Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
“There was a zero percent chance I was going to make it, of course, but I had to try. I mean, c’mon, wouldn’t you have gone to the ends of the earth for a good pair of shoes?”
I laugh with an embarrassing snort at Ethel’s question. “No, I wouldn’t. Well. Maybe. I’d need to see the shoes.”
Her eyes slip closed, and she hums under her breath. “Strappy, gold, with red bottoms. I can show you if we get out of here.”
It’s been four days since I was knocked out and taken. Ethel’s been helping stave off the panic with stories of her life BC - before cage, as she calls it.
I think she has grown tired of my endless questions that she can’t answer, so she’s taken to telling me stories of even the most mundane things. She’s been here longer than I have and has no more of an idea of what they’re doing here than I do.
“Maybe we’re being used to create genetically engineered super soldiers,” I say, circling back to where our conversations always lead. The why behind our capture. “Because we have superior genes and all.”
“Hah! Speak for yourself on the superior genes. I have PCOS.”
“I didn’t know that was genetic. Or something that Omegas went through.”
She quirks her head to the side. “I still have ovaries, Athena. Just because I go through heat instead of a monthly period doesn’t mean I don’t ovulate.”
“Well, when you put it that way.” I feel a little stupid, honestly. I never paid much attention to Omega biology, to be honest. I didn’t have to take any courses on it, only on social dynamics.
After a brief pause, I lean my head against the cage and stare up at the bare ceiling with the exposed ductwork. “Do you know any male Omegas?”
“My dad, remember?” I can hear the smile in her voice. “He’s a great man. We’re very close.”
“Well, that may make my next question weird. How do they not know male Omegas are going to present? I mean… male Betas and Alphas don’t have uteruses.”
She pauses. “I have no idea. I mean, I assumed that the Omega hormones or DNA, or whatever, get activated, which helps them develop a uterus. Honestly, I never talked to my dad about it. We avoided the reproduction stuff.”
I hum and toy with the bottom of my hospital gown. “I’ll have to ask my brother. With his work at the Design Clinic mapping genomes, I bet he’s found the genes that help the uterus grow.”
“That’s a cool job. Are you two close?”
It’s a reasonable question when someone mentions a sibling, but it feels like a hot poker on my skin. I was so fucking angry with him, for no reason other than that he has a life that I want, and the guy I was dating met his Omega at my nephew’s birthday party.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “He’s a lot older than me, so sometimes he babies me and forgets that I am thirty years old and a whole-ass adult, but it comes from a place of love.”
If I close my eyes and disassociate from my body so I don’t feel the metal grates or the biting cold of the concrete, I could maybe pretend we’re on a date, like I met Ethel at a bar and bought her a drink, and we’re getting to know one another.
“What’s your drink of choice?” I ask her.
When I look up, she’s staring at me, with a soft, sad smile on her face. “A cosmo. But I’d lie and say, ‘I’ll have what she’s having,’ so I seem low maintenance. What about you?”
“I’d have picked a cosmo, just so you could have what you really wanted.”
I’m so hot.
Like, I went to a sauna fully clothed after a session of hot yoga.
But I cannot bring myself to untangle from the oppressive heat. Something about it is soothing, smoothing all my frayed edges.
Masculine voices fill the space around me.
“I’m not going to tell you again. I don’t want that,” Atlas says. “Get rid of it.”
A frustrated groan precedes the sound of something soft smacking into a solid. “You need a fucking pillow, Atlas!”
“Not one like that!” When my eyes come back online, I see my bonded Omega standing in front of Charles, his lip curled up. A massive, furry blue pillow lies at his feet.
“You need a nest!”
“What I need is for you to leave me the fuck alone!” Atlas shouts back. “I’ll nest if and when I’m goddamn ready. Did your Alpha training tell you to force one upon an Omega?”
A soft breath caresses my ear, and I finally figure out the source of the heat. I’m wrapped in the arms of one of the Alphas, and if the pale hair on the arm is any indication, it’s Sebastian.
“Do you think either of them will cave? I have ten bucks on Charles ripping one of the pillows open in frustration.”
I pull away a little so I can turn and look at him.
Despite how overheated I am in his arms, I don’t have it in me to scramble out of his lap.
He’s comfortable and handsome, with soft features on a round face, and his bright blue eyes sparkle with mirth.
