Chapter 8
EIGHT
Our house is scarcely more than a bachelor pad and nowhere near ready for an Omega, much less two. And heavily traumatized ones at that.
This is not an ideal situation. It’s not what I expected to happen when, or rather if, I ever found my scent match.
I type a message to my assistant, letting him know I’m going to be taking a few days off to get them settled. My pack needs me here more than the agency does. Once that’s settled, I pull the Omegamart website back up on my phone.
Wyatt glances at me out of the corner of his eye.
“You don’t think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself?” he drawls. “You haven’t even spoken to them.”
“We’ve known Atlas for years,” I remind him. “So I’m not working blindly on this. And it’s clear the two are a package deal, regardless. I want to ensure we are prepared. Omegas are particular. We need to ensure we’re providing everything they need.”
He groans and takes off his hat before slumping against the counter. “Omegas aren’t a monolith, you should know that. And they’re not just any Omegas. They’re different.”
I don’t need him to tell me how different our Omegas are from all the others.
I’m no fool, and I am not saying all Omegas are the same, but they have specific likes and dislikes that are common because of their designation.
It’s biology. It doesn’t matter how they came to present as Omegas.
The hormones they produce will make them want certain things, and I’m going to make sure that I provide them for my Omegas.
I’m determined to be everything they want in an Alpha. Nothing is more important than being a good Alpha and taking care of my Omegas. They deserve the world, and I’m going to give it to them.
It’s how I was raised.
“Besides,” Wyatt continues, “you’re not even into guys.”
I wrinkle my nose. That is a slight hiccup in the situation. I’ve never been with a man, nor have I ever wanted to. But that doesn’t matter anymore. Scent matches supersede sexual orientation.
“He’s my Omega,” is all I say.
We’ll figure it out from there.
Wyatt doesn’t look convinced, but I don’t let him dwell and change the topic.
“We don’t have any nesting materials. I’ve ordered some basic things to be delivered in a rush, but they need to pick out their own things.
We only have one nest. One of them may want their own space, so we need to be prepared to kick Sebastian out of his office. ”
Wyatt groans but doesn’t respond. It’s fine. I don’t need his input. I’m prepared for this. My mother is an Omega, and she, along with my Alpha parents, has prepared me for the day I bring my Omega home. They’re going to be so happy for us.
Thanks to my parents, I know all the steps to follow. What I need to do to make my Omegas comfortable and happy.
What do they smell like? What scent is home for me?
Nerves wrack my body as I realize I won’t have to wait much longer.
I hear Sebastian’s car pulling into the driveway, and I’m on my feet, rushing to the door so I can hold it open for the two Omegas. Atlas narrows his eyes at me as he passes, Athena pulled tight to his side, and I get the barest hint of what my Omegas smell like.
It’s fresh and clean.
I need more. I need to know exactly what it is.
I trail after them like a lost puppy as Atlas guides Athena into our living room. He’s been here several times, so I’m not surprised he’s taking the lead, but it really should be one of the Alphas helping them both get acclimated to their new home. Welcoming them as members of the pack.
Harvey’s loud bike roars into the driveway right as Wyatt pulls the door closed behind him. Good. Our entire pack is here.
“Can I get you two a drink?” I ask, keeping my voice low so as not to hurt their sensitive ears. “Maybe some hot tea?”
“Water,” Atlas answers for them both. “And some crackers or bread. It’s been a while since they fed us.”
Why didn’t I think about food? I should’ve offered food. How am I already failing at being their Alpha?
After a few moments, I present them with two large glasses of cool water, a plate of soft milk bread, and some saltine crackers. I want to offer them more, but if they haven’t been fed consistently, it may upset their stomachs.
While I’m placing the food on the table in front of them, I catch their scents for the first time. It nearly takes me to my knees.
Snow and pine.
Clean, fresh, and wintery. Like standing on the porch of a secluded cabin in the middle of the woods in the dead of winter. My ideal vacation, the place I’ve always felt most comfortable. Where I can disconnect from the world and exist for a little while without the pressures of daily life.
It’s so soothing, so calming, that I drift closer to them, sinking onto the couch beside where Atlas has Athena halfway on his lap.
“Atlas,” I whisper, my throat clogged with emotion.
I knew it was coming, but nothing prepared me for how breathtaking it feels to scent your match.
I’ve known Atlas for a few years now, and he’s a good man.
An asshole sometimes, for sure, but also smart, thoughtful, and kind.
