10. Sarah
I’ve had plenty of time to check in on Lily at the hospital in the last few weeks.
Adam hasn’t left her side since she was assaulted, and I’m worried about both of them.
That’s why they never showed up to the mixer.
I don’t know if I even noticed it at the time.
I was so wrapped up in John and meeting my first scent match…
but I should have realized something was up.
Adam left my room after helping me to get ready and then just disappeared.
That’s not normal, and I’m still kicking myself for not being there when they needed me.
If I could get my hands on those fucking alphas, I’d destroy them…
I don’t know, maybe take some notes from the old Grimm’s fairy tale stuff and cut strips of skin out of their backs, salt them, and throw them in a pit of snakes.
Fairy tales used to be really brutal…I’ll need to see if I can find copies of those books again and re-read them to plan new revenge ideas.
Thinking of John brings a deeper pang to my chest. He’s my scent match, my alpha, and in the last few weeks I’ve only seen him once.
If I didn’t know he was mine, I’d be worried.
But fate knows best, right? If some higher power picked this alpha out for me, then he must be mine.
It’s strange that he didn’t bring his pack when he came to see me either; maybe they were working.
I don’t really know what they do. He said his family owns a pharmaceutical company, so I figure he works there.
If he’s high up, maybe he just has trouble getting time off to visit?
Regardless, Greg has been staying with me for most of the time.
It’s technically under Doctor Terra’s orders.
She’s worried I’ll get sick again if he’s not around, but it’s not exactly a hardship having him nearby.
Still, John did look upset when my big beta stood close while we were meeting earlier, so that’s something he’ll have to learn to deal with.
I’ve already decided that Greg belongs to me, and anybody else who wants me has to take him too.
I’m not really sure what his opinion is on that, but it’s too late now.
I licked him, he’s mine. That logic normally only applies to cookies, but I’m going to use it anyway.
My beta’s sitting behind me on what is now our shared couch as we watch Shaggy hop around the floor, getting his wiggles out.
We’ve been discussing what to do for Christmas for the last three days.
He doesn’t want to go visit his family—I wouldn’t be able to come due to being an unbonded omega anyway—and I’m not sure if I’m ready to introduce him to all of mine yet.
That way lies madness, and I don’t want to scare him off.
Maybe it could work if he meets them all at separate times in small groups.
But all my brothers’ and sisters’ packs will be there, as well as my parents and probably my tios with their families.
We normally all congregate at my abuelo’s place.
Mamá is the youngest of six siblings; she has five brothers, who are a mix of alphas and betas.
I’m not exactly a middle child with three older alpha brothers, two older omega sisters, and one younger alpha sister.
All of them but my baby sis have packs and kids already.
And as much as I love my mom, I don’t think Greg is ready to be asked how soon we’re going to settle down and give her more grandbabies.
And isn’t that question a kick in the teeth?
She knows about my PMOS—we don’t even know if I can have kids.
Still, I don’t want to be away from Greg.
It’s not just that I feel better physically with him close by, I enjoy spending time together.
Plus, even though it’s only been a month, we’ve already gotten into a nice routine.
We get up, have breakfast in the commons or cold cereal here, and then I head off to class while he takes care of…
well, whatever it is he does for work. He says it’s mostly being on call and moving heavy objects.
Then he brings me lunch so we can let Shaggy have extra free time before I have to get back to classes and my gym time and he has to get back to work.
After dinner, we cuddle on the couch and watch movies, even though he keeps trying to tempt me with popcorn, I don’t need the extra carbs.
Some evenings, he practices guitar while I spend quality time with the resident fluffball.
Then he sings me to sleep. It’s not a purr, but it’s very him, and I love it.
On the weekends, we spend more time at the gym.
He can lift more than me, because guys naturally have more upper body strength.
But I own his ass on squats. We’re working on his endurance for both of our benefits.
Despite how long he’s worked here, I don’t think he realized how high omega sex drives are.
Poor baby. I’m gonna have to get him some vitamins and stock up on Gatorade.
MWA HA HA HA!
I’m drawn out of my maniacal musings by his chin resting on top of my head. “I lost you there for a minute, Shortcake. What’s wrong?” My brow creases in a frown at the nickname. I don’t have nicknames…other than from Teddy, and I can’t hold it against him since I call him Thicc.
My breath comes out in a long sigh as I settle back against his warm chest. “Nothing’s…
wrong, exactly. I just. My family can be…
a lot. Like, a lot lot. I don’t want them to scare you off.
They’re going to be expecting me, because holidays are a huge deal with them.
Plus, we’re pretty local; we could drive there in just a few hours.
But I don’t want them to scare you off…not that I’d let you go, you’re mine.
Mom will ask again when I’m going to settle down with a pack and have kids.
And probably lovingly berate me for my life choices. I know she means well, but I’m just….”
My voice trails off as his arms wrap around me, holding me close and humming into my hair.
“We don’t have to go. We can stay here. I know they like everybody to leave for the holidays, but we can use the dorm kitchen, make a little holiday meal for ourselves.
If it clears out enough, maybe take Shaggbutt’s playpen outside for some fresh air.
Sound good?” He rubs his lips over the top of my head, finally leaving a smacking kiss before pulling away and turning my face so he can meet my eyes.
“If you want to go, we’ll go. If you don’t want to, I’ll help you think up some excuse to keep you here.
But I’ll be happy wherever you are, so don’t worry about me. ”
It seems too soon to be in love with this guy, but I’m already there.
He smells like mine, Shaggbutt grudgingly accepts his presence, and he is the sweetest man I’ve ever met in my life.
