect me like you always have, and I'll work on forgiving you," she bargains.

"I'll do whatever it takes," I repeat honestly, even if it means betraying my family.

I've given them fucking everything. Years of my life, my loyalty, my subserviency. All I've gotten in return is the title of an unwanted bastard. Giving all that up would be easy, and Elena is worth it.

"Tired?" I ask her, and she nods.

I pick her up in my arms. She smells like me as I tuck her into my bed before I slide in next to her. I'm respectful as I lie there, still as a board.

She sighs regretfully as she shifts her body toward mine, consuming my body heat as she lays her head on my chest. I gingerly wrap an arm around her.

"This is only because I've been alone without suppressants for days. It has nothing to do with you," she assures me.

I swallow the hurt. I'll take every lashing she gives me if there's some chance that she will forgive me. Maybe someday, if I work hard enough, prove myself enough, she'll be able to put this in the past.

I know that I'm not a good man; I'm selfish, especially with Elena and what I want, but I've done nothing in my life that's good enough to deserve the Omega in my arms. I'm more than aware of that fact, yet I still don't care.

"Anthony didn't know you were with the O'Briens?" she asks me softly

Another purr rumbles in my chest from hearing her soft voice. Even though her anger is still palpable, I don't care as long as she stays right where she is.

"No, just your father."

"What was the plan? Seduce me, and suddenly I'd have allegiance to the Irish?"

"Your father–" I clear my throat when she stiffens. "Always wanted an alliance. The plan was for us to naturally fall in love with each other and then introduce my brothers and Declan."

She jolts up from my chest and looks at me, tilting her head. She really looks at my features and sighs.

"They're your brothers?"

"Half."

"You're not close?" she asks, and I can see her own pain there from the fact that her and Anthony were never truly siblings.

"We're only a few months apart. Our father cheated on their mother while she was pregnant. They didn't find out about me until we were thirteen when my mom passed. Home life was hard," I admit, leaving out the darker details.

She swallows and nods. I can tell there's some compassion in her eyes, but she's still too pissed to bestow it upon me.

"You'd defy your brothers to make me happy?"

I nod my head, and she swallows.

"Where does Anthony think you are?"

"Well, he tried to kill me. So, I guess that means he knows where I am. He just doesn't know that I'm an O'Brien. I guess I'm not… not legally anyway. Not unless we formed a pack. But he's furious."

"I can't go back to him. I can't stay here either."

While I'd leave with her, if that's what she really wanted, part of me hopes that I can convince her to stay. Now isn't the time, though; the wound is too fresh.

She cuddles back into my chest, and I just breathe her in while wondering how much time and groveling it's going to take to make her see me the way she used to.