Still Asleep

Carys

S wanley’s fist flies through the air, hitting Preston right in the face. Blood sprays from his nose and mouth, splattering against the bathroom’s pristine white tile. It drips down the walls, hitting the ledge of the bathtub, then it spills over the lip, mixing with my own. The pool of blood around me grows, sucking my body into the hot, sticky mess.

I open my mouth to beg Swanley for help, but I gag at the wretched smells that force their way into my lungs. It’s a thick mixture of Preston’s harsh citrus aroma, sharp metallic blood, and the softest trace of Judson. Just like Christmas….

My brain is foggy and my skin is searing hot as the blood continues to rise. Swanley keeps beating Preston, the whole bathroom fills with threatening growls and pained grunts.

The blood reaches my face, tickling my cheeks and covering my mouth. I’m going to drown, but that’s okay. Because at least Preston won’t live either. He’ll never hurt anyone else ever again.

My alphas will make sure of it.

My eyes fly open as I’m ripped from my dream, but unlike all the other times, I’m not scared.

Something from my dream lingers in my mind, keeping my fear at bay—Preston is dead. Well, he’s not really dead. It was only a dream, but for some reason, it still brings me comfort.

I sit, smiling at the adorable snores that leave Isaac’s parted lips. He looks so sweet, curled up next to me in his oversized college T-shirt and a pair of Kofi’s boxers. But my alphas aren’t here.

Light cuts from under the bathroom door, and I can hear the sounds of the shower running. I’m sure the pair are in there, enjoying some alone time. They think they’re sneaky when they run off to rut each other, but I kind of like knowing that they tend to each other when I’m sleeping, or relaxing, or otherwise unable to help. They’re very considerate.

The shower turns off and I scoot to the end of the bed. I want to catch my alphas in their post-sex haze. I love how sleepy they both look after they’ve come.

Trying to suppress a giggle, I tiptoe across the room and push open the bathroom door. All at once, my breath whooshes out of me in shock.

“ Judson ?”

The young alpha has a towel wrapped around his waist, while Swanley is as naked as the day he was born, both having clearly just got out of the shower. “What…” Deep confusion rocks me, and I take a step back.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Judson says, holding out his hand as if to stop my growing panic, but I’m not panicking. I don’t think.

“It really isn’t.” Swanley’s voice is deep, incredibly serious. “Please, Carys.” He points to the bedroom behind me. “Sit down, and I’ll explain.”

“Are you two…” I don’t know if I’m happy or jealous or relieved, but I know that I cannot sit down right now. “Did you just?—”

“Oh my god, Jud!” Isaac practically yells right behind me, making me jump. “What happened?”

I look back at the young alpha, trying to figure out what Isaac is talking about. And then I see it. Judson holds the corner of a cream-colored towel high around his waist. He’s trying to cover an ugly cut on his side. It’s stitched up, but a bit of blood seeps from the corners, soaking into the towel’s puffy fabric.

Am I still dreaming?

“Kofi!” Isaac yells, spinning around to look for our alpha. “Where is he? KOFI!”

“I’m okay.” Judson touches Isaac’s forearm, but it does nothing to quiet the beta’s spiraling fear.

“Kofi!” he yells again.

“What's wrong?” Our pack alpha runs into the room. He’s wearing only his boxers, and his hair looks damp.

Why is everyone wet?

This has to be a dream.

“Swan and Jud are hurt,” Isaac says, pointing to Swanley’s hands. They’re busted up, his knuckles split wide open. A line of blood trickles down his middle finger, but, surprisingly, Kofi doesn't seem alarmed at all.

“I’ll take care of this,” Kofi says, trying to usher me and Isaac toward the bed. “It’s still very late. Go back to sleep.”

“Are you kidding me?” Isaac’s voice rises and my mouth falls open. He can get a little mouthy with our alpha, but he never yells.

“We’re not hurt,” Swanley says as if trying to calm a couple of wayward toddlers. “We’re both fine. Everyone can go back to bed.”

