21. Reality TV

Chapter Twenty-One

REALITY TV

Indy

“ N ext time, we’re switching. I want to watch you bang Nash. I bet it was super hot.”

Smiling down at Clayton, I brush his hair out of his eyes. “I wouldn’t know.”

“It was.” Nash grunts from behind me, kissing my shoulder before resting his chin there. “It was very hot.”

“Next time, I need to stretch first.” I giggle as my beta pulls a face, lifting his arms above his head to wrap them around my waist. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to be feeling that for the next few days.”

Clay grins that evil grin. “That’s why we do it again. And again. And again. Then, when you’re ready, we’re sticking all three of our dicks in that pretty little pussy of yours, and you won’t ever have to worry about stretching again.”

I sigh as I lean back into my alpha and wrap my arms around my beta’s neck.

What these two did for me, I love them so much more than I can put into words for it.

They instinctively knew what I needed, and in a way, why I needed it, and they made it happen. And it worked. I feel even stronger than I did before, and I feel like I actually do have some control over my life for the very first time.

While I know, in the long run, this is going to be something I’ll look back on and treasure, that I’ll refer to as a new beginning while I’m starting over, but it feels just a little bittersweet.

“He’ll come around, honey,” Nash whispers as he nuzzles my neck. “Have faith in that. In him.”

I look back at him with an arched brow. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, okay, I know he hasn’t given you any reason to, but do it for me.”

“And me,” Clayton chimes in. “You two might be scent matches, but we know that dumbass better than he knows himself. He won’t be able to fight this much longer, especially now that we can brag about knowing what your pussy tastes like.”

My cheeks get hot and I swat his chest. “Oh my god, is this what it's going to be like now?”

He nods proudly. “Yes. Forever and always, we will discuss your pussy.”

“Great. I can’t wait until Mona gets to hear about how it doesn’t need to stretch ever again.”

Clay barks out a laugh as my alpha chuckles behind me. “I like this.”

I turn my head with a frown, unsure what exactly it is he’s referring to.

We’ve covered a lot in the last few months, even more in the last few hours, and our relationship has taken a turn I think all of us were ready to embrace for a while.

What Nash said could be taken any number of ways, and I’m not sure which one he means right now.

“You.” He smiles, once again knowing exactly what I’m thinking. “It’s been nice seeing you come out of your shell, watching you get comfortable enough with us to show us who you are.”

“You’re just saying that because my naked butt is super close to your naked dick.”

Both of my mates crack up at that but Nash shakes his head. “I mean, that’s a bonus. Makes me glad Clay jizzed all over my jeans.”

“You’re welcome.”

He rolls his eyes at our beta. “But I mean it. We knew you were smart from the very beginning, but seeing you loosen up and settle in, it’s been nice.”

“You’re wicked funny, pretty girl.” Clayton adds. “And ballsy as fuck. Nashy just means you’re perfect for us, all three of us, and it's kind of amazing whenever you show us something new.” Then he smirks. “Like your naked butt.”

“Ridiculous,” I say as I lean down and kiss him. “Wonderful, but ridiculous.” I turn to kiss Nash as well, smiling when his glasses bump my nose.

“I know this is our recovery time, and we need to feed you before we do anything else,” my alpha says before kissing me again. “But you know, in this position, with the three of us naked as hell, it would be really easy for me to scoot you around and set you on my cock without hardly any work at all.” He laughs as I scowl. “And all Clayton would have to do is flip over onto his stomach, and he could eat your pussy while I fuck you.”

Oh boy.

Apparently giving me back some of my control also opened the floodgates for filthy mouths and even dirtier minds.

Not that I’m complaining, not really, but I haven’t had any kind of sex that I genuinely enjoyed until now, and part of why we’re laying in bed like this is because I still can’t stand up.

And that’s without having a real dick inside me.

I might implode when that happens.

