Chapter 2 Kady #2
But I’m in no position to be choosy. I can suck up my pride and temporarily put up with the Blandon Pack if it means keeping my ring finger vacant, right?
“Thanks, Devon.” I stash my laptop back into my bag. “I owe you some of Mei’s chili noodles.”
“And vegetable dumplings.” He fluffs his mohawk. “If you’re going to the alpha quad to look for them, I can come with. If you want company?”
“Turning up with an alpha may make them hostile. They’ll respond better to a lone omega.” I neglect to mention the real reason why I want to speak to them. “But thank you for the offer.”
“Phew.” He wipes his forehead. “I don’t think they’d be too pleased to see me anyway. We were neighbors last year.” He grimaces. “They still live in House 29 as far as I know. I’m sure you’ll smell it before you see it. You’ll see for yourself.”
“I owe you one.”
“I know.” He twirls back to his desk. “And don’t forget the food next time.”
“You got it.”
“Let me know how it goes, Kady,” Leah calls as I pace past. “If there’s a story there, I know you’ll find it.”
I nod in steely determination as I fly out of the door, finding the nearest golf cart, and slamming my foot on the gas.
It’s a beautiful fall morning, and the campus is abuzz with activity. Many students are cozying up in coffee shops or hurrying to the library, arms laden with books, now that we’re well into the term.
Halloween is this Friday, so decorations are everywhere.
Pumpkins adorn practically every store entrance, along with other spooky displays.
Nora’s Nesting Nook has gone all out for the occasion—instead of their usual cozy blankets and drapes, they’ve put out a bare mattress and grimy hole-ridden sheets in the window.
I shiver at the sight of it. That’s definitely scarier to an omega than any zombie or monster.
I duck to avoid being hit in the face by fake cobwebs and spiders as I whiz underneath low-hanging branches. Across the sprawling lawns, fake tombstones have been resurrected, and posters hang everywhere advertising the Monster Masquerade at Club Knotty on Friday.
I hook a right then speed to the alpha quad. It’s been a while since I’ve been here, so I draw some attention as I travel through. Few omegas enter this part of campus alone unless they’re courting a pack, but these are extenuating circumstances.
My skin prickles as a pack working out in the yard wolf-whistles in my direction.
I clamp my mouth closed to stop from shouting that bench pressing tiny kettle bells will do nothing for their weedy arms, but I’m spared from saying anything as a female alpha jogging past overhears and yells at him, “Do you think any omega would look twice at your shriveled knot, dude? Keep pressing!”
I snort as she shoots me an apologetic smile and waves before continuing on her way. Not all alphas are assholes.
I zero my attention in on counting down the house numbers.
25. 27… 29. This must be it.
The Blandon Pack house looks worse for wear.
The mailbox is bulging with soggy envelopes, the lawn is overgrown, and a few beer cans lie in the grass alongside a deflated basketball.
There are no personal touches. If not for the stack of pizza boxes piled next to the front door, I’d think they moved out months ago.
Squaring my shoulders, I suck in a deep breath. It’s now or never.
I hold my chin up high as I park and stride to their front door, willing my feet forward when all I want to do is turn around.
I attempt to close my nostrils from the assault of the rotting smell emanating from the takeout boxes at my feet before trying the doorbell.
It doesn’t work—go figure—so I hammer on the wood.
No answer.
I make my way to the window, peering through the grubby glass to see if there’s any movement inside. The interior looks as scruffy as the outside with dirty clothes strewn over the sofa, empty chip bags scattered across the coffee table, and a decaying sandwich poking out from underneath a cushion.
I head back to the front where I bang on the door again. Frustrated and grossed out, I’m about to turn around when the door finally opens.
“Are you lost, omega?” a male voice slurs from the darkened doorway.
Shea Cockburn leans against the door frame, his bleary, red-rimmed eyes and his repulsive scent hitting me like a slap to the face. The smell of stale beer and his BO-baked clothes make my stomach churn. I reflexively take a step back, recoiling.
Hoping my expression doesn’t show my disgust, I cross my arms, peering over his shoulder into the dingy hallway. “Is Tyler in?”
“Maybe.” Shea narrows his eyes in curiosity, opening the door wider. The motion of the door wafts more of his scent in my direction. It has a distinct yeasty undertone, overlaid with an overpowering, synthetic, fruity smell. “Who’s asking?”
“Step aside, Shea.” Tyler appears behind him, baring his teeth in what I assume is meant to be a smile. “Don’t be rude to our guest.”
Unlike his packmate, Tyler at least appears to have showered today.
