Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
“Two Omegas? Well, isn’t that something!” my mother says, holding the phone entirely too close to her face. I’m practically looking up her nose when I glance up from chopping fruit. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. How does that even work?”
“We’re not sure,” I tell her as I scoop up the strawberries into a bowl. “But we’re matched to both of them. Honestly, Mom, I’m a bit scared. What if we’re not enough for them?”
“You are more than enough, sweet boy,” she coos, using the term of endearment she’s used since my childhood. “You do not need to worry about that. Just be the Alpha we raised you to be, and all will be well. I cannot wait to meet them.”
I whisk the pancake batter as I look at the freckle on my mother’s cheek that’s shaped like a teardrop. “They’re nowhere close to being ready to meet parents. They didn’t even want to meet us. They went through a lot.”
“Well, I know you will treat them as Omegas are meant to be treated. You will be a shining example for all Alphas.”
My parents are wonderful—a picture-perfect pack.
My mother met one of my pack fathers in South Korea, and they immigrated here after they bonded.
Imagine their surprise when they ended up meeting an already formed pack and realizing they were all meant to be together.
They had growing pains, but they all had one crucial thing in common.
Their belief that Omegas should be cherished, protected, and worshipped, and that Alphas should do whatever possible to protect them from fear and harm.
When I presented as an Alpha, they were thrilled, but it wasn’t a surprise. They had been shaping me into the perfect Alpha since damn near birth, and I’ll die before I let them down.
“Okay, Momma, I gotta run. They’ll be up soon, and I want to have breakfast as a pack.”
“Of course, of course. I love you. We’ll talk soon.”
She hangs up, and silence overtakes the kitchen. I can hear the slight sizzle of bacon in the oven, and smell the coffee that’s brewing.
This is our first breakfast as a pack, and I want it to be perfect. I want to show our Omegas that we can care for them, can support them through anything that arises.
That we know how lucky we are to have them.
Sebastian comes stumbling out of the hallway that leads to the nest, where we all rested after Atlas and Athena went back to sleep. His white-blond hair is a mess; his eyes are barely open. “Bacon and coffee? Charles, you spoil me,” he says, grabbing a mug from our cabinet. “What’s the occasion?”
“We’re a complete pack now,” I remind him. “It’s our first breakfast as a group.”
He slurps the coffee down, not sweetening it or waiting for it to cool. “And you thought feeding two people who have had barely any food in weeks bacon was the right call?”
I wince. “That didn’t cross my mind. Fuck. I need to make something else for them! It’s too fatty. It’ll upset their stomachs. Omegas have sensitive stomachs.”
“Anyone would have a sensitive stomach after not eating for weeks,” Wyatt says, throwing himself onto a stool by the kitchen island. “You’re going to have to remember these two aren’t just any Omegas.”
“Rich of you to offer advice when you’re barely speaking to them,” I lash out. “You’re sitting there quietly while the rest of us are doing the emotional labor of caring for them.”
His lip curls up, clearly about to spit back at me, when a throat clearing loudly draws my attention.
Athena and Atlas enter the kitchen following Harvey like ducklings. As always, they touch one another, their fingers entwined, and their arms pressed against one another. They are always touching, constantly seeking one another out.
“Good morning,” Atlas says thickly. I can see the exhaustion on his features, but he’s pushing through it to be strong for Athena.
He can’t do that. He has to take care of himself, too. He is prioritizing her at his own detriment. That means we’ll have to work twice as hard to ensure he’s well cared for.
“Morning,” Wyatt grunts, burying his face in the cup of coffee Sebastian slid to him.
Athena doesn’t talk. Her eyes are drooping, and her face is gaunt. She looks exhausted.
“Athena,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. “Do you like pancakes?” Pancakes should be easy on their stomachs, right? Better than bacon, at least.
She blinks slowly, her glassy-eyed stare unnerving, as if she’s not aware of where she is at all. She doesn’t answer.
“She’s not in a talkative mood, it seems,” Harvey warns me. I know there’s more to it than that, but I don’t press the issue. I busy myself plating food for everyone, including some bacon for the Omegas, because it would be rude to serve it to everyone else and leave it off their plates.
