Chapter Thirty-Eight – Raeka
While the alphas are gone, I work on scheduling a get-together with not only my family, but also Pax’s.
For the latter, I enlist Mercedes’s help.
She pretty much knows what’s up already, but Pax’s parents don’t.
I suppose we should just get it all done at the same time, have everyone meet everyone else at one big party at the house.
At my new house. My home.
Still doesn’t feel quite real, having accepted a place in this pack. Knowing I’m going to become a Chase is a strange feeling, but one I’m slowly learning to accept.
Colter spends most of his time in his studio, painting, and I join him when I can. With both Pax and Gideon gone, it is a little lonely in the house with just the two of us, and since I’m not marked by either alpha, it’s not exactly safe for me to go downtown by myself.
All that said, it’s easy to get used to. I don’t feel like scratching out of my own skin. I don’t have anything to hide anymore; everything is out in the open, and they accept me for it. I’m happy, and that’s not something I ever prepared myself for.
Being happy all the time, it’s easy. A strange, giddy, semi-tingly feeling—very similar to the feeling I get when one of my guys brushes their lips against the tender skin above the scent gland in my neck. My sense of smell has returned in full, and I am an omega to my core; I lose my shit a lot.
Let’s just say the orgasms and the sex did not end the moment my fake heat ended.
It’s Friday, and I’m looking forward to having the guys home for an extended period of time.
I’m with Colter most of the day, although I made myself a little comfy spot in the corner of his studio so I could lay down and fiddle around on my laptop while he paints.
When I watch ASL lessons, I do them with headphones on so I don’t distract him.
My phone lights up, and I see a message from Mercedes: We’re all good for next weekend.
I respond, Thank you for helping out. Hopefully the whole thing goes without a hitch.
Her reply is instant: It will. I know Mr. and Mrs. Alabaster will love you.
I’ll meet them not this weekend but next, so I’ll put that to the test. And then, another thought occurs to me, and I tell her, This means we’re like sister-in-laws, doesn’t it?
I think so? I didn’t realize that! I’ve never had a sister before.
I smile to myself. I have. You’ll meet her next weekend. She’s the perfect little omega.
Not every omega hates being an omega… unlike us.
Yeah, she’s right. There are bound to be omegas out there who actually enjoy being omegas.
Mercedes and I are alike in that way, though I think the reason behind our dislike for our omega designation is slightly different.
She wanted her freedom, to get away from that possessive alpha asshole who marked her up when they were kids.
I never experienced anything as traumatic as that, so it just feels wrong to compare my situation to hers.
I just… I don’t know. Maybe I’m too proud to be an omega, my pride too big or something.
I quietly close my laptop and get up. I ask Colter, “Do you want anything from the kitchen? I’m going to get some water.”
He shakes his head no, gives me a quiet smile, and resumes his current piece: a portrait of a wolf pack.
The biggest wolf has bright green eyes and thick, tan fur.
The second biggest wolf has eyes the color of the sky and brown hair the color of the dirt path they stand on in his portrait.
The third wolf has brown fur, much like the second, but its stature is smaller, and its eyes are a honeyed amber.
One wolf has blondish-gray hair, and is smaller than the others.
Us. He’s painting us as wolves. I love it.
I match his smile with one of my own before heading downstairs. I take my time in walking down the stairs, humming to myself along the way—which is totally weird. I never hum. I never hum and smile to myself.
Guess that just goes to show that I’m happy here. I’m really happy, unbelievably so. I’m so happy, I’m certain nothing could sour my mood.
Making it to the kitchen, I’m humming a familiar tune from the radio as I grab a bottle of water and take a sip. It’s an hour after lunch, which means we still have a few hours to go before the guys get back. I’m heading out of the kitchen and into the hall when my ears pick up an odd sound.
I freeze, slow in turning around. I inch down the hall, following the odd sound, and my feet stop inching when I see shadows outside the front door.
The glass is frosted, so I can’t see who it is, but in all the time I’ve been here, I’ve never seen anyone going door-to-door in this neighborhood.
The houses are older, with big yards, and there are no sidewalks; it’s the very definition of privacy.
Plus, this property has a fence all the way around it.
So who the hell are they?
And then, before my mind can register what’s happening, a loud thump rises in the air and the door caves in.
A squad of alphas, all wearing black, their faces covered by masks and big, thick guns drawn, march inside the house.
I’m too shocked to be scared, a deer in headlights as the men surround me, all pointing their weapons at me.
One of them growls out, “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t fight us.” Whoever he is, he doesn’t use his alpha dominance, and a part of me wonders if he’s baiting me, trying to get me to fight back so he can have an excuse to exert his power over me.
Who am I in the face of all these strangers? One omega against what’s basically a mini-army of alphas? I have no chance, so all I do is lift my hands up in surrender and wish I wouldn’t have left my phone upstairs with Colter.
Colter. Shit.
The man who spoke lowers his gun so he can reach for something on his side: cuffs. Not quite handcuffs like the police have, but close enough. He jerks my arms behind my back and cuffs me.
The man who must be in charge of them lifts a wrist to his covered mouth, “Got the omega. Still want the other one?” He must get the affirmative, because he gestures for the others to check the house. All but him and the one who cuffed me split up into teams of two to look for Colter.
I’m dragged into the living room once it’s cleared, and I glare at the two alphas standing a few feet away, on high alert.
“Who are you?” I demand, but an omega making demands of alphas is useless, unless those alphas are in her pack.
These particular guys? They owe me nothing.
Hell, I should be grateful they’re not going nuts around my unbonded, full-blown scent.
They ignore me, and the longer they ignore me, the longer the others are searching the house—and the more time that passes, the more likely they are to have found Colter. I hope, pray that they aren’t hurting him.
“What do you want?” I say, but again, I’m met with silence.
I grind my teeth, not used to being overlooked, when finally I hear footsteps.
I stand, but a harsh look from both alphas near me makes me sit right back down.
With my heart in my throat, I watch as the other alphas pull Colter into the room.
His hands are behind his back, in similar cuffs as me, and the moment he sees me, the beta’s eyes widen.
He tries to run to me, but one of the alphas behind him knocks him off his feet and to the ground.
“No,” I whisper, watching in horror as the beta grunts as he collides with the floor, unable to catch himself since his hands are behind his back.
The alpha in charge barks out, “No more of that.” For a second, I think he’s talking to Colter, but based on the way the alpha who hit him responds: by ducking his head down and nodding once, he was talking about his rough behavior.
The alpha who knocked him down grabs Colter by the back of the neck, jerking him onto his knees. The beta struggles, but it’s pointless.
Mr. In-Charge pulls something out of his pocket. Two somethings. He says to his wrist, “Got ‘em both. Gonna bag ‘em and tag ‘em, then bring ‘em straight to you.”
My heart beats so fast I feel the blood pumping quicker in my veins, and as the alpha approaches me with one of the things he pulled out of his pocket, I stand—but I can’t go anywhere, because the other alpha watching me grabs me and holds me steady.
A needle. A needle with God knows what.
“No, don’t—” My nostrils flare as I try to wriggle out of the alpha’s hold, but just like Colter, I fail. I’m stuck in the neck with whatever it is, and mere seconds after it’s fully injected in me, I get woozy.
My head gets heavy. My vision blurs. I have the damnedest time keeping my head up, so eventually I give up and let it fall back. My eyes roll into the back of my head mere seconds before the alpha goes to Colter to give him the same shot.
Whatever it is must be strong to knock me out that quickly… and to make me think I hear Colter’s voice for the first time, saying nothing more than my name, “Raeka,” before the blackness of oblivion takes me.