Chapter Twenty-Six – Darius
I let the others show Mercedes around once I bring her to her temporary room. I know it’ll be better if I just go talk to Mom now rather than push it off and hope for the best; my mom might be a beta, but she’s got enough attitude to fill an alpha’s shoes. I think that’s why my dad fell for her so hard way back when. He liked the fact that a beta could keep him on his toes. When it comes to alphas, betas are typically spineless.
I head back down the stairs and find her slicing a chicken breast in half. I know she hears me, but she doesn’t tear her attention off that meat… or the sharp knife in her hand.
My mom would never hurt me, but the look on her face when she found out I wasn’t with Nic and Warren that night told me she was beyond pissed and disappointed in me. She raised me better than that. All that stuff.
“Mom,” I say. “It’s not—”
“I don’t want to hear any excuse from you,” she says, taking the cut chicken breast and dipping it in egg yolk. She then places it in a bowl of breading. “You skipped the ceremony. I can’t believe you. Honestly. Does your father know? No, I suppose he doesn’t. If he did, he would’ve told me.”
Moving to stand near her, I say, “Nic is the one who wanted an omega. Not me. I didn’t—”
“You are so much like your father, Darius, and your older brother, but life can’t be all work. You have to live, otherwise what’s the point?”
“People find purpose in their work all the time.”
“Sure, and then they die alone, or bitterly divorced or something. It’s not healthy. We’re meant to have a pack, no matter what the pack size is. We’re pack animals. You know this. I can’t believe you didn’t go. You’re lucky she agreed to sign with a pack she didn’t meet every member of.” She turns around and glares at me, abandoning the chicken in the breading, her fingers coated in egg yolk and crumbs. “I hope you’ve been kind to her, at the very least.”
How I wish I could lie to her, but I can’t. “Our first meeting didn’t go well.” This whole thing is why I refused to talk to her this past week; everything she knows, she either found out from Nic or just before, from Mercedes.
The sound she makes right then tells me she’s beyond fed up with me. “Tell me you made it up to her. Tell me you’ve been working on being more like Nic and less like Pax. I know you idolize your older brother, but he is not a good example for any of you boys.”
I have to resist rolling my eyes at that. The way she talks about us makes it sound like we’re still children. We aren’t. We are full-blooded adults with our own problems.
Never mind the fact that she’s right.
“I’m… trying,” I say.
“Well, I suppose that’s all any of us can do. Still, she seems—” Her brows come together as she must have to pause and think about how to describe Mercedes. “—fragile. She needs to know you three will always be there for her, no matter what. Patience is key in any relationship, but I imagine it’s especially important for someone like her.” My mom’s voice grows gentler as she says, “Give her time. Show her that she’s everything you need, and be patient.”
“Nic and Warren—”
“Are already head over heels for her, I know. I saw them fighting over who got to carry her bags into the house. It’s not them I’m worried about. It’s you.”
There is no room to argue with her on that, so I simply ask, “Need help prepping dinner?”
My mom grins up at me. “How sweet of you, but just so you know, it doesn’t make me any less disappointed in you. Yes, you can help me prep dinner, and then you can go spend some quality time with your omega and show her that you’re not upset with her for her letting it slip you weren’t there that night. I don’t think the poor girl knew I was in the dark about it.”
She’s right, of course. She’s right again. That’s the thing about my mom: she’s always right, and each and every time she knows it. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but I’m not. I’m thirty-two years old and she can still make me feel like I’m a child learning a lesson.
I hate it, honestly. I hate it, but at the same time, I appreciate her and her wisdom.
I help her with dinner. As soon as the final batch of cookies come out of the oven, the chicken is ready to go in and the potatoes are mashed and ready to cook on the stove. I help her clean up the dirty dishes before going to sit outside, in the back. Maybe some fresh air will help me clear my head.
When it comes to Mercedes, my head is always foggy. It’s not something I’m used to. I was annoyed, at first, frustrated that the omega Nic brought home was so enticing to me. My fucking scent match, fate’s way of laughing at me and my meticulously-kept life. I knew what she was the moment I found her in my office. Her scent, everything about her; it’s as if it was all crafted specifically for me.
Nic thinks she doesn’t know. Maybe she doesn’t. Or maybe she’s fighting it just as I am.
What an awkward conversation to have. Hey, so I think you’re my scent match. Your scent makes my dick instantly hard and your slick tastes like fucking candy to me. I can’t be within three feet of you without thinking about bending you over, tearing off your clothes, and pushing inside you. Do you feel the same?
And then the conversation with Warren… he’s pack. He’s a brother. He needs to know it, too.
I’m good at numbers. I’m good at being in charge and making sure everybody beneath me gets their jobs done. I’m a good overseer, and when someone is slacking I’m good at whipping them back into shape. What I’m not good at, however, is talking about my feelings. That particular skill was never mine.
I don’t know how long I sit on the back porch of my parents’ house before I hear the screen door open and shut, and I don’t need to look to know who’s joining me. The sweet, overpowering scent that fills my nostrils moments after is enough to tell me exactly who it is.
Mercedes is slow to sit down beside me. “Your mom told me you were out here. She thought we should talk,” she says quietly, tucking her hands under her legs as she splits her time between gazing out at the yard and looking at me.
It’s so dumb how badly I want her. It makes me feel like I just discovered my dick and the wonders it holds all over again. She sits a foot away, and yet I’m instantly dying to grab her, pull her onto my lap, and bury my face in that neck.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t know.”
