Chapter Ten – Jess
I stand outside, clutching that glass of water like it’s my only lifeline, for what feels like an hour. In reality, it’s more like a minute or two, but still. By the time Asher steps outside and joins me with a sorrowful look on his face, I’m lost in my own head.
Mostly in the past. The recent past.
I can’t get the way Mason said that, and how he stood, out of my mind.
Being on the couch with him at night was one thing; he was standoffish and mean, sure, but this time it was different.
This time there was genuine concern behind his words…
and what feels like something else. Something with a bit more weight behind it.
The way he was gazing down at me, even the memory of it made me shiver.
Asher cautiously moves to stand beside me. “I’m sorry about him. He’s… you know. When I asked him for help, I didn’t think he’d get that into it.” He really does sound apologetic, like he’s taking what his brother did and how he acted toward me personally.
I am, too. I mean, I think I am. I’m pissed at that über, but at the same time I’m not. It’s the weirdest thing. Everything inside of me is so conflicted, I don’t know what to think or how to feel.
“It’s—” I’m going to say it’s fine, but you know what? No, it’s not. It’s not fine. Just because I’m an omega doesn’t mean Mason gets to take that kind of tone with me, and just because my body reacted the way it did doesn’t mean I liked it or anything.
Hell no. That alpha’s an asshole through and through, and I am so not into assholes.
It takes a lot out of me to say, “He’s a jerk.”
“He really is. I’m sorry. I was just… when I saw how much time had passed, and you weren’t back yet, I freaked out and begged him for help.” Asher sighs and shakes his head. “Honestly, I’m surprised he helped at all.”
“Did you interrupt something important that he was doing?”
“No. He was just hanging out in his room as far as I know.” Asher’s green gaze studies me, and he takes his time in adding, “I’ll talk to him again later. He’ll probably never apologize, but it’s worth a shot.”
Now it’s my turn to say, “No. I’ll talk to him.”
“But…”
“I said I’ll talk to him. I don’t need you fighting my battles for me, Asher.
Believe it or not, I’ve spent the last ten years of my life alone, so believe me when I tell you this is something I can handle myself, okay?
If I say I can do it, I can do it.” A bit harsh, maybe, but being harsh seems to be the only way to get it through to him.
He takes a single step back from me, and for a split second, he looks as though I just plunged a knife in his heart, but that expression fades into one of acceptance soon enough. “Okay, but if you need me for backup, you know I’m here for you.”
Sure, I want to say, you’re here for me now, but you weren’t back then.
What changed? Is it just because we got older? Is it because we weren’t in school anymore, so there was no peer pressure to ostracize the girl whose parents died? What makes him want to play the hero now when he could hardly look at me back then?
We used to be so close. We were best friends. We traded lunches. We sat next to each other on field trips. We even joked, way back when, that we’d end up in the same pack together, that we always wanted to be best friends.
Course, being in the same pack together as an alpha and an omega now means something totally different, something we’re both well aware of.
Maybe he did change, or maybe I did. It doesn’t matter in the end. We aren’t who we used to be. Those kids were gone, dead and buried along with my parents, and they’d never come back. It was something that took me years to accept, and up until now, I thought I was fine with it.
But standing here, face-to-face with Asher, makes everything rise to the surface in ways I’m not comfortable with.
So, instead of saying all that, I settle for telling him, “I’ll let you know if I need you.” And then I head inside the house, because I fear if I stay out there with him, my thoughts might wander a bit too far.
I don’t go right to Mason to chat. No, I figure I’ll let him cool off and give myself some time to cool off, too. Whatever kind of magic spell that alpha put on me before? I will not let a repeat scenario ensue. Now that I know what to expect, I can mentally prepare myself for it.
I still don’t really know what happened back there. I don’t get it.
It’s not like I could smell his pheromones or anything. Alphas never affect me like that. The closest thing to that I’ve experienced is back at the Omega Garden, at my last hurrah, with that Rourke guy.
My damn body had a mind of its own and reacted accordingly. I’d hate myself for it if I wasn’t so annoyed at Mason.
I spend a few hours in my temporary room.
How I wish I could see what my aunt is doing right now, if she’s freaking out.