“I love your enthusiasm,” I say as I settle against him and go back to playing with Clay’s hair. “But you were right. This is our recovery time, or at least it’s mine, and I do need to eat before?—“

I jump as the bedroom door swings open, and I hear, “We got a fucking problem.”

Panic immediately sets in as I look at Bramley, the man out of breath, covered in blood, and very pissed off.

“Oh my god.” I hop off the bed, scent match mode apparently activated as I hurry toward him, prodding his chest, and start looking for wounds. “Are you hurt? What happened? It’s your shoulder, isn’t it? I knew you were doing too much, too soon. I?—“

“Back. Off. Female.”

I freeze, the tone of his voice one I am not a fan of. “Excuse me?”

“I told you to back the fuck off, and stop touching me.” Bramley narrows his eyes above his mask, and suddenly I have the urge to smack it right off his face again.

“Oh, this is going to be good.”

My head snaps toward Clayton at the same time as Bram’s, both of us glaring at our beta as he scoots up to Nash and nudges him.

“My money’s on Indy. She is feisty.” He blows me a kiss. “And she’s using all of her assets.”

Nash nods toward me, blushing something fierce even though he’s smirking at me, which is when I realize I leapt out of bed to save my scent match from nothing, while I was buck ass naked.

Whatever.

I don’t even care.

Bramley claims he doesn’t want me, that he couldn’t care any less what happens to the three of us if he tried, fine. He can stand here and be a brooding dickhead while I argue with him in the buff. I bet he can even smell sex in here. I know I can, and I hope that gets right under his skin, too.

I take that back.

I’m happy, and I do not regret anything I just did with our mates, and I’m not going to use it or them as a way to make my match feel anything at all. He’s welcome to join us when he gets his head out of his ass, and until then, I’m going to pretend like I don’t want to smack the shit out of him.

“Fine,” I say as I turn back to Bram, crossing my arms against my chest in a way that pushes my breasts up. “I won’t touch you, but can you at least confirm or deny any new injuries so they”—I nod toward Nash and Clay—“don’t have to worry about you finding a new kind of stupid to stress them out with?”

Bramley huffs, his chest pumping hard enough to make me wonder if he ran all the way here from god knows where, or it’s walking in on us like this. “None.”

“No new injuries?”

He shakes his head.

“Great.” I spin on my heel and march my bare ass back to the bed, climb over Clay, and burrow in between him and Nash. “I’m so glad to hear that you’re only suffering from old gunshot wounds, and the personality of a rabid baboon.”

Nash starts coughing, choking on nothing but the air in his lungs, and our beta barks out a laugh, grabs my face, and plants a kiss on my lips. “God, I fucking love you.”

Everything, all of my insides melt, and I can feel the stupid smile on my face as he says those words.

I haven’t said it to either of them yet, I just keep hoping they know I love them until I can.

“So, what’s the problem?” Nash crosses his legs at the ankles, flexing his toes before he starts bouncing his right foot.

A nervous tell.

If I didn’t have my own, I’m not sure I would have caught onto Nash’s, but when he bounces his foot like that, it means he’s worried. I didn’t know about the thing with his toes until now, and that’s only because I keep looking at his and Clayton’s compared to mine, and giggling over how much bigger they are.

Bramley stares daggers at me for a few seconds, breathing hard, and not saying a word.

It would be so much easier to stay mad at him if I couldn’t smell him, especially when his scent is flying out of him in an attempt to replace all of the oxygen in the room, but I guess he has the same problem I do. Which means I’m just going to be mad, and turned on all the time. Probably even after he stops fighting our bond.

Falling in love and finding your match does not mean someone gets a personality makeover. That, I’m sure of, inexperience be damned.

Aren’t we adorable?

“At Nan’s,” the big behemoth grunts, finally peeling his eyes off me to look at our alpha. “Someone broke in.”

All three of us sit up at that, the two males immediately searching for clothes as my anxiety spikes, and sends me right to the moon.

“Is she ok?” I wring my hands for a moment, then grab the sheet and start twisting it between my fingers as those cold, dark eyes zero in on me again. “Please tell me Mona is ok.”

