Good Girl by Sam Hall

Chapter 32

When you first saw the puppeteer in the puppet show, all clad in black, it was hard not to keep seeing them. You lost that childlike innocence that allowed you to think the puppets were real, living, breathing beings and then just saw the adults behind the scenes, wondering what they’d do next. You resented them when the lives of the puppets took a turn for the worse, less satisfied when things got better, knowing they could have made it like that from the start. That feeling was a way more eerie feeling now, at twenty-five.

“I… We…”

I couldn’t get the words out, my mind racing ahead, testing Marcus’ explanation over and over, applying the theory to all the things that had happened to me and then looking at them from a whole new lens.

He’d told me this to throw us together, and it worked, sort of. Both men took a side, sitting me up and then wedging me between them. Brendan held me close, Rhys much more tentative, but soon I felt it, that thrumming energy that came with being with them. I closed my eyes, wanting that, wanting to shut all the questions and theories down, to kick Cyn to the curb and just be the omega. Rhys would order me to lie down, and Brendan would order me to submit as they…

Then I stiffened.

As I riffled through the important events of my life, wondering how the hell Marcus fit in it all, something had my spine going ramrod straight, my eyes wide open.

“Marcus knew that you were my point of weakness,” Mum had said. “You’d already been attacked, something Marcus knew about.” She frowned. “I’ve never been able to work out how.”

A darkened room, a tall figure, the glint of that belt buckle embossed with a design, and a hand pushing me down.I sucked a breath in so fast, I started to choke.

“I’m going to be sick,” I croaked out, getting up and stumbling to Rhys’ toilet.

They followed hot on my heels, one flipping up the lid of the loo, another wrapping a hand in my hair, holding it back. I vomited up everything I had, my stomach muscles clenching with hitherto never seen strength to make sure it was all gone. When the spasms stopped, I was collected up into Bren’s arms, the toilet flushed and a damp face cloth handed to me. But as I cleaned myself up, landing back on Rhys’ bed, I was aware I was playing right into Marcus’ hands. My hair was stroked, hands rubbed circles on my back. I was a sick omega being tended to by her alphas.

I needed to run, but where would be far enough? Not home, not this city. Shit, probably not this country. I needed a passport and money and tickets to help me crisscross the world, creating a path even Marcus couldn’t follow. But how the hell was I going to get all of that?

“We have money,” Brendan said, “and we can get your passport from your house.”

“I said that aloud?” I asked, aghast.

“You’ve said quite a lot, but this is the first bit that made sense,” Rhys replied. “What did he do, Cyn?”

He turned my face towards him, my eyes taking in everything now. The massive set of his shoulders, all those awful bruises, the broad planes of his cheekbones, the way his hair was all different shades of blond and brown mixed together, starting to curl at the ends now because it was getting so long.

“Fuck…you’re the perfect alpha. Of course it was you. You’re sweet and protective and loyal and—”

“Um…thanks?” Rhys frowned, then regretted moving his bruised flesh. “But what did he do? Focus, Cyn. You were doing so well.”

“Does Marcus know everything about you?” I asked, my voice suddenly steadying.

“What?”

“Does he know where you went to preschool, primary school, high school?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Your major life events. Memories you treasure or hate?”

“Yeah,” Bren answered. “Where’s this going?”

“He knows everything,” I hissed, aware I sounded like a crazy person but unable to stop myself.

“What? That’s—” Bren said, but Rhys shushed him. He looked me over closely, seeming to be able to read my expression, my posture, and understand.

“That’s what Marcus does,” Rhys said. “When he gets someone in his sights, he learns every fucking detail about them—their entire history, their medical background, their family, their lives. It’s what he’s like. It seems to…settle him. He can only relax around a person when they’re a known quantity. But that’s not what has your pulse skittering like a scared rabbit.”

I got up, starting to pace back and forth until they joined me, boxing me in. It made sense, I knew that. A small space would make me feel more secure, but did it have to be this? It felt like a trap had been laid for me, one that contained the most delicious of lures, so when their hands landed on my shoulders, my eyes rolled back slightly, my biology kicking in where my psychological strategies had failed.

“Fuck, omega…” Rhys growled.

“Yeah, nah,” Brendan said, spinning me around and pulling me back, holding me against his body. “There’s no alpha this or omega that, not until there’s trust. I’ve always bought into this fucking bullshit, thinking it’s the way, but talking to Mum made me realise. Her and Dad, they have an amazing relationship. One I could only hope to emulate. They do because there’s love—”

“There was never a lack of love here,” Rhys rumbled.