I look at her, and right then the breeze blows past and makes my dick tingle with the need to grow rock hard and push itself between her thighs. Suddenly the memory of being on my knees for her, tasting her right from the source, is stronger than ever.
Bad timing. Don’t really want to walk around my parents’ house with a raging hard cock.
“Don’t apologize,” I tell her, sounding shorter with her than I intend to. “I really should’ve gone with Nic and Warren that night. It wasn’t right to send them alone.”
“If I remember right, it was just Nic who wanted to go.”
“Yes, but Warren quickly got over himself.” I smirk at nothing in particular. “I’m not there yet I don’t think.”
Her voice is soft when she whispers, “I think you’re getting better.” When I meet her amber eyes, she adds, “A little.” The eye contact must be too intense—or maybe she’s remembering me on my knees, too. Either way, she quickly averts those pretty eyes. “At least you can be in the same room as me without being mean.”
“I should never have snapped at you the way I did when we first met, or on our date. You deserved better than that. You still do.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
I don’t think she expected me to argue with her on that, because her gaze snaps back to me, and her brows furrow. She almost looks confused. I spend a moment lost in her eyes. The sun is setting in the horizon, and the back of the house faces west, which means the orange rays shine directly on us.
And those rays make her eyes so warm, so sparkling… so goddamn beautiful.
“I know you’re not keen on staying,” I whisper, “but Nic and Warren aren’t the only ones who need you.”
“What are you saying?” As she asks, she leans in toward me, a slight movement, but one I catch—and one I mimic. Before long, there isn’t a foot between us. Not anymore.
“I’m saying I want you to stay. I want to figure things out. I want…” A hard breath comes from my lungs as my body leans into hers. Her scent is so strong, so overpowering, I suddenly can’t think straight.
I want you. I want to prove that I can be better, that I’ll do better, for you. I want everything you have to give. I want your forever.
All those things and more I could’ve said, but in the end I don’t say another word. My fingertips brush her hair out of her face, tucking the stray wavy tendrils behind her ear before grabbing her chin and angling it up. Her lips part in anticipation, her eyelids fluttering shut as she wordlessly accepts the inevitable.
My mouth finds hers, slow and unsure for only a second before the kiss turns hard, desperate, and fierce. I tell her everything my words couldn’t through that kiss, my hand moving off her chin, to the back of her head, weaving in her hair. I kiss her so hard the world fades away around us.
Her lips are softer than anything I’ve ever felt, so soft they should be illegal. Kissing her is like kissing eternity, only flavored with candy. Sugar and sweet, every flavor of addiction there possibly is. She kisses me back with an urgency that tells me she needs this just as badly as I do, and as the kiss goes on, my lower half comes to life—and my hardening cock is only further jolted awake by the added scent of her slick in the air.
A kiss is all it takes to make this omega wet. Fuck. If that’s not proof she was always meant to be mine, I don’t know what is.
I momentarily forget we’re at my parents’ house, on their back porch. I grab her and pull her onto my lap, never breaking our lip lock as I help her legs straddle my lap. Those legs wrap around my midsection as her ass finds my lap, and I hold onto her so tightly nothing in this world could ever take her from me.
Not a damn tornado. Not any other alpha in the world. Not the fucker who hurt her.
Oh, I’m going to kill him. When I get my hands on him, I’m so going to kill him.
She’s mine. This omega is mine. Every inch of her, every part of her. Mine, mine, mine. I can’t think that word enough as our mouths get to know each other. It reverberates in my core, in my heart, in my very soul, until it’s the only word I can think of.
And so I whisper it against her lips, “Mine.” I kiss her again, hard. “You’re mine.” I nibble on her bottom lip and suck it between my teeth, causing her to moan and wriggle her ass on my lap. “You know you’re mine, don’t you?”
She whines into the kiss, panting out, “Yes.”
“Yes what? Say it, omega.” I growl out the last word, unable to help myself. It’s the opposite of an angry growl, though; it’s simply a growl of possession, of acceptance. A growl telling the world this woman belongs to me, even though we’re alone.
The way she melts against me is sign enough, the slick filling the air more than enough, but still she manages to murmur, “I’m yours.”
Something in me locks in place, something I never knew was missing before now. I’m content. Happy, even. I have the only thing in the whole world I need more than air itself.
I don’t know how long we sit there, how long we embrace, but by the time Mercedes pulls her mouth off mine and pants out, “I should… shower before dinner,” my balls ache and my cock drips precum.
But she’s right. We need to make ourselves presentable for dinner, and that means no added omega slick and no hints of alpha cum. Our dad should be home soon too, and although he’s bonded to our mom, I still don’t want him getting a whiff of her.
As a bonded alpha, he won’t be drawn in by her scent. Nature’s way of stopping alphas from continuously competing with each other. Still, as illogical as it is, the only people I want smelling her slick-filled scent are Nic and Warren. The delicious aroma is all ours.
Though letting her go is the last thing I want, I let her crawl off my lap. For an omega who’s my scent match, she’s remarkably in control. More in control than I am, it seems. I watch as she adjusts her pants, gives me a blushing look, and then leaves the back porch, slipping inside the house without saying another word.
Thoughts of going with her, of showering with her, fill my head. It’d be all too easy for me to get up and chase after her, to heave her into my arms and carry her up the stairs. Never has holding back been as laborious as it’s been since the moment Mercedes came home to us.
I give myself a while before I go inside, mostly so I’m not sporting a raging hard dick. Can’t forget where we are. My mom definitely doesn’t need to see that.