“You’re fine?” Isaac curls his fists tight. “Your clothes are covered in blood and dirt.” He points to a pile of dirty laundry. “Your knuckles are busted up.” He points at Swan. “And Jud…” He pushes at the young alpha’s hand, exposing the fresh wound. It’s so puffy and raw. “What…?” Isaac shakes his head, clearly at a loss for words. “How?”

“We got into a fight,” Judson says, his voice weirdly loud. “Swan and I were arguing about work, and we let things get a little out of hand.”

“Yup,” Swanley quickly agrees, nodding his head fiercely. “We beat each other up, and now we’re good.”

Isaac turns his head, so he’s glaring at the pair out of the corner of his eyes. “Yeah?” He presses his mouth into a tight line. “That’s the story you’re going with?”

I have to be dreaming.

None of this makes sense.

I glance around the room, but nothing looks off. There’s no weird lighting or scary sounds, and I’m not in that horrible blood-filled bathtub. Sucking in a deep breath, I pick out all the familiar scents all around me. At first, I can only smell my pack, but then something else hits my nose.

It’s familiar. I think.

A dangerous scent that makes my nerves stretch tight.

The intense need to pinpoint it pulls within me and I close my eyes, concentrating hard. There’s the sharp copper scent of blood, but it’s laced with something woodsy. A strange pulling sensation in my chest deepens and twists as I find slight notes of citrus too. It mixes with Jud’s aroma and my whole body goes numb.

Terrifying images of that night rip through my mind. It’s all the same things I dream about. Preston’s angry red face, him chasing me through the house. The giant kitchen knife in his hand. I remember the feel of the carpet on my feet as I raced to the guest bathroom. It was the only room in the house with a lock.

In my mind, I can hear that bathroom door slam shut, and I’m transported right back to that night.

“Carys!” Preston pounds his fist on the bathroom door, making the wood groan and the hinges rattle.

I back up, pressing my bottom hard against the sink.

“Carys,” he growls, his mouth clearly pressed right up against the seam of the door. “Open this fucking door, omega. That is an order!”

My whole body shakes violently with the need to obey my mate, but I can’t. If I do, he’ll kill me. I just know it.

“Omega!” The door vibrates as he hits it over and over again. Then to my absolute horror, the wood snaps, and Preston’s bloody fist appears in a wide crack. He rips at the splintered wood, tearing it away so he can reach the lock.

No!

I spin, trying to figure out what to do, but there’s nowhere to go. Not even a window. But even if there was, we’re several stories up. The fall would definitely kill me, but I think I'd welcome that compared to what Preston is about to do.

“Come here, you fucking bitch!” he spits out, finally gripping the doorknob and wrenching the door open.

Defeat settles over me and I say a silent prayer, hoping my punishment is quick.

“You slapped me,” Preston says, his voice instantly deep and calm. I hate that he can swing from a painful roar to a terrifying whisper at the drop of a hat. “What do you have to say for yourself, Carys?”

I know what he wants to hear.

He wants me to beg and plead, take my beating, then suck his dick, thankful to be alive for one more day. But I’m not going to do any of that. I’m too tired.

When I don’t answer, Preston takes a small step toward me. I angle away from him, not stopping until the back of my legs hit the bathtub.

“Fucking answer me!” Preston roars, making me flinch, before once again dropping his voice to a controlled whisper, “What do you want to say?”

I open my mouth and say the first thing that pops into my head. “Just kill me already.” My hands hang at my sides, making it clear I’m not going to fight him, but Preston doesn't move. He stays rooted to the spot, his eyes wide and the kitchen knife still in his hand. “Do it,” I say a little louder. “Kill me. It’s what you’ve always wanted to do. So do it!”

My words seem to have broken his trance, and Preston blinks repeatedly. “What I’ve always wanted to do?” He lets out a dark chuckle. “No. I have not always wanted to kill you. I wanted to teach you, to mold you, to make you the best version of yourself.” He looks at me with so much bitter disgust. “But you’re too stupid to learn anything.”