I bet she is. I bet she was beside herself the moment she realized I wasn’t home and that my car was gone.
She probably contacted the local authorities right away, and I have to assume they found my car and my phone at the park.
But then I have a hard time imagining what she did next.
How helpless she must feel. Frankly, she deserves every ounce of that helplessness.
It’s only a taste of what it’s like to be an omega these days.
We might say we have agency over our own decisions, but ultimately we don’t.
If our parents or guardians feel strongly about something, they can still force us to join a pack we don’t want to be a part of.
I don’t feel bad for bringing this upon her.
Really, I should’ve been aware of that will a long time ago.
It should be my choice whether to match with a pack before my first heat, not hers.
She’s gotten so much out of my family’s wealth, lived a life of luxury even after my uncle died, that she doesn’t deserve to mooch off it any more.
There will be no love lost between us once things come full circle and I go back home. I’m prepared to do this, to go through my first heat alone, all to prove a point and be petty as hell.
And then, when I go back and the specifics of that will come to light? I’ll take my family’s wealth as my own and kick my aunt to the curb. I’ll be the one living in our house, not her. I’ll have more than enough money to take care of myself.
I could live and die alone. A sad thought, but it’s how I spent the last ten years of my life, so it doesn’t really sound that crazy to me.
When it’s time to go speak with Mason, I apply a fresh layer of the scent-blocking cream. I made sure to rile myself up with thoughts of my aunt on purpose; hopefully I’ll be so lost in my anger toward her that my body won’t have a chance to react to his über alpha-ness.
Who needs an über? Not me.
I leave my room and venture through the house in search of his. Truth be told, I don’t really know where his room is; I don’t think it’s near mine or Asher’s. It takes me a while to find it—and it’s not by either of ours. It’s downstairs, in a far corner of the house. The door is shut.
Hmm. Should I knock, or just go in? I suppose it would be nice to knock, but does this alpha deserve any niceties? Eh.
I decide to simply go in, and when I do, I find the alpha sitting on the edge of his bed, his back toward the door.
He’s hunched over, still wearing the jacket and shoes he wore when he and Asher were trying to find me.
It’s like he didn’t move at all since storming away, and when I enter, he doesn’t so much as glance over his shoulder to see who I am.
“What you did earlier wasn’t cool,” I say, rooted where I stand, just inside his room, with the door hanging ajar. I’m not sure where Asher is, but even with the door open, the house is large enough to give us some privacy.
Though I can’t see his face, I imagine Mason rolling his eyes, something to wordlessly voice his displeasure at my comment—or possibly show how he doesn’t give a shit about what I think. An alpha like him, I bet he never cares about what other people think. It’s how lone wolves tend to operate.
They think they’re all badass and shit, when in reality they’re pretty pathetic.
If you can’t have friends, if you’re not part of a small pack, then what good as an alpha are you?
Not one that should be trusted with omegas.
Pack dynamics are an important part of life not only when you’re an omega, but also when you’re an alpha.
When he doesn’t say a word, when he doesn’t respond at all, I gather up my courage and venture deeper into his room, stopping only when I stand before him with my arms folded over my chest and my hip cocked.
My intention is to be stern with a no-nonsense expression, but the moment I see how unfocused Mason’s eyes are, I wonder if he heard what I said at all.
Even after a minute passes, he doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t look at anything. He just sits there and stares off into space while gazing at the floor. It’s a weird thing to witness, and I don’t know what to make of it.
“Uh, hello? Are you in there?” Again, the alpha doesn’t respond, so I uncross my arms and snap my fingers before his face.
Finally, that brings him to the present, and he lifts his head somewhat, his hazel stare lifting to meet mine.
“What? What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice is low, the words whispered out, and yet he still doesn’t quite sound like himself.
Not like the take-charge über he was hours ago, and definitely not like the mean alpha he’d been on the couch.
I’m actually caught off-guard by his reply, so it takes me a moment to say, “I came here to… to yell at you for how you acted earlier.”
For a second I believe he’s going to try to argue with me, to take on that dominant tone again and call me omega, but he doesn’t. All he does is sharply look away and mutter, “If it’ll get your ass out of here, fine. Yell all you fucking want.”