However, his button-down shirt and slacks are overly formal, giving the impression that he’s trying too hard.
They’re also a size too small, making his movements jerky and wooden.
He’s shorter than Shea and only an inch taller than me at 5′8′′.
While I’m tall for an omega, it’s still unusual to find an alpha below 6′.
Tyler quickly smooths his thinning brown hair to one side, presumably to disguise his premature balding.
It’d be better if he shaved it all off since he’s not fooling anyone, but I bite my tongue.
He smells oddly sterile, like pure ethanol with a splash of baby powder, plus a stinging whiff of pine needles to round it off.
“A hot guest.” Kyro lets out a low whistle from behind Tyler. Unfortunately, he smells as bad as his twin—nasty cheap cologne and booze. Kyro and Shea are identical. They’re bulky in stature—all muscle with no neck. If you were to draw them, they’d have a profile similar to Sponge Bob.
“Enough.” Tyler hip checks Kyro. “What can we help you with, omega? Do you need directions?”
“Actually, I came to see your pack. I’m with The Valley Voice.” I show him my lanyard. “I want to speak to you about what happened at the speed scenting mixer.”
Tyler’s lips purse like he’s sucking on a bitter lemon, giving his pock-marked face a drawn, unhealthy appearance. “We’re not talking about that.” He shoves Shea out of the way then lunges for the door handle with surprising speed for such a scrawny guy. “There’s no proof—”
“Wait!” I stick my foot in the doorway before he closes it. “I just want to talk, okay? I have a proposition for you.”
“A proposition?” He eyes me up and down before a flash of recognition appears in his watery eyes. “You’re Kady Sinclair.”
“Yes, I am.” I don’t usually use my name as leverage, but I can tell from the way Tyler’s chest puffs out that he’s the type of alpha who responds well to status. “Now can we talk inside? Please?”
“Fine.” Gnawing on his cheek, he reluctantly steps aside. “But you better make it quick. We have places to be.”
As soon as I step over the threshold, the combination of their three scents makes me want to take a shower and scrub my skin for hours. Gross doesn’t even begin to describe it.
“The living room’s this way,” Tyler says as Kyro kicks a garbage bag out of my path like it’s a soccer ball. “Our housekeeper is stopping by later.”
“Uh-huh.” My gaze sweeps over the inches of dust along the floorboards and the suspicious brown stains deeply ingrained in the filthy carpet. From the looks of it, no one has cleaned in here for months, but I’m not going to call Tyler out on his bullshit when I need his help. “No problem.”
After leading me into their living room, Tyler gestures to the sofa where there’s only a tiny section that’s not covered in take-out menus and discarded food boxes. “Take a seat.”
I perch right on the edge, knowing that I’ll have to burn this outfit to get the smell out when I get home.
I try not to breathe in too deeply, fearful of the source of the disgusting smell wafting up from the sofas depths as I shift my weight.
The green-speckled sandwich taunts me from the corner of my eye, the yellowing crust peering around the edge of the cushion, making me question my decision to be here.
Plonking himself atop a pile of garbage on the armchair, Shea’s oblivious to the junk everywhere, while Kyro haphazardly throws everything onto the floor to make space for him and Tyler on another sofa opposite me.
“Whatever rumors you’ve heard aren’t true,” Shea grunts. “The AlphaPrime wasn’t even mine.”
I slip my notebook and pen from my bag. “So you’re confirming that you did bring AlphaPrime to a speed scenting mixer?”
“N-n-no! That’s not what I meant.” Shea’s cheeks redden. “Someone planted it!”
Yeah, fucking right. I don’t believe him for a second. And unfortunately for him, no spray could help make his scent any more appealing.
“Don’t say another word, Shea,” Tyler hisses. “What do you want, Ms. Sinclair? Did you really come all the way down here to talk about a misunderstanding? You said you have a proposition for us.”
“I do.” I close my notebook. “And I think it’ll be of mutual benefit.”
“Mutual benefit?” Kyro scoffs, plopping his dirty sneakers onto the coffee table. “Aren’t you the bitch who made a complaint about me at the start of the semester?”
I grit my jaw and remember why I’m doing this. Fake dating these misogynistic jerks for a few months will be worth it in the end.
Tyler drums his fingers on the sofa arm, ignoring Kyro’s objections. “I’m listening, omega.”
“It’s clear that you tried to rig the speed scenting event.” My lip curls in disapproval, looking pointedly in Shea’s direction. He stews in a bad mood, shooting me daggers. “When news gets out, no omega at SVU will want anything to do with you.”