His insult doesn’t even phase me.

“What I wanted ,” he stresses the word as a manic smile takes hold, “was an omega that wanted to please her mate. Not a fat, stupid, weak ? —”

“Shut the fuck up!” I yell, and I’m suddenly falling.

My bottom smacks the bottom of the bathtub, followed quickly by my head bouncing off the ledge. My legs dangle over the edge. My hands move to cradle the back of my skull, but before I can check for a wound, red hot pain pierces my chest.

Preston’s hand flies, drawing the knife up and down, up and down, pushing the blade deeper and deeper into my body. I kick and scream, swinging my arms at anything and everything, but it does no good. My chest, arms, legs and face are being lanced with a deep agony that sucks the breath right out of me, making it impossible for me to fight back.

Preston’s labored grunts fill the tiny room. I can hear myself wheezing, making low sickly sounds like a gutted animal.

Slowly, the pain in my chest starts to fade and my hands weave unsteadily. My throat burns and my eyes water from the exertion as I desperately try to breathe.

Preston continues to slice into me, but I can’t feel it anymore. My body is too heavy, like dead meat stuck to someone else’s bones. My head lolls to one side and I watch as my own blood sprays across the white porcelain bathtub. It’s everywhere. Even dripping from the ceiling.

My vision goes blurry around the edges and my hands fall onto the raw wounds on my stomach. I blink, struggling to keep my eyes open, but right before I black out, Preston is jerked backward.

Someone is hitting Preston, punching him over and over, just like he does to me. I want to scream out for help, but the shadows are creeping in, consuming my vision.

But right before the blackness takes me, my hero turns to me, and Judson’s beautiful face comes into view.

“Carys?” Kofi’s voice is so far away. He sounds scared. But I can't see him. I’m too lost in my own memories.

Did that really happen?

Was Judson there?

“You tried to save me,” I whisper, my senses slowly coming back.

“What did she say?” Swanley says right next to me. He’s sitting too. Are we on the bed?

“Carys,” Isaac sits on the other side, making the bed dip, “What did you say, omega?”

“That night.” I look up and my eyes immediately land on Kofi, kneeling in front of me. “Judson?” There’s movement at the back of the room, and the alpha moves forward, coming into view. “Were you really there?” I ask him. “Did that really happen?”

“What are you talking about, omega?” Kofi rests his hands on my knees. “Did what happen?”

I touch my temple. My memory is still a little foggy. “Did you attack Preston?”

Swanley’s big body jerks as he cuts a look at Judson. The two alpha’s share a meaningful look. Even Kofi looks tense.

“What do you mean?” Isaac slips his hand over mine, holding me ever so gently.

“That night,” I squint at Judson’s face, trying desperately to hang on to that memory. “When Preston stabbed me. You were there.” I phrase it like a question, but I don’t need him to answer. I know it’s true.

Judson slowly opens his mouth. He moves it as if wanting to talk, but nothing comes out.

“Jud?” Kofi’s deep tones cut through the silence as he stands. “What is Carys talking about?” He turns to the young alpha.

Jud shakes his head, his face growing red. Is he holding his breath? Then all at once, Jud’s big body deflates and he whispers, “I thought she was dead,” he says to Kofi, tears making his eyes glassy. “She was ripped to pieces, her eyes half-open, laying in a pool of her own blood. I’m, I’m so sorry.” His voice cracks. “Carys,” he finally looks at me, deep regret etched between his brows, “I’m so sorry.” His knees buckle and Kofi moves, catching the young alpha before he can hit the floor.

“It’s okay,” Kofi whispers, and Isaac moves, letting our pack alpha sit Judson next to me. “Swan, get him some water.”

“I’m so sorry.” Judson shakes his head, tears dripping off of his cut jaw. But he doesn’t cry like I do. He’s quiet, looking almost stoic. “I shouldn’t have left her,” he whispers at the floor, still clutching the wound on his side. “I got into the elevator, and left her all alone with him.”

