Chapter 6
Six
Paloma
W hen I emerged from my room, I nearly ran into Rio coming back down the hall. He had a tray of food in his hands, including a big travel mug of what smelled like coffee. He gave me a quick smile. “Go on down the hall. I’m just dropping off breakfast to Llew.”
Llew. The unknown second Alpha in their group. The one who was sick, but they were hesitant with the details. Maybe it was Alpha prerogative to be liars. Betas too.
Rio waited until I was headed down the hall before he continued on. Just before I turned the corner, I couldn’t help but look back over my shoulder. Curiosity had always been my biggest sin, according to Sister Roberta, and she was probably right. Hers had been self-righteousness.
Through the now-open door, I could see the shadow of Rio and another, almost impossibly large silhouette in front of the window. I felt the moment the eyes of the other Alpha saw me, like a caress on my skin. Felt it down to the very atoms of my core.
Scared, I disappeared around the corner, almost running until I made it to the kitchen. Max was there, smiling as he flipped pancakes onto a serving platter. A designated man cooking made my brain fizzle. The Leaders didn’t cook. They didn’t even serve themselves. Not even the Brothers and Sisters cooked; that was the role of the undesignated. But here was Max—who wasn’t an Alpha, granted, but was still a powerful Beta—in a short, frilly apron with what looked like a pair of sequined underwear embroidered on the front. I stared at the apron for longer than was probably polite.
Looking down, he flushed red. “Oh. It was a gift from my sister. She has a weird sense of humor. Come and sit down. Would you like coffee? Juice?”
I looked at the table, then back at Max. “Shouldn’t I… Don’t you want me to serve you?”
Max’s eyes widened in shock, but he quickly chased away the expression. “No, we share all our chores pretty equally here, and you don’t ever have to serve us. You aren’t hired help. We’re big and ugly enough to get our own food. Especially Rio,” he teased with a wink.
“Brat.”
I startled. I hadn’t heard Rio re-enter the room. It was like my whole body was in tune with his every movement. It turned with him as he stalked to the kitchen, making up a plate of food with a little bit of everything. When it was piled unbelievably high, he ushered me gently to a chair.
“Sit.” It was a command, but not a bark. I wasn’t physically compelled to sit, but I still did as I was told. He placed the plate in front of me, and I looked up at him, my brow creasing again as I was at a loss. “You don’t ever serve us, Omega. In this house, Omegas are to be nurtured and cared for. Your needs are paramount. If you want something, you just have to ask.”
I was already shaking my head. It didn’t make sense. “I don’t understand.” I felt like that was the only sentence I could string together anymore.
Sitting down across from me, Max placed a consoling hand on my arm. “I know you don’t, Paloma, but I promise, we can help.” He looked at Rio. “Maybe we should rip it off, like a bandaid.”
Rip what off?
“Paloma, you were a member of an isolationist cult. The year is only 2025, not 2125. I believe your leaders altered things to keep their followers disconnected from society and the world around them. Eventually, when you’re feeling more settled, we’d like your help finding where you came from, so we can stop what happened to you from happening to any other Omegas in your former community.”
They were all words that I understood. Except the word cult. The word sounded wrong, foreign. “Cult?”
Rio looked helplessly at Max, and I got the impression that he was the brains to Rio’s brawn. “A cult is like a religion, I guess, or a system of beliefs, even, but they kind of operate in secrecy and seclusion, and they try to ostracise their members from the outside world.”
Confusion and betrayal flooded my system until a soft whine was bursting from my lips, echoed by Rio’s rumbling growl. Standing, he strode from the room without a word, and I watched him go, pain throbbing through my chest. Was he angry with me? Disgusted?
Max was still watching me. “It’s not you, Omega. He’s struggling to respect your boundaries, especially when you’re in such obvious emotional pain.” He seemed to be chewing over his next words, his eyes dipping down to where my arms were banded tightly around myself. I hadn’t even noticed. “Would you like me to hold you? I’m a Beta—I can’t compel you to do anything, can’t alter anything with my pheromones. But I can console you, if you’ll let me.”
Last night, when OJ had been bustling around, keeping me distracted as her Alpha lifted the compulsion on me, she’d talked about her Omega like it was a separate entity to herself. Her Omega didn’t like these sweats, so I could have them. Her Omega loved the feeling of this fabric or scent or whatever. hadn’t understood why she was talking about it like it was someone else.
Right now, though, I kind of got it. My head thought crawling into the lap of a stranger for comfort was ridiculous, but that urge, the one that sat deep down in my chest, already had me moving toward Max. Had me climbing into his lap, which should’ve been uncoordinated, but was almost instinctual. Much like burying my nose beneath his chin and breathing him in, until the world stopped closing in around me.
Max stroked up and down my back. “I know this is difficult, Paloma. I know you feel like you’re floating around untethered in the world. But I’m— we’re here. Anything you want to do from this point on is entirely up to you. We’ll support you, and so will OJ’s Pack. You have a place here with us for as long as you want it. Until you find your feet, we’ll prop you up.”
The feel of his arms around me, bracketing me in on all sides, settled my nerves more than anything had in so long. I wasn’t sure I would ever move again.
