3. Gabriela
CHAPTER 3
GAbrIELA
I knew I wasn’t likable. I wasn’t anyone’s favorite at school, but that was probably because of Mom. Whatever, Mom wasn’t the point.
The point was…the silver fox wasn’t saying a word to me.
The man was gorgeous—broad shoulders, piercing blue eyes, and salt and pepper hair, though most of it was salt. It worked on him. He looked so handsome, my steps faltered when I saw he held the sign with my name.
And yet, he never even said hello.
I could only guess his voice was as delicious as his body, but again, it was only a guess.
He didn’t say a word to me.
I looked down at my leggings and sneakers. I knew I should have dressed up, but I had just faced three long flights. I was exhausted, and looking pretty wasn’t a priority when I left Bolivia.
It was now.
At least Alice looked happy. She bounced on her toes as we made our way through the parking lot to their car, her hands secured in Tadgh’s. He was beautiful too. The youngest of the three, his hair was dark brown, with eyes of emerald green. He was clean shaven, and there was something boyish about him.
The last one, Oisin, gave me a sense of calm, of sturdiness. Not as tall as Lorcan, but way taller than me, he had lines in the corner of his eyes. His hair was a little long, almost sweeping his shoulders, and every time a strand got loose in front of his eyes, he brushed it back with his right hand.
I liked that move a lot.
The three of them were perfect, and it was hard to believe they were there for me. I couldn't ignore the growing certainty that once they properly met me, they would realize I wasn’t a big deal.
I was just a twenty-six year old waitress. I had nothing to offer. No education, no career. I was nobody, and they were three hot guys.
When was the other shoe going to drop?
I followed them to a gigantic white car parked in the upper level of the parking lot. From there, I had a view of Dublin and, just like from up in the sky, grey was all my eyes could see.
It was a miserable day, dark and raining right from landing. I hugged Alice to my side, wondering if we even had clothes warm enough for this weather.
It was June, though. This was supposed to be their summer. Yet, a gust of wind almost blew me away, and I gulped, alarmed.
“It’s just a bad day. It’ll get better,” Tadgh told me with a dismissive wave of his hand.
The village where they lived was hours from here, right down in the Dingle Peninsula, and I started to second guess my decisions. When I accepted Teresa’s help, I also accepted that their end game was to find me a pack. I didn't think I would end up in Ireland, no, but I had to honor my word.
The wind slapped me again, right in the face, and I had to gather all my strength to force a smile, pretending I believed better days would come.
I had to remind myself that Teresa did a background check on them, and they had been communicating with their village leader since we matched.
If I was going to let some trauma seep through—and I shouldn't—what really scared me was being unlovable. I wanted them to like me, and I didn’t want the mating thing to be the reason, which was stupid.
The mating call was chemical, and for that reason, they could find the right pack for me through my blood samples. They were supposed to smell my perfume and fall in love.
I hated that.
My whole life, I never got to be someone's first choice, and it killed me that even now, when I was about to marry three Irishmen, it was all because they could smell my crazy omega pheromones or something.
It made me want to impress Lorcan even more. If I could earn their affection, it wouldn't feel fake. I wouldn't be just a nice smelling omega. I'd be theirs .
We got into the car, me in front with Lorcan driving and Oisin and Tadgh in the back with Alice. The car was big enough, and she looked comfortable, so I breathed out trying to give myself grace.
As I put my seatbelt on, the male scent hit me all at once, and I shook as goosebumps spread over my skin. I felt warm and watched, and my suspicions were confirmed when I turned to Lorcan and caught him watching me with his impossible blue eyes.
“Everything okay?” I whispered.
He parted his lips, and my dumb heart sped up waiting for his first words to me. Instead, he grunted and started the car.
Ireland was pretty, in its own gloomy and rainy way. When the gray skies parted, giving space to a shy sunny day, we pressed out of Dublin, and I appreciated the luscious green grass everywhere.
Alice and Tadgh got into a game. He’d point to something, and she’d say the word in Portuguese, and he would try to repeat it. He wasn’t very good. She, on the other hand, was a natural.