“Did you go back?” Kofi asks. His voice is gentle and understanding.

“Drink this,” Swanley places a bottle of water to Jud’s lips, helping him drink. It’s such a kind gesture for two alphas that just beat each other up.

“I did go back,” Judson says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I got all the way to the parking garage before turning back around. Something told me to stay.” He turns his head toward me, and our eyes finally meet. He looks gutted, haunted, maybe even destroyed. I know the feeling.

“How did you get inside the apartment?” I ask, placing my hand on Judson’s knee.

“Carys,” Kofi says my name softly. “Are you sure you want to talk about this?” He wraps his hand around my wrist. “I don’t want you to get too distressed. It isn’t good for you, or for the baby.”

I nod, understanding his worry. “I’m okay,” I say. “I need to hear. I need to know what actually happened after I blacked out.”

“Okay,” Kofi says, but I can see it in the way his shoulders fall. He doesn’t want me to talk about this, but he doesn’t have to worry. I’ll be okay. I’m surrounded by my pack. “Jud,” he looks at my old guard, “what happened when you got to the apartment?”

Judson holds my gaze as he talks. “I heard your screams the second I opened the front door. I ran straight to you, but it was too late.”

“How did you get it open?” Isaac asks, moving to Kofi’s side.

“It was unlocked,” Judson says, before turning back to Kofi. “Preston was still attacking her in the bathtub. I jerked him off of her and beat him senseless.” His eyes drift down Kofi’s big body as if trying to remember it. “I stabbed him in the gut, then checked on Carys.” His fingers curl around my hand on his knee.

“Why didn’t Preston mention you at the trial?” Swan is all business, asking calm, collected questions. I have to give him credit for being able to think clearly right now. I’m far too frazzled and based on the intense look on Isaac's face, he is too. “I’ve read all the transcripts,” Swan says. “You weren't listed as a witness.”

Jud nods, wrapping his other hand around mine too. “When I jerked Preston off of her, his head whacked the floor really hard. It knocked him out almost instantly. I assume he didn’t remember me being there. He didn’t say…” He trails off, and Swanley shifts as if uncomfortable. I place my free hand on his forearm, hoping to settle my red-haired alpha.

This is hard on all of us.

“Once I found out you were alive, I went to the police, but they didn’t care,” Judson continues. “They accused me of lying so I could sell my story.” His dark eyes turn to me. “Then I went to your lawyer. I told her what happened. At first, she tried to tell me that the evidence didn’t match my story, but when I wouldn’t let up, she finally said it was pointless trying to paint Preston as the bad guy. He was a pillar of the community, coming from very old money. She said that she knew for a fact that he had more than one political figure in his pocket.” Jud’s voice edges louder, more bitter. “The next thing I knew, they were accusing you of attempted murder.”

“It’s okay.” I press my nose to his big bicep. “I’m okay.” I smile, but he doesn’t return the gesture. Instead, he bows his head, then leans into me, resting his head on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around him, holding him to me, running my fingers through his hair while he caresses my belly. It’s a gentle touch.

“You don’t hate me?” Judson whispers.

“No.” I kiss his hair, holding him a little tighter.

The room hums with soft silence and the scent of my lovely mates floating around me. It feels safe and cozy. I’m with my pack—my beta and alphas…including Judson.

“Did you really cut off his dick?” Swanley’s hard voice cuts through my cozy feelings, and Isaac instantly groans.

“Swanley!” The beta plants his hands on his hips.

“What? I want to know.” Swan leans forward, looking directly at the young alpha. “Did you?”

“No.” Judson lifts his head, and I swear he’s fighting a trace of a smile there. “That was just a weird rumor. I stabbed him in the gut.”

Swanley nods, but his expression is off. It’s almost as if he’s disappointed Judson didn’t mutilate him. “I would have cut his dick off.”

And for some reason, that makes me laugh.