“See? The bitch is only here to taunt us.” Kyro jabs his finger in my direction.
“Let her speak, Kyro,” Tyler growls.
Perhaps Tyler isn’t entirely stupid, unlike the twin trolls. He knows how damaging this will be for their reputation. They’ll be lucky to find an omega at all. He’s got nothing to lose by hearing me out.
“I’d like to propose an arrangement that will help fix your reputation.”
“And why would you want to do that?” Shea snarls.
Tyler studies me intently, making my skin crawl. “I’m listening.”
“All I need you to do is pretend to court me for a few months.”
“What?” Kyro splutters as Shea’s eyes bulge. “Court you?!”
“Pretend to court me,” I correct firmly.
Tyler narrows his eyes. “What’s in it for you?”
I sigh. “My father wants me to marry a pack, but I told him I can’t because I’m already courting.”
Kyro grins smugly. “So you need us.”
“I need a fake pack.” If they want me to beg, they’ll be waiting a lifetime.
I’m sure there are other packs on campus who could help me out.
I shove my notebook into my bag then rise, wincing as I see something move behind a pile of dirty clothes in the corner.
“I thought this arrangement would be helpful for everyone. If we fake court, your reputation will be saved, and having Kady Sinclair as your ex-omega may count for something with other omegas. But if you’re not interested, I’ll gladly see myself out. ”
I leave their angry whispers behind until Tyler yells, “Wait!”
I spin, pausing at the door. I have them right where I want them. “Yes?”
“If we agreed to this…” Tyler crosses his arms. “What would we have to do?”
“Not much.” I shrug. “We’d have to be seen with each other publicly. Get a few photos. Make our relationship appear convincing. We only need to keep up the ruse for a few months, then we can part ways amicably. It’s a win-win.”
“Are you seriously considering this, Ty?” Shea guffaws. “We came to SVU to find our real omega.”
“And you ruined our chances when you took AlphaPrime to the mixer,” Tyler snaps, silencing him. Shea sulkily slouches against the wall, hanging his head before Tyler turns back to me. “If we agree, what would be our next steps?”
“We’d swap numbers and stay in touch.” I keep my tone light and casual. “Our first public outing can be Halloween, where we can be photographed together. I can even get a feature about us written in The Valley Voice.”
“Are we really going to let some omega order us around?” Kyro eyes me with suspicion. “We’re supposed to be the alphas.”
“Unless you want me to report on what your brother did at speed scenting in The Valley Voice, I’d think more carefully about how you talk to me—and any omega—in the future.” A loud exhale rushes through my nose. “It’s no wonder you haven’t found a match with an attitude like that.”
Kyro steps forward, fists clenched. I don’t move, meeting his furious glare with icy defiance.
“I’m your pack leader, Kyro. You do as you're told.” Tyler must sense we’re on rocky ground, knowing this opportunity isn’t one to be passed up. “Kady is a Sinclair. If we’re good enough for a Sinclair, think about how many omegas are going to be lining up to court us after a breakup.”
“Hell yeah, brother!” Shea punches the air. “Think of the river of slick.”
Repulsed, I wrinkle my nose then turn back to Tyler who is at least managing to maintain some sense of decorum. “No one can find out this is a fake arrangement.” Not that I think they’ll tell anyone, especially now that I know about Shea’s antics. “Do we have a deal?”
I hold out my hand.
Tyler’s sticky palm clasps around mine. “We have a deal.”
Kyro and Shea chest bump and start chanting, “Omega, omega, omega!” like a pair of baboons.
“Good.” I nod, wiping my hands on my dress. “Let’s stay in touch.”
After quickly exchanging numbers, Tyler grins from ear to ear as he stands on the doorstep, raising his hand in farewell. “We’ll see you at the party, omega.”
Fresh air fills my lungs as I step outside, making my shoulders sag in relief.
“Wear a shorter skirt next time!” Kyro shouts after me. “We like our omegas to show more skin.”
My hands curl into fists. He’s lucky I don’t take a swing and break his nose.
I have a mean punch. Instead, I spin around and pin him with a death glare.
“If you ever talk to me like that again, our deal is off, and I’ll make sure every single omega on Earth knows how much of a piece of shit you are.
Got it?” While Kyro’s mouth opens and closes like a flailing fish, I smile sweetly—just in case we’re being watched by any other alphas.
“Make sure your pups fall in line, Tyler. See you soon.”
Although I’ve got what I set out to achieve, dread churns in my stomach. All I’ve got to do next is make our courtship seem believable, but how am I supposed to pretend that I’m in love with those Neanderalphas?