His lap is incredibly comfortable, made even more so by his fleece pajama pants and ultra-soft hoodie. “How long have they been going at it?”
He jerks his chin towards a pile of nesting material beside Atlas. “A while. Did you sleep?”
I take stock of my body and realize I don’t feel rested at all. But I certainly wasn’t awake. I dreamt of Ethel again. “I… think so?”
“Cool. Do you want to get in on the nesting material debacle? Maybe help me win some money? I’ll split it with you.”
“Who did you even make a bet with?” I ask incredulously. It’s not a bad idea for me to step in, though. I’m part of this, too. When I eye the pile of plush pillows and blankets, I feel a yank in my soul to grab some. But if Atlas doesn’t want a nest…
“Goddess,” he says, making me jerk my head up and lock eyes with him. “Come pick out some nesting material.”
I can practically see his disdain for the process on his lips. He doesn’t want this. “No, it’s fine, really. You’re right, we don’t need a nest.”
Charles huffs and points at me. “See? I told you! You may think I’m being too Alpha, but sometimes that’s what’s needed. Our instincts are there for a reason.”
Atlas’s shoulders slump, and he takes a few steps to cross the nest and kneel in front of me. “I think you should build our nest.”
Something inside me does a little flip in excitement.
“Really?” My fingers itch to touch the material, to see what pairs together best and feels good against my skin.
I don’t want to appear too eager, but the desire to fling myself into the pile and roll around in it is strong.
I want to scrub it against Atlas and get his creamy coconut scent onto it.
“I guess I could pick out a few things.”
His face brightens, and he cups my cheek. “Well, come on, Charles picked out a lot of stuff. You’ve got options.”
“It’s not much,” Charles interjects. “I ordered some generic things to get us by until we can take you shopping. You both need—deserve—so much more.”
I slide out of Sebastian’s arms and walk over to where the pile of nesting materials rests. On the floor is an assortment of blankets and pillows, and I think I see a robe or two buried in there as well. It’s all pastel pink and baby blue.
Not the colors I would have chosen, but the thought was kind. Not everyone would have taken the time to ensure we had things right away.
After selecting a few blankets and pillows, I try to arrange them pleasingly in the nest, but something feels wrong.
I move them around into another configuration, but that one is even worse.
A third try produces similar outcomes.
It’s all wrong.
Before I can stop myself, tears spring into my eyes and travel down my cheeks as I tighten my grip on the satin pillow I’m holding.
“Athena?” Sebastian says softly, wrapping a hand around my ankle from where he still rests sprawled out on the surface of the nest. “You feeling a little overwhelmed?”
Is that what I’m feeling? This aura of wrongness that feels like it’s covering me in molasses?
I can’t answer him.
Something is wrong, and I don’t know what it is.
What if it’s with me?
What if I’m broken?
That’s gotta be what it is.
I’m broken.
“I…” The words get caught in my throat. “I don’t want a nest.”
A pained sound from the other side of the room leaves an ache in my chest. I’ve upset Charles. My Alpha is mad at me.
Of course, I upset him. I’m not a real Omega. He wanted a real Omega. Deserves one.
I can’t even nest.
What kind of Omega am I? Nesting seems like the easiest part of being an Omega, and here I am, failing at it.
“Do you not want a nest, or do you feel like making one is wrong? That you don’t deserve one?
Maybe you think you shouldn’t need a nest.” The handsome, dark-haired Alpha takes a few slow steps toward me, holding a hand out for me.
I take it, and he weaves our fingers together. “You can tell me. I won’t be upset.”
The cynic in me doesn’t believe him. But when I look into his eyes, I can see the authenticity that swims there. His words lift a weight from me, and I suddenly find my feet very interesting. “I don’t know what it is. But it’s not right. It doesn’t feel right.”
Atlas moves to my other side as Sebastian gives my ankle a reassuring squeeze. My bonded Omega runs his hand through his shaggy locks. “Would it feel better if we did it together? Maybe I can take you to Omegamart?”
“We’ll all go,” Charles cuts in. “As a pack. Does that sound good, Athena?”
Sebastian’s thumb is rubbing circles on my ankle, and Charles is still holding my hand. Atlas is pressed up against my side. Between them, whatever dysregulation I was feeling slowly dissipates.
“Yeah, okay,” I agree. “That sounds nice.”