Would I have picked him for my Omega? Absolutely not.
I only ever pictured myself with a female Omega.
But I can’t help but feel relieved that if I had to match with a male, at least it is him.
Someone I know has a good heart and knows me.
I clear my throat. I can’t acknowledge him and not my other Omega. I know her name, but she doesn’t know me. “Hello, Omega,” I reach my hand out to take hers, pulling it to kiss the back when she places it in mine. “My name is Charles.”
“Athena,” she says hesitantly. “Nice to meet you, Charles.”
She’s so pretty. So fucking pretty. Dark green eyes take up a good portion of her face, and her hair is slightly wavy, even though it’s currently tangled from her captivity.
I’m not trying to be lascivious, but I can’t help but imagine what she would feel like under my hands.
I glimpse her dimpled thighs that stretch out beneath the medical gown she’s wearing and have to bite my tongue to smother a groan.
We need to get her clothes.
I’m on my feet before I can think, running to my room and grabbing a blanket off my bed. They need to be warm and comfortable. Omegas need soft things to feel safe.
The blanket is navy blue and plush, and I drape it across the two Omegas. When they sink into each other and the couch, pulling the blanket around their bodies, everything that makes me an Alpha puffs up with pride.
I provided for them.
I gave them food, water, and now comfort.
Maybe I’ll be okay at this. The oversight of neglecting to offer them food will eventually be forgotten in the face of my nurturing.
“Do I smell like anything to you?” I can’t help but ask when I see Athena pull the blanket closer to her face.
She shakes her head slowly. “No. Why?”
My heart cracks, my breath catches, and I look at my packmates with wide eyes. Knowing that my scent doesn’t remind them of home is a brutal punishment, and I’m not sure what I did to deserve it.
“You two smell like snow and pine,” I mumble. I don’t mumble. I’m not a mumbler. Why am I mumbling? They need a strong Alpha. Strong Alphas don’t mumble. “You’re my scent match.”
“He said the same thing,” she juts her head at Sebastian. “But then he said I didn’t have a smell. You all are going to give me whiplash.”
“This is all very confusing for all of us,” Harvey says in his raspy, smoke-damaged voice as he walks into the room. I didn’t hear the door close, too focused on the Omegas wrapped up on our couch.
The scarred Alpha kneels in front of Athena and places a calloused hand on her knee over the blanket. “Hi, Athena. I’m Harvey. I’m friends with Slime. I’ve even met Jordan a few times. Your family is good people.”
Her eyes brighten at his declaration. Who is this Jordan guy? A growl rumbles in my chest, and Sebastian smacks me in the sternum with an aggressive glare.
Right. I cannot be angry that my Omegas know people.
Even if that person is named Jordan and is close to my Omega.
That’s fine.
It’s fine.
I’m not jealous. That wouldn’t be rational.
“Hi, Harvey,” she whispers.
He sits back on his heels, eyes shining with understanding. He’s so effortlessly Alpha. So dominant and strong. It comes naturally to him, while I feel like I have to force myself to be what is expected of an Alpha.
“I don’t need the full story of what happened to you two.
I know you were there a long time, which is more than enough.
” She nods sadly as she listens to Harvey while adjusting herself more fully onto Atlas’s lap.
“But you were a Beta when you went in there, and you and Atlas are Omegas now. We don’t know what they did or how they did it, but all of us here can scent your pheromones, understand? You get what that means?”
“We can scent each other,” Atlas supplies. “She smells like pineapples.”
“He smells like coconuts.”
Harvey hums, looking over his shoulder at Sebastian, who nods and shuffles out of the room. He returns moments later with his laptop, opening the lid and typing one-handed as he balances it on his stomach, presumably documenting the information they’re trickling out.
“To me, you two smell like campfires and marshmallows,” Harvey says with a broad smile.
“It’s awesome. I have always loved camping.
Making s’mores was the highlight of my childhood.
I like my marshmallows burnt, and then I pull the burned part off, eat it, and put the gooey center on the chocolate.
” He tilts his head to the side. “How do you eat your s’mores? ”
Athena blinks slowly, as if she doesn’t understand the question. Eventually, she chews her lip and answers him. “Barely toasted. You know when the flame barely kisses the outside, and it goes golden? A step below that.”
“But it doesn’t melt the chocolate!” Atlas says incredulously. “Why not eat the chocolate bar on its own in that case?”