Page 13 of Unhinged Alphas

I force myself to breathe, to unclench my fists. Even he won't hurt me. None of them will. I believe that now, even if I can't quite bring myself to trust it.

I cross to the door and open it, my chin lifted in a show of defiance I don't quite feel. But I need to make it clear to them that whatever walls eroded between us during my heat are back in place.

More than anything, I need to make it known to myself.

Valek stands on the other side, his cold silver eyes inscrutable as they rake over me. Checking for signs of distress, of injury. He may be a psychopathic killer, but he's still an alpha. Always the protector, even when I don't want his protection.

"Plague wants to see you," he says without preamble. "In the infirmary."

I frown, unease prickling along my spine. "Why?"

A hint of a smirk, a flash of white teeth. "You'll have to ask him that, little omega. I'm only the messenger."

I bristle at the nickname, at the way it makes something in my chest tighten. I'm not his littleanything. I'm nottheirs, no matter what my treacherous body might have said when I was in heat.

But I don't argue. I just nod, once, and step outinto the hallway. Valek falls into step beside me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body, the electric awareness that always seems to hum between us.

I clench my jaw and ignore it, ignore him. I focus on the path ahead, on the twists and turns of the corridors that lead to the infirmary. It's a route I know well by now, one I could walk in my sleep.

Plague is waiting for me when I arrive, his mask firmly in place. He looks up as I enter, nodding.

"Ah, Ivy. Right on time." He pats the examination table, the paper crinkling invitingly. "If you could just hop up there for me, please."

I hesitate, my gaze darting to Valek. He's lounging against the wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Watching, always watching.

Plague seems to sense my unease. "Valek, would you mind giving us a moment? I need to discuss some medical matters with Ivy. Privately."

Valek's eyes narrow, but he pushes off the wall without argument. "Of course, Doc. I'll be right outside if you need me."

The words are casual, almost careless. But I hear the steel beneath them, the promise. He'll be close, ready to intervene at a moment's notice.

Something in my chest twists at the thought, aconfused tangle of emotions I don't care to examine too closely. I look away as he leaves, focusing on Plague as he pats the table again.

"All right, Ivy. Let's take a look at that arm, shall we?"

I perch on the edge of the table, my fingers curling around the crinkly paper. Plague moves closer, his gloved hands gentle as he unwraps the bandage. I keep my gaze fixed on the far wall, trying not to flinch at the touch.

It's clinical, impersonal. Nothing like the way he touched me during my heat, all tender reverence and simmering desire. But even so, I feel the ghost of it—the memory of his hands on my skin, his lips on my throat.

Stop it.

I give myself a mental shake, forcing the thoughts away. That was then. This is now. And now, I am nothing more than a patient to him. A charge to be cared for, a responsibility to be met.

"It's healing well," Plague murmurs, his fingers probing the edges of the wound. "No sign of infection, and the stitches are holding nicely."

"Good," I say, my voice flat. "Can I go now?"

He pauses, his head tilting as he studies me. Even with the mask, I can feel the intensity of hisgaze. "You've been distant lately, Ivy. Withdrawn. More so than usual."

I shrug, the motion pulling at the tender skin of my arm. "I'm fine."

"Are you?" He leans back, his arms crossing over his chest. "Because from where I'm standing, you don't seem fine. You seem... lost."

I flinch at the word, at the way it lands like a blow.

Lost.

Is that what I am to him? A little girl adrift in a world too big and brutal for her to navigate alone? No. I am not lost. I am not weak. And I will not letanyalpha make me forget that.