21. KATIE
Chapter twenty-one
KATIE
I startle awake. The blast from my dreams too real, too close.
Where am I? I’m dazed, blinking hard to bring my senses into focus.
Come on, Wilder. Focus.
I’m buried under a mountain of blankets. The room is still dim, and the scent of clean laundry and hot coffee floods the room.
The last few days hit me in a rush.
The hike. The thunder clap. The Conservatory. Omegas and… Alphas .
“Loren?” My mouth is dry and I am sure I look like I’ve been hit by a humvee.
Whatever. I was not put on this earth –or any earth– to be a dress up doll always looking perfectly put together. The sooner they lower their expectations, the better.
“Katie?” His voice is a gentle rumble on the other side of the door. “I didn’t want to wake you…” he trails off and I can imagine him awkwardly hovering in the hallway. I’m glad he didn’t just barge in.
Wait, did I even lock the door? There’s no chair propped under the handle. Fuck, my vigilance is slipping.
“I’m awake,” I say. It’s technically true. I stretch and moan. My “nest” is in shambles, my failure from the night before on full display. Some Omega I am.
“Can I come in? I have coffee,” Loren asks
Part of me absolutely does not want to let him in so he can see my destroyed nest –not to mention my sleep rumpled hair.
Jesus, I sound like Layla.
“Enter,” I say with all the authority of a Captain speaking to a trembling Private.
Loren doesn't seem to notice. He’s dressed in a pressed white shirt and deep blue trousers and waistcoat. An honest-to-God forest green waistcoat that’s embroidered with a leaf and vine pattern in golden thread. His sleeves are slightly rolled up his forearms, and I notice several small scars along his right hand.
He holds out a steaming mug of coffee – a rich black drink that is nearly identical to coffee back home, but with a slightly spicy edge. As though they added cinnamon and cloves to the grounds.
Aurelia lectured us that proper coffee is taken black, which all my sisters save Maddie scowled at. I like my coffee as black as midnight, and I reach out my hands greedily for the mug. If being an Omega means men bring me coffee in bed every morning, I could definitely get used to it. At least for as long as we’re here.
I take a tentative sip. It’s hot, but not scalding.
“Perfect.” I sigh happily. “I’m terrible in the mornings before coffee.”
Loren laughs lightly. “Cal and I are the same. We both are… grumpy before coffee. Max though – nothing phases him.”
“Really? Nothing?” I raise my eyebrows.
“Don’t get any ideas,” he teases.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I say, winking over my mug.
Flirting with Loren is so easy. Everything about him is comfortable, familiar. Like I’ve known him my whole life.
“Can I sit?” he asks lightly. I don't stop myself from nodding, then he’s on my bed, in my failed attempt at a nest.
My heart leaps into my throat and I feel as though this fun flirtatious moment has just popped like a balloon.
“Did you sleep okay? I know it can be hard to get a good night’s sleep in a new place.” Loren smiles warmly. He is so close and calm. I remember the way he and Max were able to melt away all the tension in my shoulders last night.
“Yeah, it's okay,” I pick at the blanket, aware that I’m not wearing a bra and my breath must smell like a hellacious combo of stale brandy and coffee since I forgot to brush my teeth. Gross.
I don’t want him to think I’m gross. I don’t want him to think I can’t build a nest. That I’m a defective Omega.
Fuck, what if I am a defective Omega?
Why does it bother me if I am?
My throat tightens. I try to sip my coffee, but my trembling fingers splash the dark liquid onto my clean white sheets.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” I scramble back, trying to set the coffee down as though it was suddenly poison. It's all too much, Loren here in my space, seeing me so unmade. I need him to get out.
“Hey, hey, it's fine. All of this can be washed. It’s fine.” He reaches forward and strokes my arm.
My skin sings where he touches me. My racing heart starts to calm, as though resetting to match his own calmer pace.
“Thanks, I’m just overwhelmed. I… I don’t really know how to do this whole Omega thing.” I do not need to tell him any of this. This isn’t his problem, and there’s nothing he can do anyway. I need to shut my mouth and send him away.
“I can’t imagine how hard that is.” His blue eyes hold no guile. He runs another finger up my arm and I shiver. Desire yawns deep in my belly, and I have the strangest urge to lay face down on the bed and wave my ass in his face. Jesus, these hormones are weird.
“I just… I’m behind the curve. I don’t know any of the protocol. I can’t even build a fucking nest. That’s Omega 101, right? But I don’t know how to do it. It’s like trying to swim with one arm behind my back.”
Why can’t I stop talking? It’s like I have to purge everything out of me in word form.
Loren scoots closer on the bed, gently rubbing my arms. I shouldn’t allow him this close. But it feels so damn good . All my ping-ponging emotions calm down the more he touches me.
“You are like a fucking Xanax,” I say, and sigh.
“Xanax?” He raises an eyebrow. Ah, so they don’t have that here. Good to know.
“It’s medicine that helps people calm down.”
“Do you use it often?”
“No. Usually I am the queen of calm. But all of that has evaporated since I came here and the Omega gene has rewritten all my emotions. It’s like being a teenager all over again, except this time I realize how insane it’s making me.”
Loren rubs a light circle on my back. When did he move this close?
“Well, I can’t really help explain Omega biology, that’s outside of my specialty. But, what do you want to know about our world, Amaata? Or our nation, Savolinna? I’m a historian and folklorist, you know. Ask any question you want. I at least can give you both your arms back for swimming.”
He leans in, and my pulse ratchets up. I’m not ready for kissing. I’m not ready for more closeness.
But he only rests his forehead against mine, his hair flopping like a fringe of curtain just beside our eyes.
“Katie, my sola majora , I’ll tell you anything you want to know. All you ever have to do is ask.”
I swallow and nod. Tension leaks out of me, replaced by a steadying calm and the scent of fresh laundry and books. I inhale deeply, and the calm spreads.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to kiss him.
But he pulls back, trailing his fingers down my arm to my open palm.
“Hungry? Max is on breakfast duty today and he makes an excellent frittata.”
My stomach rumbles before I can say a word and Loren laughs, like a cheerful tinkle of bells. Damn, this man is getting under my skin.
“Sure.”
I crawl out of my covers and Loren reaches for my hand. My first instinct is to pull away – I can walk myself, thank you very much.
But another, equally powerful instinct forces that reaction down, allowing me to squeeze tightly to Loren’s fingers as he walks beside me to the kitchen. Fine, this will help me gain his trust –and his allyship. Maybe we can find a way home –and he’s the exact right person to help me find it.
He smiles at me, rubbing his thumb lightly over my knuckles.
I could really learn to like this one.
And that is entirely too dangerous.