Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
Playing: Love is a Bitch by Two Feet
“Do you want another beer?” Atlas asks.
I look down at the empty can in my fist, considering it, but my instincts encourage me to quit while I’m ahead. “Thanks, but I think I’m good. Something is telling me this is the last one for the night.”
He cracks a real smile. “Are your instincts feeling… stronger lately?” he asks.
My eyes narrow at him. “Why are you asking me that?”
“No reason.” He looks around to see if anyone else is listening.
We’re at his house, or rather his pack’s house, but no one is paying attention to us in the corner.
Dax is chilling with Kendall and Ciro across the room, and Stacia and Uriah are giggling with each other on the sofa far enough away to not hear us.
Sam, Thatcher, and Kit showed up moments ago but went straight to the kitchen to drop off the stuff they brought.
“It obviously isn’t,” I point out .
“Well,” he starts. “Ciro noticed after we started solidifying ourselves as a pack that he could smell us better than he could before. And my instincts have gotten stronger. Any gut feeling I have about anything, I honor it right away. I don’t even have to think about it anymore. It always works out.”
I scrunch my brows. “Really?”
He nods. “It’s cool. Uriah and Kendall said they feel like their instincts are stronger too, but they claim mine are the strongest they’ve ever been because I’m the prime.” He gives me a sideways glance.
I roll my eyes. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” he laughs. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. I’m not the prime—” I start to say but before I can get it out, there’s a commotion coming in through the front door.
“Rory, please slow down,” I hear Jett say and my hunches are immediately up. The music that’s playing in the room is loud and the TV is even louder, so no one hears them come in but me. I watch as Rory walks into the room, tears streaming down her face. My alpha instantly prepares for battle.
Jett stops her in the doorway and starts to talk to her, trying to calm her down.
There’s a dramatic flair in the movements of her arms but I can tell even from here that she’s sincerely in distress.
From the way it looks, you’d think Jett did something to upset her but I know that’s not true.
I can’t give the exact reasoning as to how I know this, just that it’s innate.
It also reminds me of the time I ran into them after rehearsal. Her eyes show the same anguish as that night, and Jett’s attempt to help her is like having déjà vu.
Despite the amount of scents in the room, I can make out the soured taste of cranberries floating in the air.
I hand my empty beer off to Atlas and start to walk towards them.
Stacia notices the situation, and starts to get up to follow me but I put my hand up.
“It’s okay, Stacia,” I say. She looks like she wants to argue, but I continue.
“Please… let us help her.” She gives me a serious look.
Before I say anything else to convince her, she nods her head and agrees despite looking desperate to help her best friend.
Dax is already with them when I walk up. I didn’t even know he was paying attention, but I should have. He’s always in tune with our omega anytime she’s in the room.
Rory’s eyes meet mine as soon as I join the circle. She seems to breathe out in relief, the tension leaving her as she falls into my arms.
“It’s okay, baby,” I say as I cradle her head into my chest. “Let’s go to the other room, okay? We can talk about whatever’s going on.”
She nods against me and lets me lead her away from the living room as our pack mates follow us. When we find a small den that’s meant to store Stacia’s books, I pray that she and her omega are okay with us commandeering the space.
I sit down on the loveseat and pull Rory into my lap.
To my surprise, she melts into me and her scent sweetens the tiniest bit.
She needs comfort and her omega is seeking it in me .
It’s bittersweet, because I always want the opportunity to show my omega that I can be what she needs, but I’m also angry that someone made her feel this way.
“What happened, baby?” I ask, letting her head fall to the crook of my neck. I look up at Jett, and the fury I feel is reflected back at me through his gaze.
“Our dumbass professor—” he starts to say but a growl emits from his chest. He’s on the verge of freaking out, too. It must have been one tough rehearsal.
“What did he do?” Dax asks, trying to push out his semi-calm cherry scent as much as he can to soothe them .
Jett shakes his head, indicating that he doesn’t even want to repeat it.
“Rory,” I whisper, trying to get her to look at me. “What happened?”
She huffs out a frustrated breath. “He’s just always getting onto me.
Every rehearsal, he and Nicole are always teaming up on me, implying that I’m not soft enough for an omega.
Not demure enough . What the fuck do they know?
I’m the only omega in the entire class and they’re always mentioning it, like I should be grateful that I’m an omega because it’s the only reason why I’m playing Juliet. ”
Dax blanches a bit at the mention of his sister, but doesn’t say anything. He looks over at Jett. “How long has this been going on?”
Jett winces. “The entire time, really. Nicole was always jealous of Rory getting the part, not to mention she’s never really been nice to her from the beginning. But Professor Chapman is another story. He’s just really harsh with his critiques and the way he directs. Unprofessionally so.”
I give him a certain look, one that says ‘Why didn’t you say or do anything about this?’
The look he gives back tells me everything. I have, I’ve tried everything.
I meet Rory’s gaze. The angry tears have stopped but her cheeks are still stained from them. It tears something inside of me to see her this troubled.
“When’s your next rehearsal?” I ask.
“Class is on Friday,” she responds. I nod my head, already formulating a plan. She keeps talking before I can say it out loud. “Do you think Stacia would mind if I just went home? I don’t really feel like staying and socializing anymore. I just want my bed.”
