\[Denali’s POV\]
“Denali.”
The warm voice that I haven’t heard in years mixes with a warm, gentle touch on my cheek. Was this a dream? It had to be because she had been dead for years.
“Denali, sweetheart.”
My heart squeezes with longing as I slowly open my eyes and find that she is hovering over me. Her golden eyes, which I haven’t seen in years, still sparkle with the same light they held before she left me.
“Mom?” I whisper.
A smile begins to spread across her beautiful features as she runs her hand along my cheek.
“Yeah,” she responds gently. “You’ve grown so much, my love.”
Of course I have. She was gone for thirteen years. I was no longer the child she left behind with an abusive father. I am a woman now.
“How?” I ask, beginning to take in the area around us.
I’m in my room back in Emerald Room, at least the room I was given before my mother’s passing. It is still set up the exact same way I left it, with the desk covered in books that I studied day in and day out in hopes of becoming the proper heir for my father. And the flowy baby curtains that swayed in the breeze when I opened my windows.
Even the walls were the same shade of pink, my mother painted them with murals of butterflies and flowers.
How was any of this even possible? This room and the woman standing over me, watching me with so much love, were long gone.
“Did I…” I begin when memories of what happened before this start to appear. “Did I die?”
My heart plummets with this thought, but the last thing I remembered was a loud bang and then plummeting into darkness. Wasn't that the only result of my death? And wasn’t where I was proof of that.
“I’m dead, right?”
It seemed I wasn’t going to be able to keep my promise to Rosco. I could only hope that he would find happiness with me gone. Although I was sure that he would since our time together was so short.
“Not dead,” my mother counters.
“I’m not?”
If I wasn’t dead, what was I?
“We don’t have much time,” she continues as I try to make sense of things. “Please, my daughter, you must live your life well. I know that I failed you, but you have to take back what was yours.”
Her words are similar to the words Rosco spoke that day. But was this truly happening, or was it some wishful dream that I was having?
“How can I do that?” I ask, wanting desperately for this to be real. “Dad and Beatrice have control of everything. How am I supposed to take it back?”
“Find the will.”
As the words leave my mother's lips, she begins to fade along with the room around me.
“No!” I gasp. “I haven’t had enough time with you! Please, don’t leave me!”
“I’m sorry, honey,” my mother whispers sadly. “This is where we part. Please, live well.”
“No!” I gasp, shooting up and reaching out, but as my eyes open, she isn’t there, and I’m no longer in that room. Instead, I’m in a hospital room with multiple monitors attached to me, and the soft beeping of those monitors fills my ears. “Mom.”
The word leaves my lips in a whisper as I realize that she is gone and that what I was seeing was nothing more than a dream. But was it a dream, or was it her somehow contacting me?
Sighing, I lean back into the bed I’m lying in and continue to look around until I spot Rosco fast asleep in a chair in the corner of the room. Even from where I sit, he looks exhausted, and I’m sure it is because I’ve once again caused trouble for him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, feeling like a burden. “For everything.”
As the words leave my lips, he stirs, and when his dark eyes open and come to rest on me, he is up and moving.
Gasping, I find myself being pulled into a hug that sends waves of comfort and pain crashing into me at the same time.
Hissing, I try to ignore the fiery burn in my ribs, but before I can try to hide what I’m feeling, Rosco is pulling away, and his face is paling.
“Shit,” he hisses, releasing me. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? Fuck. I should call the doctor.”
With wide eyes, I watch as the usually composed and arrogant man becomes a nervous mess right in front of me, and it was all for me.
“Hey,” I say, reaching out and touching his arm. “I’m fine.”
It’s a lie, but all I want to do is calm his worries. I was sure he went through a lot after what happened to me, and I didn’t want to continue making him anxious.
“Really,” I continue when he gives me a look of disbelief. “I’m fine. I’m here and alive; that is more than enough, but how did I get here?”
I still didn’t know what happened after the floor collapsed beneath me or how it even happened. Was it a complete coincidence, or was it planned?
“What do you remember?” Rosco asks me slowly.
“An explosion,” I respond. “And then a collapse. After that, nothing.”
For a moment, he doesn’t speak as he considers my response, but from his pinched expression, I know that my response isn’t helpful.
“It wasn’t an accident, was it?” I ask slowly, understanding beginning to dawn. “Someone intentionally tried to kill me.”
Just the thought of someone out there waiting in the shadows to try to get rid of me when Rosco wasn’t around left me with an extreme sense of dread, but it also left me more determined than ever. There was clearly a reason for all of this, and the only reason could be that someone was aware of something that scared them.
“Don’t worry,” Rosco says, his voice dripping with determination. “I won’t let anything happen to you, and I will kill every fucking person behind this shit.”
Nodding, I give a small smile. I don’t doubt that he will protect me, but I don’t want that. I wanted to be able to protect myself, but how could I? I was still nothing more than an omega.
“Rosco,” I say, coming to a conclusion. “I want you to teach me self-defense and how to use a gun.”
If I couldn’t beat them with the strength of an alpha, then I would beat them by being strong enough to defend myself.
“You don’t have to do that,” Rosco counters, reaching out and brushing my hair behind my ear. “I will protect you. You just have to..."
“No.” I wasn’t going to just sit back. I was going to be proactive. “I want to be able to defend myself. You can’t be with me every minute of every day, and I need to be able to keep myself safe during those times.”
“Can’t you?” He chuckles, giving me a grin. “It won’t be hard to keep you with me.”
“No,” I sigh. “Please, will you teach me these things? If you don’t agree to it, I’ll just…”
“Find someone else, and I’ll fucking kill them,” he warns.
“Then do you agree?” I ask hopefully.
Growing quiet, I wait as many emotions flash across Rosco's face as he clearly fights an inner battle, and when he finally seems deflated and his face shifts to acceptance, I know that he is going to agree to my plea.
“Alright, but before that, you need to heal properly.”