Chapter 15
Fifteen
Vivian
I've mastered the art of enjoying myself out in public when I'm in the right mindset.
There's a perfect sweet spot between existing in my subconscious to lean on my bonds for support and interacting with the outside world enough to enjoy the time out.
I might feel less inclined to hide away in my mind if I didn't have anxiety—social anxiety specifically.
Honestly, I just don't understand the point of small talk or trying to make people feel better about themselves.
Of course I still have manners, but no, I'm not going to tell you how fucking long it took to grow my hair to my ass. Also, me being selectively mute is not up for discussion.
I truly cannot stand when strangers make it all about themselves.
They fall all over themselves to apologize after they assume I'll respond like a normal person.
When I don't, they automatically pity me and turn it into an awkward encounter where they wait for me to make them feel more comfortable around me.
Normally I just walk away when their eyes widen in realization. Sometimes, frequently actually, people get mad. I've been called many names when I can't force any words out. Stuck up bitch is the big one.
That one I don't understand. Normally I'm in a simple pair of jeans and one of my alpha's sweatshirts. I never wear makeup or act spoiled. Just my silence is enough to really twist people up or fall all over themselves with guilt.
Ugh.
Silas and Kade make it bearable though. Fun even. Silas talks enough for the both of us as we browse all the food options. He makes me snort a few times when he bothers Kade, and it's a nice reprieve from the lingering looks of other alphas.
One thing we were taught in grade school and at the designation university we went to is that no matter if you're a packed up or a solo omega, you'll always draw attention.
It's normal biology and society’s way of revolving around the more vulnerable designation.
The system is designed for safety, except the world isn't a safe place and there are too many people who prey on the vulnerable.
Not weak. Vulnerable. Our scents, smaller forms, stupid heat cycles, and natural inclination to listen to an alpha makes us vulnerable. But, pay attention, omegas are not weak. Especially when we're mad. You think an alpha is scary…goodness help those who ever encounter a feral omega.
My eyes bounce around the store and find a sign hanging from the ceiling that reminds me I need more slick pads. I ran out yesterday. As much as my men hate me soaking it up just to throw it out, I refuse to sit in sloppy underwear constantly.
It's only sexy if they're around to enjoy it.
Tugging on Kade's sleeve, I point to the aisle. He nods silently and follows. Unfortunately as we come up on the aisle, three young omegas stiffen and shy away from my men.
I force myself to sigh in silence. Turning around, I pat Kade's chest and shoo him away. His frown warms my heart and he eventually nods, guiding Silas away as he mentions something about an ingredient they forgot.
Sucking in a breath, I turn back to the aisle, feeling sad when I see the male omega trying his best to shield the two girls. It takes a bit too much effort to be normal, but I manage a small smile as I pass by them.
We're near the door, a strategic maneuver by the store to allow this aisle some extra airflow.
It's all omega products, so I respect the layout concept, but it's also a bad safety call to make.
Maybe? Or it gives us a good escape if need be.
Interesting, I'll have to ask Jarek about it; layouts and strategy are his wheelhouse.
My chest hums, and it feels like the right side of my head vibrates a little. I frown, pausing mid reach for the box of pads. Automatically, I shift further into my subconscious and almost choke when I realize the red tether is so close it looks huge and...and...angry.
Glancing around, I find it's still just me and the three others who are nervously reading the back of every single box. I don't see any sign of Kade or Silas which only heightens the itching in my heels to figure this out once and for all.
I haven't been fair to my pack. Barely talking, hardly eating, pulling away, and thinking too hard—I've made things difficult for them. Maybe if I can actually reach this entity, I'll be better. I could feel better and put it behind me.
Mind made up, I straighten my spine and duck around the other side of the aisle closest to the door. The further I go, the more my eyes blur and I slip into my head. Consciously, I realize how risky this is, but there is no stopping me.
My omega side leaps in my chest and nudges me forward, screeching about the inevitability of this moment. I'm meant to chase this, but I'm not so sure I'm supposed to do it alone.
The last thing I physically feel is the warm sun hitting my face and hands before I'm completely sucked into the angry vibrations. I'm calm, though. At ease with this turn of events as my hindbrain drives me onward.
Inevitable. My pack doesn't know anything has changed because this has been my course all along.
There it is. Humming and buzzing a few feet away. My vision warps and clears enough for me to see the man who has done nothing but torment me with his unwanted presence.
Over a foot taller than me, with black and wavy slicked back hair and a strong clean-shaven jaw, he looks pissed.
If I could speak, I would tell him to get in line.
His scent, all earthy and metallic static, is intriguing but he's not mine. There’s no immediate indication that he’s my mate.
At least I don't think so. But why would the pull to him be this strong if he wasn’t?
I feel my head cock, but I'm losing myself in his wide golden gaze. He looks at me and I buzz in tune with his tether. Does he feel me too? There's no recognition or awe...just a what the fuck kind of glare.
He's in my bond, he smells like he could be a scent match, but there's no immediate MINE recognition. At least on my end. Judging by the rage on his handsome face, it's mutual.
Then, he lunges at me.