Chapter 14 – Zale
Chapter Fourteen
Zale
I t’s not like I was particularly eager to work on our project, more than I didn’t know what else I could offer to make him spend time with me. Once again, Millie‘s call interrupted what felt like a moment between us. And while I was worried about Evans, I also knew that his parents had enough pull and power that he wouldn’t be sitting in a cell for long. It would be just another one of his drunken antics that we’d laugh about in a couple of weeks from now.
I realized what a shitty person this whole situation was turning me into when Millie said the flight was delayed, and all I could think about was the extra time it bought me. Time where I didn’t have to confront our crumbling relationship. Time where I could try to understand Shiloh a little bit more. What made him tick? What thread wove the tapestry of his being?
It also gave me the chance to pry a little into his private life. Everyone knew the rumors surrounding him, but he didn’t quite match the vibes. He wasn’t outgoing enough to be falling in and out of bed with every alpha or beta who looked his way. Shiloh was closed off as they came. He was like a maximum-security prison, with barbed wire scarecrows out the front for good measure.
Which made me curious about his roommate Bell. Maybe the rumor had it wrong, and it was omega lovers he preferred. After all, every time I saw the two of them around campus, they always looked very close and Bell was constantly putting their hands on Shiloh at every opportunity.
But then again, Bell was always seen with various partners. It wouldn’t entirely surprise me if they had an open or casual relationship, perhaps?
I couldn’t imagine being in a casual relationship with Shiloh because if he was mine, then he was mine. I would own every inch of him, and make sure everyone else knew it too. Shaking my head, I reign in my alpha impulses.
While Shiloh goes to grab his laptop from his bedroom, I go get mine and my notes, using the time to collect myself. This morning was a real eye-opener.
For one, I was now 100% sure that I was attracted to Shiloh. There was no denying that twisted fact any longer. Seeing his pale soft skin, flushed and rosy with need, had hit me like a slap to the face or punch to the gut. I had a visceral reaction to seeing him naked and covering the sheets in cum.
While it might not have been my knot that made him come, I wanted it to be. It had taken everything in me just to remain rooted to the spot. If he hadn’t been embarrassed and strong enough to put those boundaries in place by asking me to leave, then I would have been naked and in that bed with him quicker than you could snap your fingers. That’s how deep I was under this spell.
When he eventually came downstairs, the awkwardness between us morphed into teasing and I saw a glimpse of the real Shiloh beneath the prickly exterior. He was an armadillo, hiding all the soft fleshy bits underneath the hard armor that he built up trying to protect himself from people like Sadie and people like me who just stood by and let it happen. I should’ve intervened or said something sooner.
When we’re back in the lounge, I pull out the firelighters and get the fire going again. Shiloh chuckles, trying to dissuade me by using the perfectly logical argument that it’s daylight and we don’t need the fire. Clearly, he underestimates the draw of lighting a fire. With my pyromaniac side soothed, I spread my notes out on the coffee table.
“You’re really making yourself at home, aren’t you.” He watches me with amusement as he stands with his arms crossed. Today he was wearing a burgundy jumper and a pair of black sweatpants. His hair is half tied up, and for the first time, I notice that his ears are pierced with little hoops and gold stars. He has one small hoop on the right side, and one on the right followed by two stars on the left, running up the lobe. There’s a large plaster on his neck, almost where a Claiming bite might go if he were an omega. He’s not bothered with his pretend glasses and in all honesty, the relaxed look works for him.
“I might have to use my trust fund and sell a kidney or two to buy this place from your parents,” I tease as he finally takes a seat on the thick cream rug and places his laptop down on the coffee table.
“Shame you won’t be able to enjoy it.” He scoffs, looking up at me with intense green eyes, flecked through with gold. “Y’know, since you’ll be dead. Kidneys are kind of vital.”
I get up and grab a couple of bags of chips and a pack of Twizzlers from the snack cupboard, placing them down near our work. “Hmmm what else can I sell? How much is my spleen worth?”
“Offer the whole package.” He shrugs, the corner of his mouth lifting into the ghost of a smile. He may pretend to find me exasperating, but there were times when he liked it. I know he did. “The ‘alpha experience’. I’m sure a few older, lonelier omegas or betas might pay a pretty penny to spend the night with you.”
