Chapter Eleven – Mercedes
Dinner is at six-thirty sharp. Nic has me seated at the dining room table across from Warren, who still wears his all-black getup even though his black hair is now damp, like he just took a shower. Nic brings in the dish and the side dishes: meatloaf and mashed potatoes and gravy, along with wax beans.
It smells so good, and it looks delicious. My mouth waters.
Once everything is brought over, Nic glances toward the hall. “I told Darius dinner was at six-thirty. Let me call him.” He pulls out his phone and dials Darius.
Dinner for the Alabaster pack is a pack thing. They eat together. For camaraderie or something. I can’t pretend to understand. At Solus, unless it was Sunday or Wednesday dinner, the older kids were on their own.
I hope this meatloaf tastes half as good as it looks.
Darius must pick up, because Nic says, “Dinner’s done. I told you six-thirty—” He pauses. “That’s… come on. Just come down. Eat with us. Don’t you want to—” If I have to guess, I’d say Darius ended the call, because Nic returns to the table, taking the seat next to mine with a sheepish look on his face. “He’s going to stay in his office and work.”
Warren lifts his brows. “Is that an option?”
“No,” he tells him pointedly, and Warren groans in response.
Jeez. I thought alphas were supposed to go feral for their omegas, and here I am in a pack where one hates me and one wants nothing to do with me.
Not that I’m saying I care. It’s just, you know, kind of weird. Not what I expected. It’ll make things easier when I leave, for sure, but for now… it’s a bit awkward for me, all around.
“I didn’t know it was so terrible to be around me,” I mutter, instantly wishing I would’ve kept the comment to myself.
“Like I told you before, ignore Warren. He’s just… Warren.” As Nic says this, across the table, the alpha in question nods along, as if he totally gets it. “And Darius, just give him some time to come around. You aren’t terrible to be around.” He gestures for me to dig in. “Ladies first.” He flashes me a wide, dimpled grin.
Whatever. The food looks delicious, and I don’t plan on being coy and pretending I don’t need to eat. I grab two slices of the meatloaf, a generous heaping of mashed potatoes, and three scoops of the beans.
“No gravy?” Nic asks, his tone reading confused.
“Uh,” I start as I eye up the gravy dish. “It looks like… I don’t really want to say what the gravy looks like.”
“She means it looks like watered-down shit,” Warren states with an evil glee as he fills his plate and pours what looks to be an inordinate amount of gravy all over everything. “That’s how you know it’s good.”
“Actually,” Nic says, “you know it’s good when you—”
With a wave of his hand, the other alpha interrupts, “Dude, nobody cares how you make it.”
Grumbling to himself, Nic says nothing in response as he fills his plate.
I pick up my fork and cut into the meatloaf. They aren’t going to change my mind about the gravy. It really does look gross. Nobody’s going to change my mind about that. I bring the piece I cut off to my mouth, and the moment I bite into it, I’m transported to another world. I close my eyes and revel.
The flavor. The juices. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever had in my life. Nothing could compare. This is the good stuff right here. This meatloaf? Holy shit. I want to eat it every single day. I might moan as I chew it slowly.
The sound of someone dropping their fork makes me open my eyes, and that’s when I remember I’m not alone. Nic is to my right, while Warren is directly across from me. Both alphas currently stare at me like I just told them the secrets to the universe and all of the unanswered questions within.
No, more than that. They look at me like they want to devour me instead of the food on their plates.
I swallow and say, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” To moan? Somehow, I can’t force that word to come out of my mouth. “It’s really good. It’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my life.”
Nic is the first to laugh it off, but Warren looks like he’s going to snap the fork he’s holding onto. “Don’t apologize. If it’s that good, I want to hear it. This chef worked very hard on it, slaving away all by his lonesome.” He leans in toward me and whispers, “But it was worth it.” Before he straightens out, I hear him inhale deeply, taking in my scent, and I’d be lying if I say I don’t like it.
My goal might not be to stick around, but the omega in me still wants to be desired.
And if a single, short moan could make the two at the table nearly lose their shit… hmm.
Nic glances at Warren. “Dude, stop staring at her like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you… want to, you know,” Nic whispers, as if lowering his voice will make the comment private between him and the other alpha, as if I’m not a foot away, able to hear the whole thing. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”
Actually, he isn’t, but I don’t say a word, choosing to instead take another piece of meatloaf off my plate and bring it to my mouth, well aware Warren still eyes me up like he wants to devour me instead of the food before him.
“I don’t think I am,” Warren says, a devious half-smile tugging at his lips. “I think she likes it. Her scent is thicker in the air now. You can smell it too, Nic, I know you can.” His chest shudders. “She does have a delicious scent, I admit.”
Is my scent thicker in the air? I didn’t even notice.
“Warren, come on—”
Suddenly the alpha sitting opposite me stands, jerking his chair back along the floor. He grabs his plate, his fork, and his drink, and he moves around the table to sit on my other side, sandwiching me between him and Nic. He sets everything down and wastes no time. The moment his hands are free, he’s setting one on the back of my chair and the other on my knee as he leans in toward me while Nic glares at him.