“And respect. We can incapacitate her, change her mind, beat back her will with our commands and our scents. Bamboozle her with bullshit until she doesn’t know what’s up.” Rhys frowned at that. “Or we can save the primal biology for where it belongs—in a relationship of trust. We’re not there yet. Maybe we never will be.” He dropped his head down, grazing his nose along my neck. “But I’m not jeopardising any chance of it for hormonal crap. I want Cyn to be my omega, to mark her as mine before the fucking world, but I want her to want that too.”

I stroked my hand up and down that broad forearm, my fingers naturally finding the grooves in the muscles before I felt his arm loosen.

“You got this, Cyn. Tell us what happened.”

And just then, Bren used a hint of his alpha command for me, rather than against me, the prompt enough to have it all spilling out. Halting, weird, conspiracy theories of doom.

“So, what are you saying? He’s brought us all together? He’s been tracking you since that day?” Rhys asked.

His rational mind rejected the idea thoroughly, something I could understand, but the alpha? It was shocking, seeing Rhys’ eyes flash hot again, a small smile forming, the predator in him elated at such a long, thorough hunt. I found myself pressing harder against Bren, his hand rubbing my arm.

“That idea excites you,” I said.

“I…”

Behind the mask of bruises, there was Rhys—warm, gentle, sweet, bruised, hurting, angry, sad, but also an alpha. Bren’s idea was incredibly seductive, of giving me some sort of control over the alpha-omega relationship dynamic, but he mistook one thing. They would never be able to contain all their alpha shit to only when I gave permission for them to let it out. It was an integral part of who they were.

“I can’t help that,” Rhys replied, stepping closer, a low growl coming from Bren. “The idea that one of us saw you for what you were—ours? That feels good. That they watched over you, ensured your safety, and when the time was right, let you into our pack? That’s what it felt like, what it’s always felt like to me. That you, me, Bren, the others, that we were written in the stars. That you were always there for us to find and claim.”

I stiffened as he reached out, pushing my hair to one side and then stroking his fingers across the scar he’d left.

“That you were mine.” That came out in a more powerful rasp, the bruises helping to cast him as this dark, brutal figure. “My mate. My omega. Mine to care for and look after and to protect, and if asking permission will make you feel more comfortable, I’ll do so, in any situation you like. Right now would be a start.”

“Rhys…” Bren warned.

His thumb went to my lips, parting them to graze my teeth, then touch the tip of my tongue.

“I want to kiss you so very much. The need to do so hurts more than anything someone could do to me. I need your taste, Cyn. Can I kiss you?”

“This is what he wants,” I gasped out, pushing his hand away but feeling the frisson that came from finally touching skin you’d craved for so long. “He’s trying to force us together.”

“Fuck Marcus. Fuck his games. Fuck Benson and his bullshit. Fuck all of it. What do you want, Cyn?”

“Wanting’s never been the problem. There wasn’t one moment when I didn’t want you,” I snapped back, straining against Bren’s arms.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Rhys’ smile was warm, sweet, and somehow also deeply carnal. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that. I thought you’d never want me again.”

“I wish.” My words were harsh, bitten off, and his smile faltered, but he had to know. “I have been haunted by the four of you. You’ve left great big footprints all over my life, and I’m only just discovering how extensively. You marked me that day in the forest, imprinted on me like an animal. All I could think of, feel, fantasise about, need, was you. All of you. Who might I have become if I’d stayed home that day? How would my life have gone? I’ll never fucking know, because all there has been is you, you, you, burned into me, marking me!”

My hand went to the scar on my neck as the tears came.

“I walked into this like a lamb to the slaughter, and the hungry wolves descended. They had the grace to make it good for me, but nonetheless, they tore me in two, then left me bleeding. I’m not an alpha. I can’t break your door down and demand what I want from you. All I can do is strengthen my body and my mind and then bury myself deep in my nest, wrapping the fabrics tight around me and pretending they’re your arms so I’ve got a chance at sleeping.”

Bren hugged me tight, giving me that bone-deep proprioceptive feedback I needed, his lips in my hair and on my neck as he tried to soothe me, mumbling a million little reassuring things. But he couldn’t, not with how things were playing out.

“You don’t want to be the victim anymore. You were always strong, now you’re discovering just how strong,” Rhys replied. His arms went wide, and I could see the shake in his limbs as he did so. “You’re marked by us? Well, the knife cuts both ways. You’re in me bone-deep in a way that no other omega will be. I am utterly, entirely yours, but you were never a passive participant in this. You chose. You can kick down my door anytime, if it means you come in here and take what you need. Take it, Cyn.”

A sob choked me as he sank down onto his knees, just as he had on my lawn that day.

“Take, Cyn, anything and everything you want. I’ll never hold back from you again. Everything I have, it’s yours.”