Which ok, since I presented as an omega that’s mostly been my family, and the beta guards here at the center. But, still, that’s not the point.
This man is the chillest person I’ve met, and he’s completely fine with all my strange eccentricities.
Like playing drums when I get stressed or nesting and re-nesting when I can’t get the sheets just right after laundry day.
He even took over when I was late one night and cleaned out Shaggy’s poop box.
My brain was just scattered from studying for tests, and I came home in a panic to find that he had already picked up dinner and Shaggy was giving little happy honks as he bounced around the room to poor Greg cleaning up his turds.
Gross, but the man would be a keeper even if I wasn’t an omega.
He would be such a good dad.
I bet I wouldn’t even need to ask him to help me with diapers and middle-of-the-night feedings. Unlike two of Shelly’s mates that she had to have a come-to-Jesus moment with, because they said that dirty diapers weren’t an alpha’s job. Not that that wasn’t hilarious to see.
I wonder how her little ones are doing, anyway.
I miss them, especially Arya, the little demon.
I can’t believe her mom didn’t even look that one up when I suggested it.
It was just, “Oh, that’s so pretty!” until she finally figured it out six months later and then, “I can’t believe you let me name my daughter after a serial killer in a TV show!
” She wasn’t a serial killer; she was a badass assassin in a book and TV show.
Not my fault you can’t use fucking Google.
This train of thought leads to depressing shit I don’t want to deal with, so I squeeze the arms wrapped around me and turn my head to nuzzle my face into Greg’s jaw, scent-marking him and comforting myself in the process.
“Yeah…I want to do that. Just the two of us here…and Shaggy. But Mamá would lose her shit. Christmas is her holiday. If I don’t show up, I’ll never hear the end of it.
It’s going to suck, regardless, but at least I’ll have you there. ”
In truth, the idea of going makes me want to cry. I love my parents, and I love my family, but they are kind of well-meaning assholes. They think that being related means they can run roughshod over me and any “advice” is supposed to be helpful. It’s not.
Sometimes it’s just depressing. All my siblings have packs and kids.
All my tios have packs or mates and kids.
We don’t even know if I can have kids because my heats are so sporadic and crazy, and I don’t want to be around all the happy families and their babies and be asked, again, why I don’t have them.
It makes me feel fucking broken, like I’m not a real omega.
Greg pulls me up onto his thigh, turning my whole body sideways across his legs so he can kiss me on the forehead and press his face against mine.
“Come on, you look more like this is a trip to the gallows than to see your family. If it’s about me, I’ll be fine.
But it’s not about me, is it? You know, I can screen your calls for the next two months if you need me to.
If it means you don’t have to deal with any bullshit, I’m fine with that. ”
He’s bitten his tongue more times than I can count when Mamá has called lately.
She likes to check in a few times a week, and that’s fine…
but all she wants to do is talk about her grandkids, as if that doesn’t feel like having a knife stabbed in my damned chest every time.
Then she always ends the call asking how I’m doing, but has something come up before I can answer.
Fuck me, it’s depressingly predictable. Even now, Greg knows that when my phone rings, to bring me a pack of cookies within three minutes.
Seriously, my ass is gonna be fucking huge with his constant need to help me feel better.
The bad thing is, I know she does it because she loves me…
at least I think that’s the reason. Parents are supposed to, and I don’t know why she would want to talk so much if it was something else.
Honestly, sometimes after she calls, I just want to curl up and cry.
I didn’t notice as much before Greg was here, because it didn’t seem to matter.
But now he’s going to get dragged into it all, and he might see just how broken I am.
Him offering to screen her calls and bring her wrath down on his own head is one of the reasons I love him.
Yeah, there, I’ll admit it. It’s been less than a month—he already lives with me, and even his “annoying” habits like brushing his teeth in the shower aren’t that bad.
Our lives are almost completely in sync.
We both want a family—one day—a place to settle down for ourselves, maybe doing something involving music or maybe animals.
I never really thought about what I wanted to do with my life. My parents just told me I had to go to college and get a degree because none of them did. Well, congratulations. I’ve been at this damned center long enough to have four degrees, not that I ever bothered graduating.
I keep changing my major, looking for something that feels right—and avoiding graduating keeps me from having to move back home and accept a pack my parents set me up with.
Omega Studies are boring, though. Whoever said you were supposed to have a plan for your life by the time you hit twenty and decided on a major was nuts.
I’ll be thirty in another year and I still have no idea what the hell to do with myself.
Too bad I can’t make a career taking care of Shaggbutt and drumming.
I’d be set. Hell, working out—I could do that for a living.
But no, my family are traditionalists. Omegas are supposed to join packs, and while getting a degree is important, it’s supposed to be more symbolic than actually useful.
Something I can say I did, and then maybe use to help take care of my pack and family.
Like Culinary Arts or Finance or Child Development.
In other words, service to others. I don’t want to be a bitch or anything, but service isn’t exactly my strong suit.
In fact, not telling people to fuck off when they annoy me isn’t exactly my strong suit either.
Greg waits patiently for my answer, continuing to hold me and hum against my hair.
Fuck me, I don’t want to do this. “No, no. We can…We’ll go see my family for the holiday.
It’s not far, and it means you don’t have to cover for me.
Which I really appreciate you offering. Truly.
But you’re stuck with me, so by extension, you’re stuck with them.
It’s just better if they don’t start off by blaming you for my not going home for the holiday. ”
“Alrighty, Shortcake, you’re the boss.” His body rocks back and forth, lulling me into a half-sleep before I can protest the nickname…again.