For a split second, it almost looks like Bram’s expression softens but it passes quickly, and he starts ignoring me again. “I went inside looking for them, forgot Pap had an appointment. They weren’t home, but they had fucking company.”

“How many?” Nash picks up his shirt then his jeans, forgetting all about what happened to them a little while ago. “You need?—“

“I took care of them.”

Clayton stops, annoyance rolling off of him in waves. “So, what, you’re here for a body dump? You’re unbelievable.”

“Clean up your own mess, Butch,” Nash grunts as he sits down on the edge of the bed. “You can’t all but ice us out then come running when you kill a couple of strangers in Nan’s barn.”

Ignoring most of that, and banking it for later, I start chewing the inside of my cheek as I ask, “Do you know where they came from?”

Bram frowns, probably, as he turns to me. “No.”

That’s good.

Most of Harden’s men were mandated to wear some sort of ID showing they worked at the ranch. If he sent someone to find me, they’d have to have a badge or something, and Bramley would have seen that when he ran into them.

I clear my throat, trying to seem like I’m not about to freak out. “Do you know who they are?”

“No… I got names but that doesn’t tell me shit.”

I’m not sure if that’s good or not, names don't necessarily mean they worked at the ranch. We all have names, first and last, some even have middle names, and that doesn’t mean they’re farriers or tattoo artists, same as it wouldn’t mean they work at that horrible place.

“Do you…” My stomach pitches before it ties itself in knots. “Do you know why they were here?”

“Why?”

I shake my head, fighting the need to run to my nest.

If I do that, if I show them I’m starting to panic at all, that could lead to questions I’m not ready to answer. Questions I don’t want to answer. Answers that could change the life I’m trying to build with my mates.

“Indy?” Bram takes one step toward me, and I swear I hear concern in his voice, but that must mean I’m really spiraling.

Why would he care if I’m on the verge of a panic attack?

“You asshole,” Nash shoves past Bram as he rounds the bed, coming straight for me with worry in his eyes. “Indy, sweetheart, look at me.”

I’m trying to, but I can’t see him.

The more I try to focus, the harder it is, and the closer I get to that free fall.

“Get over there.”

I hear Clayton’s voice, but he sounds so far away. So far, and out of reach.

My chest starts to heave, pumping hard in order to keep up with my heartbeats, but I can’t get any air. It’s like my lungs are closed up, sealed tightly, and I can’t take a full breath. I keep twisting the sheet, my fingers sore, the skin growing raw, scraping against the soft fabric as if it were sandpaper. My vision goes dark around the edges, blurring in and out, filling with spots then a flash of light, and just when I feel like I’m about to scream, everything suddenly stops.

“Indigo.”

I blink away the tears, and the fog, my hands stilling, and I finally take a deep breath.

“That’s it, honey.”

That voice.

That’s the voice, those are the words that pulled me back, the one I swore I heard when I knew I was going to die.

Finally able to focus on more than my blood rushing in my ears, I can feel warm, gentle pressure on different parts of my body, and immediately start to analyze.

Nash is behind me.

I know it’s him, pressing his front to my back, his arms tight around my waist, his nose buried in my hair.

My hands, they stopped because Clay is sitting in front of me, holding them. My hands are on top of his, his tattooed fingers threaded through mine, my knuckles pressed against his lips.

When the fog completely lifts, that’s when I realize that it wasn’t just the two of them who kept me from totally losing it.

Bramley fucking Ambrose is crouching next to me, his dark eyes fixed on my face, his gigantic hand on my neck while his thumb brushes over my erratic pulse. Bram’s voice is the one I heard, his bark the sound that not only pulled me back to them now, it pulled me to them months ago.

“You good?” He asks, his fingers flexing against the base of my head.

I glance around the room, making sure I’m not hallucinating this entire thing as part of a panic attack. “I think so.”

