The omega girl was gently dabbing a wet cloth, dipped in herbal water, against my torn skin. I sat there on the edge of the bed. She helped me dress in a soft cotton dress.
Brianna stood in the corner, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her face drained of all color. She hadn't said a word since they'd brought me back to this room, but I could feel her eyes on me, wide with shock, darting between my face and the injuries that were already beginning to close.
She's terrified, I thought, watching her trembling hands. Of me? Of what happened? Of what's coming?
The omega girl, I still didn't know her name, pressed the cloth a bit too firmly against a particularly deep gash on my forearm, and I winced. She immediately pulled back, her brown eyes apologetic.
"Sorry, Luna," she whispere