“Would you?” I press, keen to hear his answer as I lean in and pretend to look at something on his laptop screen.
“I haven’t had to resort to paying for company just yet. I’m not that desperate.” The tips of his ears turn pink, but he makes another little derisive noise. “Now, it's time to focus.
I’m not entirely sure why I brought the work with me this weekend. Maybe I thought I could use it as a distraction or a way to fill the awkward moments I was anticipating with Millie—but I’m glad I did.
Shiloh looks over some of my notes before nodding his head, looking impressed. “I didn’t think you were this dedicated to your degree, but I’m a big enough person to admit that I may have misjudged you.”
He thought I was just another footballer who only cared about omegas, beer and ball, as if my life was that simple. “I promised my parents a 4.0 GPA in exchange for playing football.”
He seems surprised as he glances at me with his eyes narrowed. “That’s high stakes promise for a jock.”
“Tell me about it.” With him sitting almost beneath me on the floor, I realize that if I lean in a little, I can pick up faint traces of the shampoo he uses, the sweet notes clinging to him.
“What’s this? Don’t tell me primo alpha, Zale Blackwood’s life isn’t all rainbows and unicorns.” He does this whole faux outraged routine, covering his mouth with a hand, aghast. “Don’t you shit glitter and rub shoulders with the elite? I thought you hung the moon over at Blackwood Tech.”
The whole schtick makes me laugh, as I playfully nudge my knee against his shoulder. “Being me comes with its own set of challenges, you know.”
Shiloh arches a brow, “Boo-hoo. Doesn’t everybody have challenges?”
Shit. Yeah. I almost forgot about the bullying for a moment. I forgot about Millie and the others too. We were just Zale and Shiloh, talking. Laughing. Being normal.
Running my hand through my hair, I lean back and sigh. “I know I get it. I’m being a spoiled brat.”
I knew that I was lucky in so many ways. But every time I tried to focus on the positives, I started thinking about the prices I paid for the image I projected.
So, yes, I had a great job to walk into—but it wasn’t a career I wanted and I had no choice.
And yes, I played ball—but I was burning myself out trying to keep up my grades so I could keep being on the team.
What’s more, I was lucky to be surrounded with friends—but there was only one I could actually be myself around, because I needed to uphold the Blackwood legacy.
In addition to all of that, I was an alpha, dating one of the omega beauties of the campus—but I wanted a beta, who I would never be allowed to be with.
Everything came with a condition or a cost. Every move had to be a calculated risk, and the only things in my life that had thrown that off balance had been the Vos twins. First Millie and the night we met, and now Shiloh, with his fuckable smart mouth.
As if he knows he’s hit a nerve, Shiloh nudges me back with a soft sigh. I want to bottle that noise, keep it close, listen to it late at night beneath the sheets. “No, I was being unfair. I don’t think any of us really understand what someone else’s life can look like.”
That’s true. We all had battles we were facing, and we all wore the scars, some of us just wore them more proudly than others. I reach for the bag of Twizzlers and tear them open, offering him one before I start chewing on mine.
“Do you ever feel like no matter what you do? It will never be good enough?” I look around this home, the one his parents carefully built around him and Millie and I wonder if they realize how lucky they are to have this. I bet they could never disappoint Samuel or Rachel, unlike me and my fathers.
“Isn’t that a universal experience for anyone under the age of 30?” He tries to joke, but after a moment or two he goes quiet, like he’s thinking about it. There’s an expression on his face as if he wants to admit something but instead his lips press tight together, creating a firm line.
“I don’t know how to answer you without sounding bitter,” he admits. “You’ve seen how the others treat me for being different. For being a beta. For having a beautiful twin. For having no friends or too many lovers. For anything, really.”
I was slowly picking up pieces here and there about Shiloh, and I was starting to get the impression that he put his sister on a pedestal. Everything was always framed around her attributes or successes. Didn’t he realize he was beautiful too? Didn’t he realize that he was incredibly smart, with a dry sense of humor and a wicked smile that could bring someone to their knees?
I wanted to strip away the negativities he wrapped himself in, peel them back one by one and replace them with reverent words of praise. Tell him all the things he would never tell himself, because he deserved better than how he treated himself.