Bram gives a curt nod, maintaining eye contact a few seconds longer before he gets to his feet and walks back toward the door. He doesn’t leave, though, he just takes up his post in front of it, his kindness, his willingness to tap into our bond, fleeting.

“You okay, pretty girl?” Clayton asks, his usual bright smile dimmed with worry. “You need anything?”

I shake my head and squeeze his hands. “I have what I need.”

“You’re sure?” Nash presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You name it, we get it.”

“I’m sure.” I tilt my head so he has to look at me. “I promise, I have everything I need.”

“Why do you want to know what those guys were doing here?”

Rolling my eyes, I huff, “It’s nice to know you can roll right back into being a dickhead so easily.”

Our alpha and beta both chuckle at that, each of them kissing me before resuming whatever they were doing before I lost my shit.

Bramley narrows his eyes and crosses his arms against his mammoth chest. He doesn’t say anything, not right away, he just stares at me long and hard, like he’s digging through my brain to find the answer himself.

And goddamnit, of course he does.

“Stand up.”

“Excuse me?” I hate that I know why he’s asking that, whether he really does or not.

There’s only one reason, and it makes sense that this jerk would know that without actually knowing that.

“Up,” he grunts. “On your feet, omega.”

I shake my head and mirror his position from my place in the bed. “Don’t you dare try using your bark on me again. A panic attack was one thing, but prying information out of me is something else entirely, and it’s not exactly playing fair.”

One dark brow lifts, and I know I’m cooked.

He doesn’t have to play dirty, or even a little messy. I can’t go on keeping this from them, it was a matter of time before it came out, and I might as well rip the band aid off so I can deal with the aftermath now, before I had the chance to profess my love and embrace some stupid happily ever after.

With a sigh, I untangle the sheet from my lap then get to my feet, turning toward Bramley so he can find exactly what he was looking for.

“Christ.”

That didn’t take long.

“Jesus fuck, I’m such an idiot.”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” I say as I fold my arms against my chest and look out the window. Which is covered by curtains.

Clayton stares at me, I can see both him and Nash out of the corner of my eye. “What are we looking at?” Then he takes a step closer as he says, “Other than our fucking gorgeous omega in all of her naked glory.”

I snort and roll my eyes because I know that’s not what Bram is thinking.

“I don’t know how I didn’t put it together sooner.” He rubs a hand over his hair with a sigh. “Fuck.”

“Will someone please tell us what the hell is going on?” Nash moves closer, placing his hand on the small of my back.

It’s a reassuring gesture, one that has me turning a small smile his way, but I know it’s more for him than it is for me.

I look at Bramley and pop my hip out. “Do you want to tell them, or should I?”

“Tell us what?” They ask in unison.

“She’s a Harden omega,” he grunts, Bramley almost disgusted by the words as they fall from his lips. “That’s her fucking number.”

He nods toward me, and I point to the digits tattooed on my skin.

“Indy?” Nash looks between us. “Is that true? You were at the ranch?”

Here we go. “I was born there. Well, I was born in Virginia but I was carried to almost term there, and my mother and I were sent back when my father died.”

The entire vibe in the room changes, shifting from the weird cocktail of emotions it was a few minutes ago to straight up tension. Heavy, thick tension.

And I don’t have the goddamn patience to wait for the onslaught of questions.

“I’m not sure what you want to know, but I’m guessing this changes any long term plans, assuming you probably have a pretty good idea what happens there.”

I feel so gross.

Telling the men I love, the pack I want a future with, that I was used for years by countless alphas.

I wasn’t exactly thrilled with my life before this, not really a fan of how things played out, but even still, I never felt disgusted with myself. Harden and his men, the alphas that came in hoping to knock us up or get knocked up by one of us? Absolutely. They are the epitome of disgusting, lower than scum human beings, but that’s where my feelings like that stopped.

Until now.

Right now, I feel dirty. I feel broken, and like any hope I had is slipping away.

But no one says anything.

Nothing to support how I’m feeling, or to contradict it.