Sighing heavily, Max continued. “But we’ll have to go over what happened, whenever you’re ready. We need to assess what you know, and what you need to know, so you aren’t… taken advantage of in the real world.” The real world. Not the fantasy world I was born and raised in. “I’d like it if you met with a therapist. Do you know what that is?”
He was talking to me like I was a child, and I hated it, but also I understood, because I hadn’t known how a television worked or what a cult was, or probably a million other things.
So I nodded. “I read about the advancements of brain health in a magazine.”
I could feel his shock as he tried to piece together the dichotomy of what I was saying. “You had magazines?”
Nodding, I pressed my face into his chest until my voice was muffled. “From before the apocalypse. Leader Malakai had them in his office. National Geographic. I used to… steal them.” My confession sat between us heavily. Now they knew I was stupid and a thief. Maybe they’d throw me away.
Instead, Max squeezed me, letting out a happy hum. “That’s wonderful, Paloma. So good. You’ll have a foundation to build on. August can help you with the rest. And us too, of course. We can help too.”
“August?”
“He’s a therapist down at the VA. That’s Veterans Affairs—Rio and I are former military.”
From what little I knew about the military, it made sense. They held themselves with the kind of self-assurance that could only be gained through knowing how to kill another person in under a minute.
“When you come back from war, they like for you to talk about what happened, so you can start to heal. I think you’d also benefit from that. Plus, August is an Omega, and he could probably answer your Omega questions better than I could.” There was a slight pink tinge to Max’s cheekbones, and I wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment because he didn’t know something about Omegas, or if it was the thought of this other Omega, August, that was making him flush.
I frowned, pulling back. “Is he your Omega?”
Max spluttered, shaking his head. “Uh, no. He isn’t. He’s just a friend.”
Something about Max’s scent sharpened, but I didn’t know what. Sighing, I let myself relax deeper into his chest. He was right; this contact was comforting. “Okay, I’ll meet with your friend.” I hesitated, but made my request anyway. I wasn’t going to be punished for asking for things here. “Could he come here? I’m not ready to…” I trailed off, because there were so many things I wasn’t ready for. To go back outside. To face how much I didn’t know. To be bombarded with more people.
“WHERE’S MY FUCKING MONEY?!”
The sudden shout made me jerk in Max’s arms, almost leaping off his lap. His arms tightened around me, and he let out a sound that was half put-upon sigh and half chuckle.
“I guess it’s time to introduce you to the loudest member of the family.” Shifting me gently to my feet, he kept hold of my hand and led me to a small room off the living room. Judging by the shelves, it would have been a storage room once upon a time. Now, it housed a giant cage and the biggest bird I’d ever seen in my life. “Paloma, this is?—”
“RUFIOOOOOO!”
Another sigh. “Yep. This is Rufio.” Max moved over to the bird, calmly putting his hand out like he wasn’t going to get torn to shreds by the sharp-tipped beak. “Rufio was one of OJ’s rescue animals. He’s… well, he’s not harmless, and I wouldn’t suggest you handle him until you have more experience with parrots, but he’s an?—”
“African Gray Parrot,” I breathed, stepping closer. I’d read about these birds, about their intelligence and their ability to interact and solve problems. They were highly intelligent. I’d thought they were extinct, much like everything else that wasn’t readily visible inside the walls of the Homestead. “I saw them in a magazine,” I added, as Max watched me closely. The parrot was also watching me, with eyes more intelligent than any creature should be.
Max stroked his head softly. “Rufio, this is Paloma.” Max met my eye and smiled fondly down at the bird. “I’m not sure he’ll be able to master the name Paloma, but he manages curse words like a pro. He was rescued from a crackhouse.” He saw the confusion on my face. “Uh, a place where people sell and take drugs. It means he has a very colorful vocabulary.”
The bird had moved to the end of Max’s arm while he was talking, his whole body leaning toward me. I watched him closely, fascinated and a little scared.
Max lifted him higher. “I think he wants you to scratch his head, but don’t feel like you have to. We can take it very slowly.”
No, I wanted to overcome my fears, and this bird seemed like a safe first step. Reaching up, I mimicked the way Max scratched his head, and all of Rufio’s feathers stood up as he tilted his head closer to my fingers.
Chuckling softly, Max held him closer. “Rufio, you charmer. You like the scratches from the pretty Omega, don’t you?”
The bird jumped suddenly from Max’s arm to mine with a small flap of his large wings. I froze, my eyes going to Max. He didn’t try to get him back, but I could tell he was watching the whole interaction closely. The bird climbed up toward my elbow, where he was definitely close enough to attack my face if he wanted.
“Hey, pretty bird wanna scratch?” the parrot whispered in my direction, but his voice was deep and came out kinda scary. His feathers were all fluffed up, and he looked at me kind of adoringly. “Scratch scratch?” he crooned at me.
Lifting my free hand, I did as he asked, and he turned his head this way and that, until I was getting all the good spots. I stared down at this wonder of nature on my arm.
Max was watching us closely. “He really likes you. He hasn’t taken to anyone so quickly. It took me a week to get him to sit on my arm. He still kind of hates Rio. I think his previous owners were Alpha males and kept him in a small cage.”
I looked down at the bird’s intelligent gray eyes. “We have that in common.”