Bren seemed to know the moment I needed to move before I did, loosening his hold. I stepped free, but having him there, at my back, ready to step between me and his mate at any point made my heart sing. But I had something that was important for me to do now. Rhys’ head was down, so were his arms. He was in a position of pure surrender, something I couldn’t take back then. It made it worse, gave me no boundaries to work with when I was the most out of control, but I had mastered myself. I wiped away my tears, tilted up his head, and then bent over, Bren’s hand on my hip as I brushed my lips against Rhys’.

“Yes, Cyn…” he hissed, not moving, just letting me take.

But that could never last long. His hands rose, tentatively, painfully, trying to close the gap between us, and when I pulled away, his expression took on the familiar shuttered look. But I drew back, feeling Bren step into that, his arms going around me, my lips meeting his as I twisted to meet him. For a second, there was only that, only Bren, but there would never be just one of them, not for long, so I reached out to Rhys, seeing surprise wash over him, then pulled him to his feet.

So there I was, wedged between two alphas, their scents, minty, woody, and wild, filling my nose and turning my body to fire, but I was in control of this. I was in control of them. They hovered, close enough that their bodies brushed against mine, but not moving until I said. I knew if I slid my hands down, I’d find them hard and wanting, but until I did, they wouldn’t move. I looked up at the both of them, my voice not especially steady, and told them how it would be.

“We’re not having sex. I don’t think… I’m not sure anything more than kissing is a good idea.”

“Kissing you is more than I expected to get today. Ever, really,” Bren said. He reached out and brushed my lips with his thumb. “Any day I feel these on mine is a fucking amazing one.” And with a question in his eyes, his hand slid to my jaw as he leaned in closer.

I met him more than halfway, stepping into his arms and his kiss with a kind of openness I hadn’t thought possible days before. I still ached, because I felt it sharply when we did kiss, the need for him roaring to life along with the pain of knowing I hadn’t been able to, but those two things fused into now. Bren helped me, made me feel stronger, worked with me to prepare me for what was coming. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I had a partner, not an alpha or a lover or a mate at my side. When we finally came up for air, we just stood there, smiling, foreheads pressed together.

“If I’m the one doing the taking, I’m gonna need more of that,” I said.

“Yes, love.” He kissed me again, hard, nipping things, before pulling back. “Whenever you want, I’ll be running on my little bunny feet to give them to you.”

And just like that, he broke the tension, made me laugh. Funny was sexy as fuck, which I told him.

“Stop,” he said, punctuating that with another kiss. “You said no sex, and talk like that…” Then he turned me around, hugging me close, the warmth there making my muscles turn to goo. “Now what about our boy there? Do you want any more of that?”

Some of the wariness was back in Rhys’ expression, but he waited us out, a picture of quiet strength.

“Do you?” I asked Bren.

“Naughty girl.” He nipped my ear. “You asking me that because you care for the wellbeing of my relationship, or because it makes you hot to see me kiss him?”

“Why the hell would I choose between two good options?”

We both looked Rhys over, some of his alpha nature rising the longer we did. His spine straightened, his weight shifting from one foot to another, like he was preparing for a fight, but the only blows we’d be throwing were the ones you couldn’t counter. Bren followed me as I moved towards Rhys, having to reach up on my tiptoes and grab him by the neck to draw him down.

But he came, as he always would, I realised. A rush of possessiveness, so intense, it took my breath away, made me pause right before I took Rhys’ lips, but I couldn’t resist for long, something I was damn sure Marcus knew. Maybe I was just a pawn, but if I was, all I could do was experience the pleasures of pawn-dom, right? Rhys’ patience lasted right up until the moment my mouth touched his, and then he took over.

Arms locked around me, ignoring the pain it must’ve caused him, one hungry kiss leading to another.

“We’re gonna talk,” he promised, then kissed me some more. “About us, not fucking Marcus.” More kisses, more. “About us, about a way forward. About a way that we can be together, alpha and omega, Cyn and Rhys. And…” Rhys pulled back slightly, then looked over my shoulder. “And Bren?”

A low strangled groan escaped Bren’s chest, and then he was there with us, kissing me, then kissing Rhys with all that pent-up love he kept under the surface. I watched them kiss with a kind of brutality they saved for each other, confident they could take the beating, able to be free in a way they couldn’t with me, but the gentleness they showed me was no less desperate. That was why this worked, how every single one of us was able to provide the other with a part of what they needed.

Mum had described the smart people at uni as being almost inhuman and lonely, which made me wonder, when we were finally forced to stop and take a breath. Was that Marcus? He was this monolithic figure that cast a long shadow over our lives, and it was hard to tell where his influence began and ended. I pushed that to one side as Bren kissed Rhys so slowly and sensually, my breath froze in my chest.

Fuck Marcus. Fuck his machinations and his manipulations and for making this so much harder than it needed to be. I moved towards my mates and pushed my hands into their hair, which resulted in them pulling away from each other and turning to me.

“No,” I said, confident now to express my wants and needs, “keep kissing. It’s beautiful.”