That makes me feel like I want to run away and hide.

Instead, I settle for zigzagging between Nash and Clayton, rip the sheet off the bed, and wrap it around myself because I need something to try to comfort myself. Especially if no one else is going to anymore.

Pulling the material tighter around my shoulders, I fight the way my nose stings and my eyes well.

I haven’t cried because of an alpha yet, and I don’t plan to start just because my scent match and mates don’t want a used up omega. I can’t even blame them for that.

“Do you know them?” I look up as Bram walks toward me, his hand outstretched, what looks like cards between his fingers. “Recognize them at all?”

The second my eyes land on the photos, I wretch and turn away.

“Indy?”

I hold up one hand while I cover my mouth with the other, shaking my head while I try to combat the incredibly strong urge to vomit.

All three of them take a step toward me, those stupid bonds forcing them to act even when they don’t want to, but Bram is the one who continues speaking. “You do.”

“What gave it away?” My stomach rolls and I heave again. “The need to puke, or the intense panic?”

“How do you know them? Did they work at the ranch?”

Shaking my head, I take a few deep breaths and slowly get myself under control.

For all of two seconds before Bramley says, “They told me they were sent to look for an omega. Some guy named Hall sent them, and?—“

“What?” I practically screech, straight up fear slicing through me over that name. “They said Hall sent them?”

He nods. “Is he someone who works for Harden?”

The room starts to spin as I sway on my feet, quickly reaching for the nearest piece of furniture to grab onto. “No. He… Hall… oh my god.”

Without warning, I heave again, this time everything I’ve ever eaten coming up, and thankfully, I manage to aim for the fireplace.

After a few minutes straight of throwing up, I spit a few times, then muster the strength to ask, “Did they say if he was close?”

Bram shakes his head.

Well, at least that’s a good thing.

It doesn’t mean a lot, not when he has people looking for me.

Assuming they are looking for me.

Which means they need to know as much as possible about Hall and his pack because he’s deranged, and I wouldn’t put it past him to do something crazy just to find me. He wiped out his last pack because of me, why would this town be any different?

“He… Hall is an alpha in the pack that was…” I turn and look between them, my heart hurting over what I’m about to say. “For almost three years, they tried to breed me without any results.” I flinch at their reaction, Nash going ramrod straight with a growl, Clayton sinking to the edge of the bed with a look of horror on his face. And Bramley doesn’t let on that he’s fazed at all except for the fact that he breaks the IDs in two, and crumples up the hard plastic in his hand. “Foster and Hall were the alphas who ran things, Aaron was another in their pack but I didn’t see him very often and when I did, Nicolas came with him.”

“Why would he be looking for you?” Bram grits out through clenched teeth. “Didn’t he know…”

“That I was sent to be put down? They have to notify them, they pay to breed with omegas. If they don’t say anything when one of us is disposed of, it creates all kinds of problems that Harden can’t make go away.” I hug myself as tight as I can, trying to keep the nausea at bay while calming myself down. “Plus, Foster and Hall knew this was my last chance.”

“Don’t they”—Nash swallows hard—“switch packs or something when that happens?”

I nod, avoiding eye contact the best I can. “I’m thirty two, and I presented when I was fifteen. Do the math. They were my last shot at staying alive.” No matter how meaningless that really was. “And Hall, he was in a different pack before the one with Foster, he knew first hand how useless I was.”

“Wait,” Bram grunts. “How the hell does that work?”

“He’s deranged. When his original pack decided to try with another omega, Hall put up a fight. He wasn’t convinced I wouldn’t produce any offspring, he became obsessed with the idea, and he ended up murdering his pack just so he could weasel his way into the next one who decided to breed me.”

Clayton blinks then shakes his head. “Yeah, I’d say that’s pretty fucked up.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” I mumble, immediately regretting it because of their, once again, extremely tense reactions.

“Explain,” Bramley growls. “Now.”