I go rigid out of habit, but even so, feeling his nose brush up against the crook of my neck does something to me. My eyelids flutter shut on their own, and I turn my head a bit, giving him better access to my neck, an instinctual reaction, one I never had with Jay.
I should want to push him away. I should feel boxed in with the way he sits, leaning into me, with a hand on my chair. I should want to slap the hand off my knee, but I don’t. I can’t. I… like it.
“Fuck,” Warren moans against my neck. “You really do smell amazing, Red.”
Nic might say his name again, but I’m too focused on the way Warren’s voice sounded, so husky, so ragged, like I pulled all the breath out of him. And the way he said the word fuck … just like that, my thighs clench together and I’m pretty sure my panties dampen.
Shit.
Nic stiffens, and I’m pretty sure I hear him release a heavy breath. Still leaning into my neck, Warren’s chest lets out an appreciative hum of a sound. Both alphas can certainly smell my arousal—my damn slick. An aspect of being an omega I hate.
Then again, it’s never leaked out of me like this before. Everything about Jay was always sour and gross; I was never into it. My body refused to unlock for him. And yet, here I am with two strangers, and my inner animal is ready to offer herself up on a silver platter.
Why?
Again, Warren mutters a hard, “Fuck. I’ve never smelled anything so good. It makes me want to abandon the food and eat something else.” His nose dances along my neck, and he playfully licks an area directly beneath my jaw. The feeling of his warm, wet tongue on my skin is damn near enough to send me tumbling over the edge and make me climax right there. “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Nic and I could lay you across the table and take turns feasting on you.”
Though it’s more of a groaned word, Nic warns, “Warren…”
If I had any logical part of me left, I’d push Warren away and slink back to my room, where I’d take care of my wet panties and get my body under control—but it’s quickly becoming clear that control is the last thing I have. I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never wanted…
Well, anything involving an alpha, let alone multiple. I thought Jay soured the idea of all alpha-kind in my head, but maybe it’s simply that I needed to find the right alphas.
The hand on my knee moves, travelling upward, along my leg and up my jeans until it reaches the button. I’m so out of my mind that I let Warren undo it. Even the sound of the zipper doesn’t snap me back to reality. It’s like my mind is filled with nothing but a haze, and I can’t think straight. Put me on the spot and I wouldn’t even remember my own name.
Warren doesn’t hesitate; his hand slips between my jeans and my panties, curving along my body and instantly finding its destination. “She’s soaked,” he murmurs against my neck. “Just like that.” His fingers find the nub of sensitive skin beneath my wet panties, and he starts to rub me over the fabric, drawing out a stifled sound from me.
It’s insane how easily my body reacts, how quickly a pressure builds in my lower gut. It’s not even skin-on-skin contact; he’s rubbing me over my panties, and I’m melting. My nipples are pebbles against my bra, pushing against the fabric with every hard breath I take. I want to take off all my clothes and—
And…
Something in my clicks, and I whimper out, “Stop.”
Nic starts to say the other alpha’s name, but Warren is already removing his hand from between my thighs. I open my eyes, staring straight ahead. I refuse to look at either alpha on my right or left, fearing what I’ll see.
The expressions on their faces. Their dilated pupils. The desire written over every feature. If I see all those things, I might revert back to a needy, knot-hungry omega, and I can’t let that happen. I need to keep my cool with these guys, regardless of how my body might react to theirs.
And, on top of all that, Warren is kind of a jerk. He doesn’t deserve anything from me.
Once I have some space, AKA once Warren’s no longer touching me or boxing me in, I grab my plate and mutter, “I’m going to eat in my room.” And then I stand and hurry away, all too aware that my jeans are undone.
My body is a traitor. Never thought I’d see the day. I managed to never melt under the gaze or alpha dominance of Jay, and yet I step foot in this house and become a totally different omega. It’s not me. It can’t be me. This isn’t what I want.
Safely in my bedroom, I lock the door and set my plate down on my bed. Before I sit down to eat, I change out of my jeans and put on a new pair of panties. If I had my way, I’d burn the pair I leaked on; it’s only a sign my body can’t be trusted. With my heat coming before the end of the month, I’m only going to get worse.
I’ll get worse, and then, before long, I’ll be a slave to my desires. I’ll lose all sense of self, unless I find a place to go before then, a place where I can be safe and ride out my heat without the help of any alpha knots.
It won’t be easy. Going through a heat without any alphas is supposed to be the worst kind of torture there is. Physical pain, mental anguish; from what I’ve been told, it’s literal hell on earth. But, that said, it’s not impossible.
Once my clothes are fixed and I’m no longer wearing my own slick, I sit cross-legged on the bed and stare at the plate of food. I forgot my drink and the fork, which means I’ll have to use my hands and not have anything to wash it down with. Oh, well. I won’t go back downstairs.
I don’t trust them, but at this point it’s obvious I can’t trust myself around them, either.
Ugh. This is going to be more difficult than I thought.