“I should have said something, put a stop to it.” I whisper, feeling awful that it had taken me this long to grow a spine. “The next time someone even looks at you like they might say something hurtful—I’m going to stop it.”
“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Zale. That’s not where I’m going with this.” I know he doesn’t. He’s more than capable of standing up for himself, and I’d seen him do it on more than one occasion. That was beside the point.
“One day, I’m going to be somebody who makes a difference, no matter how small it may be.” He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arm around them. “I’m planning on using my degree to support the advancement of omega rights.”
I wasn’t entirely surprised. Of course he’d want to support people like his sister and Bell. There’s a warming sensation low in my stomach as I realized how much we are alike. Volunteering at the Riverview Community Center gave me a chance to give back, and support the kids who might not have the opportunity to play ball otherwise. It didn’t matter what their secondary gender was, the community center worked hard to remove that barrier to their passions. Making a difference, wherever we can was something we were both passionate about.
“I can understand that. Trust me.”
He takes a bite of his Twizzlers, chewing on it while he twists the remainder between his long fingers. “I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you. We are strangers. And your connection to my sister isn't a connection to me.”
Ouch. That stings.
We’re not strangers, I think to myself. I’ve seen you naked and shooting cum all over yourself. “No, That’s a fair point but we have grown closer the last couple of weeks. Gotten to know one another a little better, haven’t we?”
Shiloh’s face scrunches up as he thinks a little deeper about it. Realizing that he can’t tell me that we’re still strangers, because strangers haven’t seen each other during their most intimate, vulnerable moments. That kind of thing bonds people together, whether they want it to or not. And while he may not admit it, there’s something between us—a link, however tenuous. A string, a cord, a thread or whatever and it ties me to him. If he was an omega, I would almost think he could be my Fated Mate, but I know better.
“Hmmm. So, what do you want to do after college?” he asks, trying to divert the topic so that it gets back on track. Denial is a river in Egypt, but if he’s not ready to think about our growing relationship, that’s fine.
“I’m going to work at Blackwood Tech.”
He isn’t surprised by this, making a small humming noise before asking, “Doing what exactly? I can’t imagine they’ll have you starting off in the mail sorting room.”
Well, he’s right about that. According to my father, I’d be joining his executive team in some bullshit role as I learn the ropes, but that was a cushy appointment that came with a corner office and all the perks of being a Blackwood. I doubt I’d even see the mailroom or ever have to photocopy anything for myself.
“True. Whatever it is, I’m sure my papa has already chosen the furniture for my office.” I let my smile fall, the invisible weight of expectation around my neck making itself known again.
“Why do you sound so apathetic?” The frown is back, and I don’t like it. My innate reaction is to soothe him. Protect him from whatever is bothering him, even if it’s me. “I don’t think I like seeing you like this.”
I tilt my head as he watches me carefully with his eyes locked on mine. For a brief moment, we’re exposed, open and raw. Our words are filled with vulnerability and honesty, as that tether between us crackles and pulses.
He shudders, “It’s like all the emotion has just been sucked out of you. All that's been left behind a husk of the alpha meathead I’ve come to know.”
Always so dramatic, I think as I chuckle, snagging another Twizzlers before offering it to him.
“Isn’t that just growing up?” I retort, starting to rebuild my walls brick by brick. I’d had enough of today’s pity party already, there was only so much emotional dumping I could handle for one day.
“Is your plan to be miserable for your whole life?” He takes the candy, our fingers brushing, sending tingles skittering across my skin. His pupils widen, before he blinks and glances away. “If you weren’t Zale Blackwood of Blackwood Tech, what would you be doing after college?”
I would be a coach or a trainer working with teenagers, but I can’t say that. I can’t put those words out into the universe, because they’re laced with resentment and longing for a life I can’t have. Instead, I stare at the fire and ignore the way his gaze sears into the side of my face.
“It doesn’t matter, so there’s no point even thinking about it.” Taking a deep breath, I push all those feelings aside. Turning my laptop towards him, I point out some areas I’ve highlighted in our project plan. “You know what we should think about instead? How we standardize the framework for the reporting and how the supply chain will affect sustainability.”