“You want examples? Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The three men I wanted to give my heart to listen intently, unmoving and on the verge of exploding as I tell them about my experiences with Hall.

He was always too aggressive, he was abusive, and he somehow thought that if I was in pain, it would raise the likelihood of getting pregnant.

I tell them about different times that he was so lost in his rut, so blinded by the urge that he made me bleed, that he would go past when my heat would end, and continuing trying to breed me when my time for it was up.

I had to sit when I started talking about the worst night I ever had at the ranch, short of when my mother died.

It was a party at the main house, one of my first ones without my mom, and part of me was excited to see what would happen when she wasn’t around.

Foolish.

A stupid, foolish girl who thought those parties were a break from the misery of our day to day.

My mom wasn’t supposed to go because of what they had planned for me. They knew she wouldn’t be able to stand by and watch, and she would have to, just like everyone else.

All of the omegas, the other alphas, Harden’s fucking sons. Everyone who paid to be there bore witness to one of the nights that would undeniably change my life forever.

Hall requested mirrors.

Several of them, and they stayed covered until he was ready to use them, so I had no idea they were there until it was too late.

When he was ready, Hall had them all uncovered and moved closer to the table once it was cleared. He had members of his pack as well as the others who were there, help restrain the omegas, tying them up between the mirrors, facing the table in the middle with nowhere to turn. The mirrors were elevated and angled, giving him the best view possible no matter where he looked, and it made it so he didn’t miss anything that happened.

Then he proceeded to humiliate me on a scale I didn’t know existed.

I was stripped of my meager slip, naked in front of so many strangers, something that was far worse than being bare in front of the current breeding pack, or someone on staff at the ranch. Hall put me in the center of the table, chaining my wrists and ankles, attaching them to secret hooks under the wood that aided in forcing me to my knees with my legs splayed beneath me.

He had everyone come up to me, touching, poking, prodding at every bit of exposed flesh. The men shoved their fingers in my mouth, they groped my breasts, spread my vagina and my ass. They looked at, and touched every part of my body, and even though that’s what I was literally born and bred for, it was the first time I truly felt violated and understood what the word meant. Because I was put on display, and more men than what I was used to were able to do whatever they wanted to me, no matter how depraved it was.

After the viewing portion, Hall wanted to show them why he was so infatuated with me.

So, the sick bastard changed my position, forcing me on my hands and knees, facing the mirror across from me, and I wasn’t allowed to look away. He put a bit in my mouth, one similar to what people use on horses, and he used it to make sure I couldn’t move no matter how hard I tried.

Then he raped me.

Whether he felt entitled to do it or not, Hall forced himself on me in front of dozens of people, tugging on the reins, pushing his penis into me without anything to help, and he whipped me with a switch the entire time.

When he grew tired of that, he changed my position yet again, laying me out on my back, my arms and legs spread and pointed toward the four corners of the table. Hall slid me down so my shoulders were at the edge, my head tipped back over it, then he crammed his dick in my mouth and forced himself on me that way, all while hitting my thighs and core with the switch.

From there, it gets blurry.

Hall kept adjusting how I was chained up so he could torture me; hitting, spitting, slapping, and eventually, cutting me with some sort of blade, just to show those men I wouldn’t cry. Because I didn’t.

No matter what he did to me, I didn’t cry.

I wouldn’t give that bastard the satisfaction of my tears, and I still refused when he let every single male in that room have their turn with me.

I was in and out of consciousness by that time, praying for death, both mine and his, and the last thing I remember before I blacked out was Hall making me watch in the mirror above me as he threatened one of the female omegas into climbing above my head, saying he’d kill us both if she didn’t get herself off by riding my face, and he had a male omega fuck me in the ass with his penis while simultaneously shoving a champagne bottle in and out of my vagina like it was some sex toy, complete with the contents inside while he did.

They both cried.

They cried, and they apologized to me over and over, I remember that, just like I remember how Hall had them both at gunpoint during the entire ordeal.

