Chapter 8 – June
CHAPTER EIGHT
JUNE
I’ve been slowly migrating closer to Seth as the afternoon grows longer and the light through the windows dims. I’m so tired, and I think he knows because he hasn’t said anything as my head has sunk back on the couch, curled into the soft fabric. It smells like oranges and fudge, but crisp and clean too — like rain and mint.
It’s comforting , and it’s echoed in the way Seth smiles at me, the way Bennett looks over at the couch occasionally, his eyes catching mine. I’m too sleepy to feel self-conscious, but the third time I jolt awake after accidentally nodding off, Seth leans over, his hand sliding over my arm.
“Time for bed, let’s get you upstairs.”
I don’t fight him. I just fall into slow steps with him as we make it up the stairs and in front of the guest room. He leans in and pushes my hair back, his voice soft as he glances to the door across the hall.
“I’m over there if you need anything , okay?” His eyes search my face for a moment, and he must see something he approves of before he steps back. “Do and use whatever you need, the townhouse is yours.”
“Goodnight.” Bennett flashes me a smile before he disappears with Seth.
Slipping into the guest room, I shut the door behind myself only to lean back on it. A tight coil wraps itself around my chest, making my breathing quicken as I try to wrap my head around being here — around what’s happened. Panic rears its ugly head, savoring the fact I’m alone again and creeping up my throat.
On autopilot, I force myself to let go of the door and do tedious tasks; brushing my teeth, checking my phone, and then crawling into the plush bed.
The sheets are cool on my skin, and smell freshly laundered too. Turning my head, I bury it in the pillow, willing my eyes to droop, for the feeling of security and sleepiness to finally win out, but nothing happens.
My heartbeat is loud in my ears as I chew on my lower lip.
It’s just a temporary solution for a lifetime problem, no big deal. I mean, so I’m an omega and a very nice beta and alpha have suddenly taken me in.
At some point in the spiral of thoughts I slide out of the bed and start to pace.
It’s not like it means anything. Bennett said it didn’t. And I trust him. But why do I trust him? Why do I trust either of them so much already? What about the other alphas?
Stopping short, I suck in a breath as I wrack my brain to remember the night of the elevator incident and the two men that waited for Seth and Bennett after we all made it to the rooftop. But the memory is murky, I really only remember the urge to look back at them, not to go with Michaela to the bar.
Shivering, I pull my sweatshirt closer, glancing at the door. One of the alphas is in Paris — Arin, Seth said his name was — but there’s one here and I’ve yet to see him. There has to be a reason for that, right?
Easing the door to the guest room open, I pause, listening to the quiet of the townhouse before I slip out into the hallway. I feel like I’m doing something wrong, but I feel restless, an itching under my skin as I make it to the stairs and turn to continue up to the topmost floor.
There must be a window open because the second my foot touches the top landing, I’m hit with the smell of rain. My eyes run over the decor in the dim light, catching on a small sitting area with a loveseat in front of a picture window overlooking the street below. The road is dappled with rain, cast in a yellow light. Running my hand over the furniture, I sink down onto it, staring out the window, watching the drizzle.
My heart crawls up my throat, sitting on my tongue as I try to get comfortable, sucking in deep, slow breaths. A counselor I saw when I was still in college used to say that breathing was the first step to avoiding a panic attack — she always gave talks before finals, and I quietly took note.
I don’t really remember a time in my life I didn’t feel anxious, where my body didn’t seem to quite fit my skin. My parents have both always been the type to say that the feeling of discomfort is just in my head like that isn’t the root of the issue. I saw a therapist for a while, off and on after I finally moved away from home, but I always felt like such a burden. There are other people in the world dealing with so much worse than me complaining about the fact I feel too nervous to leave the house sometimes.
Regardless of everything I’ve tried through the years to manage the anxiety, I’ve always felt off .
I guess there was a reason all along.
Pulling my knees closer, I rest my chin on them as my throat tightens. My tour is cancelled — there’s no way I can continue to the other stops right now. When my parents finally do reach back out, I have to figure out a way to tell my mother that I’m not only still in London, but in the house of a pack — the very thing she’s adamantly against.
But wouldn’t so many betas kill to be in my position?
For as much as alphas and omegas are the other , the outliers, I know there are so many betas in the world who hope desperately for either the power or the security that comes with being more . But all I feel is trapped — suffocated.
This isn’t what I wanted, none of this has ever been a part of the careful plans I made for myself. I was going to finish my next manuscript and Janet was going to sell it for me. I was going to sign the rest of the film rights over, pocket some money and maybe finally move out of my little apartment — maybe even invest in real furniture instead of hand-me-downs.
Fat tears roll down my cheeks as I reach up and scrub at my face, curling up into myself as I sniffle and suck in breaths, knowing it’s bordering on hyperventilating, but unable to regulate it. I stare at the street, willing it to be enough of a distraction.
There’s no use, I’m going to sit in this strange home and lose it, once again an embarrassment who can’t even function like a normal person.
There’s a soft creak of floorboards and my heart stops.
I jerk, holding my breath as I look around the upper floor.
A man steps out of the left hallway, and I scramble up from the couch, wrapping my arms around myself, conscious of my pajamas.
He’s partially in darkness, but I can still see the way his bare chest jolts with his inhale of a breath. His body goes rigid, and my eyes flicker over his skin, almost entirely covered with tattoos, thick and black against his pale, stocky torso. His stomach is rounded, like mine, but unlike mine, I can see the muscles corded under his skin, layers of muscle and fat working together to scream two things: strength and alpha .
This isn’t Bennett, familiar and strong in a way that oozes kindness. It’s not Seth, approachable and instinctively safe . This stranger is broad, thick, and almost threatening with the way he stands so stock still, like moving to breathe is even a measured motion.
I freeze with him, snared, too scared to back away and too nervous to open my mouth.
After what feels like forever, he speaks in a growl.
“You should go back to bed .”
His voice is dark, deep, and rough . It’s so harsh, like he’s holding himself back from saying something more, but the unspoken words float into my brain. I interrupted him. I upset him .
I flinch toward the stairs, my brain working overtime to process the involuntary movement to follow his order. It’s a bark . He barked at me and I’m powerless to do anything but listen, wavering as I keep my stare on him, my feet edging me toward the stairs.
“ Go .”
The single command is powerful, and I scurry away, back down the stairs as my heart pounds. Confusion and alarm hit me as I comply — I don’t like that I’m suddenly this beholden to a stranger’s request, and I stop at the bottom of the stairs, jerking my head to look up at him.
The alpha is huge , silhouetted above me at the top of the staircase.
“ Go to sleep, little omega .”
My eyes feel heavy as I take a step back, ducking my head and running into my room, slamming the door behind me and locking it. I barely make it into the bed, between the covers before my eyes slip shut.
I wish the light had been brighter upstairs. I wish I’d been able to see him. I wish I remembered his name. I wish I could fight the futile wave of exhaustion as it crashes with the alpha’s command and sweeps me away, forcing my body to sleep, his harsh voice ringing in my ears.