Atlas guides Athena to a chair at the table, physically helping her into it as if she cannot do the motion herself. I watch them with worry.
She was talking to Harvey in the middle of the night and seemed okay. What’s going on now?
Why does it feel like she’s sleepwalking?
We sit down for our first pack breakfast, and I have to admit that something feels so right that the moment all of us are settled, it feels like a weight is lifted off my chest.
This is what we were waiting for. This is why something always felt a little off in our home.
We were waiting for them.
I want to say something to mark the occasion. To make it clear how much this means to me, and how miraculous it is that we found each other.
Before I can, Athena is crying.
Not soft, quiet tears.
No, she’s full-on sobbing, her body wracked with emotion as she curls in on herself. Her soft skin pinkens, and a strangled whine escapes Atlas as he struggles to calm her.
Instinctively, I purr again, reaching for her and resting my hand on hers.
Almost immediately, she calms, her body slumping in the chair, and a mournful, quiet whine slips from between her lips. Atlas looks at me with tired, desperate eyes. “I don’t know how to help her. Why can’t I help her?” His voice cracks with emotion, and it hurts my chest.
My Omegas are hurting. I have to do something.
Wyatt pushes back from his spot at the table and gathers Atlas into his arms, pinning him to his chest. A loud, nearly violent purr escapes the Alpha, and Atlas’s body goes slack despite his face revealing his desire to protest.
“Because you’re an Omega and you need support too,” he says gruffly. “Sometimes, an Omega needs an Alpha, and you can’t be that for her any more than she can be it for you. It’s not a judgment or a failure. It’s the way our biology is.”
Wyatt’s words pull Atlas out of his relaxed position, and he yanks himself out of Wyatt’s arms and slams himself back into his seat at the table.
“I’m not a fucking Omega,” he snarls, fists clenched.
“I’m a Beta. Always have been, always will be.
I don’t care what they did to me. They can’t change who I am. ”
Am I supposed to let him live in delusion? No one is correcting him. Doesn’t he need to accept what he is now so he can move on with the rest of his life?
I’m about to say as much when Sebastian speaks up.
“Hey man, I get it. Shit is weird, right? Like we were all buds, and now we’re being told by our instincts and pheromones that you’re fated to be with us.
It’s fucking wild. It will take everyone some time to adjust to the way things are now.
If you’d prefer that we don’t call you an Omega, we can do that.
But we can’t pretend that you didn’t go through the same changes Athena did.
We can knock that word right out of our lexicon, but we still need to care for you, okay? You have to let us take care of you.”
Atlas looks like he’s about to protest, though I can’t for the life of me figure out what he finds distasteful about what Sebastian said. Although I disagree with the delivery, he produced a reasonable compromise.
But before the Omega can argue, Harvey speaks up. “Atlas, you’re still you. You’re still everything you were before you went through this. But take it from someone who knows what he’s talking about, okay? You can still be you even if everything has changed.”
“I don’t want this,” Atlas whines, causing Athena to respond with her own.
I get up and move to her side of the table, pulling her against me.
“It was a fucking sting operation. I was supposed to save some Omegas and then get out of there. Instead, my ex knocks me out and carries me to a warehouse of nightmares to have me experimented on. And now I’m…
” He breathes heavily, scrubbing at his eyes as if to stave off tears.
“And now I’m different. Now I’ve got these fucking urges, this part of me that doesn’t feel like me demanding I behave a certain way, do certain things I never would. I feel like someone hijacked my body.”
He crashes his elbows onto the tabletop, burying his face in his hands. “Look, we’ve known each other for a while now. You don’t have to pretend you want this. You guys are great and all, but you weren’t supposed to be my pack. We all know it.”
The words sting, and I struggle to keep my composure.
Neither of my Omegas wants to be here.
Neither of them wants me.
I keep purring, stroking Athena’s soft hair, even though I feel like my chest is cracking open from grief. I bury my emotions, refusing to let my desires get in the way of caring for my Omega.
Because that’s what an Alpha is supposed to do.