I had to watch every sick and twisted thing happen, completely helpless to do anything for any of us, right up until I passed out. Which only happened when one of his pack mates brought my mother into the room.

The last thing I heard was her sobbing, and begging for them to let me go.

“When Hall got with Foster, after killing everyone in that first pack, he toned it way down.” I chuckle, but this isn’t funny. It’s mortifying to relive but it’s better that it’s all out there. My mates deserve to know. “He’d still beat me if Foster wasn’t with him, but that was rare. Foster had been on a waitlist for me, and he wasn’t as cruel because of it. He wasn’t cruel at all, if I’m being honest, and I’m grateful for the way it carried over to Hall.” Staring into the empty fireplace, I shiver, all of these memories making me sick, and terrifying me all over again since he’s apparently looking for me. “He knew they were going to kill me, that I had gone through the final breed and was going to be put down if I didn’t produce, so I’m not really sure why Hall is looking for me.”

He was there that night, I didn’t see him but I swear I heard him, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was one of the ones trying to beat me to death.

I pull the sheet tighter around my shoulders, rubbing my arms so I don’t start wringing my hands again. “He might have known where they were taking my body. That could be why he’s looking for me.” I glance back at my mates, regretting it as soon as I do, then look away. “If he did, and he went there for some fucked up reason, then didn’t find what he was looking for, I could see Hall getting pissed and wanting to find out what happened.”

That’s the only explanation, really.

How else would he know I’m not dead, and he’d be able to go looking for me?

The room is totally silent, save for the sound of their heavy breathing, and I can feel my anxiety start to pick up again because of it.

I’d almost rather they scream and yell, that they go off about how disgusted they are, how completely broken I am, and how they wish I never showed up in their town.

Bramley already regretted bringing me here, I’m sure he hates himself for it now.

Proven when he’s the one who breaks the silence.

“We’ve got some bodies to dump.”

I turn slowly, afraid of any number of things I might see, and for some reason, when it’s only Nash and Clayton walking out of the room behind Bramley, that hurts more than I thought it was going to.

They didn’t say anything, not even goodbye. I doubt they gave me a second glance.

But I’m alone now, and it’s something I’m probably going to have to get used to, because if my mates, my scent match, doesn’t want me after hearing how I spent my time at Harden Ranch, there isn’t a chance in hell anyone else will either.

No, I can imagine I’ll have to get used to being alone all over again, and it's going to be just as hard as it was when my mother died. Maybe even harder, since I know what it's like to go through that kind of grief, to feel that kind of loneliness, then be given a taste of what it’s like when that void is filled.

I know what it’s like to have a pack, to feel loved and wanted, after losing the most important person in my life, and being alone for a long time after that.

The first tear breaks free as all of that sinks in, and I quickly move across the room, heading right for my nest in order to attempt to soothe all of these feelings that are tearing me apart.

But, all that does is make me cry.

My nest smells like Nash and Clayton; they’re everywhere in here, I can even smell them on my skin, and as much as I should want to scrub them off of me, I don’t.

I can’t.

And that makes me cry even harder.

How am I going to move on, or start over, when I can’t imagine doing it without having them with me?

I collapse into my pillows and blankets as soon as the door closes, sobbing into the soft fabrics until I start to feel sick.

My entire body hurts, and it feels like it’s on fire. I start to heave again, clutching my stomach as I bring my knees to my chest.

This is far worse than anything I’ve experienced before, and if this is what it feels like to have my heart broken by not one, but three men, then I’m done for.

I’m through with entertaining silly thoughts, for allowing myself to have hope. And I’m done with the idea of falling in love, and having a life better than anything I could have dreamt for myself.

Being in love hurts far too much, and since that’s a pain I can actually control, I’m choosing to stop it now.

Too bad scent matches and bonding with your mates isn’t anything you can turn off and on.

If they were, I wouldn’t be lying on the floor, crying myself sick, and longing for the men I won’t ever truly have.

Oh my god, why does this hurt so fucking bad?