Jett leans forward and wipes some of her hair out of her face. “Of course. You know Stacia doesn’t care about that, she only cares about whether or not you’re happy.”
“I agree. We’ll take you home, okay?” I add on.
She gives a weak smile. “Okay,” she says. “Can you guys… stay with me? We can eat instant ramen and watch It’s Always Sunny .”
“Of course,” I answer, “That sounds perfect, I don’t want to do anything else.”
After Rory explains the situation to Stacia, she’s as understanding as we knew she would be. She practically pushes Rory out of the house herself. We say goodbye to everyone and make our way to Dax’s car.
As I’m driving off, I realize it was a good thing I didn’t have that second beer. Maybe there’s something to that instinct thing after all.
The drama department is a lot quieter than I imagined. There’s beautiful things all over the walls, but the light is a bit dreary and there’s no random musical numbers happening in the hallway. High School Musical definitely lied to us.
It’s been two days since Rory and Jett’s rehearsal and I’m surprised I was able to wait this long.
Their professor’s office hours are at such an odd time, that I even had to skip my human behavior class—which is my favorite class.
The way the brain communicates is fascinating to me.
But I’d rather put this to rest as soon as possible, because seeing Rory in pain is unlike anything I’ve experienced in my entire life.
She deserves to be happy, always. Of course, I know that’s not always going to be possible.
Toxic positivity is a thing and I definitely don’t want Rory to pretend to be happy when she isn’t.
But if I can alleviate some of her stress, talk some fear into this unprofessional twit, then that’s what I’ll do.
The door to his office is open when I get there, though I do see the inscription of ‘Professor Charlie Chapman’ on the door, with drama department written underneath.
I’m happy to be in the right place as a beta with a very obvious toupee and wide set eyes looks up from his desk.
He looks bored as he combs over (pun-intended) the paperwork in front of him.
“Can I help you?” he asks when he realizes I’m not a student of his. He looks at me, noticing my Bensen hockey shirt. “Are you in the wrong place, son?”
I squash down the growl that my alpha tries to push out, immediately annoyed by him. “No, I’m in the right place,” I say, flashing a smile as convincingly as I can. “You’re exactly who I wanted to see, Mr. Chapman.”
“Professor,” he corrects me, deadpanned.
Good, I want him just as annoyed as me. If I have to watch my omega as she cries because her professor is a discriminatory asshole, then he better have some discomfort too.
“ Professor ,” I repeat. “I’m here to talk to you about your unprofessional behavior towards one of your students.”
He blanches. “Excuse me?”
I shut the door of his office and then walk closer to his desk. “Rory Cromwell.”
He looks even more confused than before, but then he gestures towards the seat in front of him. “Please sit.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but no,” I reply because I’m too pissed off to consider it.
“I don’t understand where this is coming from,” he says candidly. “Rory is an incredible actress. She has wonderful potential. What exactly is this about?”
His compliment of her throws me off guard. “It’s about how you make her feel like nothing she does is good enough. It’s about how you gave her the lead role but continue to question every ounce of creativity she puts into her character.”
Professor Chapman doesn’t move a muscle. “I’m a director, I’m supposed to direct her. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“There is something wrong with it when you make her feel like she only got the role because she’s an omega.
When you constantly make biased comments about her designation and how she’s not playing an omega well enough.
How do you think that makes her feel? As an actual omega.
Who knows what an omega is more than her? ”
The coward puts his hands up, like he’s expecting the big mean alpha to hit him. “Oh,” I say. “You don’t know anything about other designations, do you?”
“I beg your pardon,” he says, astounded.
I huff a laugh. “You only know what people think other designations are. Omegas… soft, demure, quiet people. Alphas, big brutes, violent .”
He flinches. “No, I’m not like that.”
“Then why are you constantly trying to get Rory to soften up her character?”
He shakes his head, unable to respond. Maybe he’s still scared of me, or maybe he’s just a coward in confrontation. There’s no way to tell. Still, I sit in the chair across from him and put my bag on the floor.
“Professor Chapman. Rory loves acting. She wants to do well at all facets of it, and your class was meant to help her feel confident in stage acting. But instead, you’re knocking her choices at every turn and you’re being a bully.”
“You have some nerve to come in here and talk to me like this, young man,” he says, finally toughening his resolve. “Who are you anyway? Does Rory even know you’re doing this?”
“I am her alpha,” I sigh, and the declaration makes his eyes widen. It makes me feel some type of way, too, because this is the first time I’ve said it out loud, but I know it more innately than anything else.
Even if she decides she doesn’t want to be my omega, I am her alpha. Always . It’s the most honest thing I can ever be.
“And you may not see what you’re doing is wrong, but it is. I come to you as a courtesy. I bet this conversation would go a lot differently if the dean was involved.” I let the implication linger there, and by the way his eyes snapped open with fury, I’d say he understood it.
“And now you’re threatening me?—”
“Sir, I am simply asking you to be the professional that you’ve agreed to be when you signed up to teach here.
” I stand up and put my bag back on my shoulder.
“Rewire what you know about other designations. Do your research. Not only will your relationships with your students improve, but this might help your career.”
I don’t wait to hear what else he has to say as I turn to leave the office. I’m boiling deep down, and I fear if he says something smart that I may snap and prove him right about alphas after all.