Alpha Shield

Timing - Killian

Knives raked against his skull from the inside out. A combination of the silent tears that had tracked down Abby's silken cheeks and the raging of the chained, caged, fully feral Alpha in his mind made his temples throb and nausea roil in his stomach.

As soon as the words had left his mouth, he'd known they had been a mistake. He wasn't worthy to be her Alpha, but telling her like that should never have happened. With their interactions over the past few weeks, he had forgotten that he couldn't keep her. He'd become lost in some dreamscape where he was just an Alpha with an Omega who called to him. He hadn't thought about how she might perceive their interactions. She would never be his. Could never be his.

Abby had stared at him for a few moments in silence, and he could pinpoint the moment when his hastily spoken words struck her heart. Her delicate chin had wobbled for a second before it lifted with a hint of the strength he knew she carried deep inside. Standing, she brushed nonexistent lint from her skirt.

"Thank -" her voice broke, but she tried to cover it by clearing her throat, "Thank you for your help these past few weeks. I'm sure your squad will be happy to have you back."

Despite her steady voice, those damnable tears rolled down her cheeks. Killian reached out to take her hand, already regretting the obvious pain his hasty words caused, but she'd stepped away from him quickly.

"No." Abby said clearly, without a hint of hesitation. "I don't consent for you to touch me. Someday, I'll give that consent to my Alpha, and you've made it clear that it won't be you."

More tears fell from her eyes, and despite the world around him filling with a red haze and roars from inside his own mind, he could see each of those salty drops like they were lit with beacons.

No! She is mine! Thoughts of Blossom in the arms of some unknown Alpha, images of her laughing at a faceless male, and flashes of her with a rounded belly and a dark-haired toddler in her arms made him want to rage. The Alpha he'd caged in his consciousness began to riot and try to destroy the bars of his mental prison.

Before he'd managed to regain control of his primal fury enough not to reach out and carry her off to his cave, all he could see was her swift retreat down the hallway leading to dining room.

Since then, he'd been pacing back and forth in front of the bay window, trying to rein in his urge to chase after Blossom, kneel at her feet, and beg for forgiveness. The rational, controlled warrior he'd always been knew that he'd made the right choice. He was too old for her. Too controlling. Too dominating. She needed to find her way in the world now that it was opened up to her. To tie her to him before she'd even had a chance to explore the outside world was criminal.

Someday she'd thank him.

The primal beast now living inside him ached and raged for his mate. He was a persistent bastard. Just when Killian thought he was regaining some self-control, the monster would throw himself at the bars over and over. Promises and threats of what he would do when he was free should have chilled Killian to his core, but one thought continued to play on repeat over and over.

She was ours, and I let her go.

Raking a hand through his hair, a shadowy movement from outside in the garden caught his attention. An instinct for battle that he'd developed over his time as a soldier sharpened his senses, and despite a feeling of utter desolation, the raging lunatic in his head became deathly silent.

Stepping to another outward-facing window a few feet away from the bay window, he stood to the side so he could see out into the shadowy garden without being seen. While he'd been fighting his internal war, dusk had fallen, and the garden was covered in darkened shadows from the walls, the building itself, and drooping trees. There were shadows everywhere, but he knew the movement that had caught his eye was out of place.