Smart baby.
“I thought you were both living in Bolivia?” Oisin asked from the back seat. “Don’t they speak Spanish?”
I nodded and glanced at him over my shoulder. “But I’m Brazilian. I was raised right at the border but the Brazilian side. When I moved to the village, people were as accommodating as they could. We learned a lot of Spanish too.”
“Smart girl,” Oisin said with a pride I didn’t expect to hear in his voice. “And now she’s learning English.”
We both looked back at Alice, and she giggled.
“She might do well with Irish.”
“Irish?” I asked, alarmed, turning to look at Oisin.
He winced, bringing his hand up to his neck. He looked at Lorcan through the mirror, but once again, the man decided not to say a word.
“We speak Irish sometimes.”
“Don’t lie to her.” The words came out too harsh, too deep. I felt them shaking the structure of my very being.
Don’t lie to her.
Yes, I’d appreciate not to be lied to, but I was so surprised by Lorcan speaking, I almost forgot what we were talking about until Oisin cleared his throat.
“The official language in Ireland is English, and unfortunately, most of the population can’t put a sentence together in Irish, the indigenous language of this island.”
“Some small villages still speak Irish though. Ours included,” Lorcan said without looking at me. “It won't be a problem. Everyone can speak English to you and Alice, but you should know that in our village, Irish is the official language.”
I furrowed my eyebrows, not sure how to take that. English was already hard enough. Another language?
My head was spinning, but Lorcan was talking again, and when he did, my whole body paid attention. His voice was liquid gold, hot, precious, and with a strong accent that I felt right between my legs.
“You don’t need to worry,” he said. “You’ll learn fast.”
I glanced at him, and his eyes were on me for just a second, but I couldn’t handle more than that. He was so intense, his gaze held so much weight, my heart skipped a beat. His eyes were back on the road, but I still felt an unnatural heat curling down my stomach.
Was it already starting? Teresa made sure I knew what was waiting for me. She told me that just being in the presence of my alphas could kickstart my heat, but for some reason, I assumed it wouldn't happen to me. Maybe I was broken. Maybe I wasn't an omega.
After all, she claimed my mom was one, and yet she was the coldest person I knew.
I sighed and looked through the window, trying to erase my mother out of my mind.
Teresa made sure I understood their anatomy, had explained all she could about the heat. I knew when it hit me, I was supposed to feel out of control. I flexed my fingers, as if checking I was still me. I didn't want to feel out of control. I didn't think I ever was.
I rubbed my face, releasing a fortifying breath. It was a lot to get used to in so little time.
“I need to pee!” Alice shouted from the back.
Good girl—she even said it in English.
Lorcan stopped at a gas station and restaurant as quickly as he could. I hopped from the car and opened the passenger seat, taking Alice by the hand and running to the bathrooms. I helped her wash up after and then crouched to her level.
“Are you alright?” I asked, tugging her sweatshirt down.
She nodded. “Tadgh is funny.”
“You know you can tell me if you want to go home, right?”
Alice tilted her head to the side. “Home? To the village, or to our home before?”
I bit down my lip. She was right. Where was home? I’d never heard of one.
My grandmother was the only home I’d ever had. When my mom left for days without checking if I had enough food, that wasn't a home. My grandmother's hugs were what I understood as home, and now that she was gone, I’d forgotten the meaning of the word.
I touched Alice’s braids, remembering it was my grandmother who used to braid my hair every Sunday. She had so little to give, and yet time was something she was generous with. Her time and patience.
She told me tales and braided my hair, I nodded along with stories I didn’t even understand and let her take care of me for hours.
Attention I needed, she gave it freely. That was how I raised Alice—when the chips were down and I had nothing else to give, I still sat down next to her and braided her hair. I showed her pictures of beautiful Black women on Pinterest and asked her what hair style we would copy that day.
Alice was a miracle. Through the ups and downs of our lives, she was the most well-adjusted little girl I could ask for. And once again, she was right.
Home where?
I guess home was here now.