Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Omen
S aylor has no poker face. She can’t even fake being stoic long enough to beat me at a single round of rummy. Having her here does make passing the time a hell of a lot more enjoyable.
Valor and I go entire evenings barely saying a word. There’s nothing that needs to be said. We have a bond, and on top of that, nothing ever changes in here.
Tossing my discard onto the pile, I can instantly tell it was a mistake by the way Saylor lights up, making a grab for the card.
Valor’s shoulders rise and fall as he silently laughs.
The omega has been quite content in his lap since dinner, and it’s not that I’m jealous.
Valor quite literally can’t leave me out. Our bond will ensure I’m added to any link he may one day form with an omega, but I’ll never be an alpha, meaning I’ll never be able to forge a connection of my own.
The fact she’s sat with Valor consistently through all the games might be rubbing against a few of my insecurities.
Which is ridiculous.
I know how attractive I am.
It’s never a problem to find an interested party when I’d like to blow off steam, and yet, I’ll never be able to offer the physical features an alpha has.
It’s often made me wonder if I’ll lose my best mate when an omega finds their way into our mix.
Omegas are fiercely protective of their chosen alphas, and they’re bad at sharing. If Valor was willing to deal with the agony of a severed bond, he could simply murder me. That would eliminate the problem if the omega wasn’t interested in having a beta in their pack.
I frown.
I’ve had these passing thoughts before, but never before has a pit formed in my gut.
Saylor tosses a run of four cards down and adds her remaining card to the discard pile. “Ha! I finally beat you.”
My hair falls into my eyes as I nod, and I shove it back before dropping my own cards face down. “It appears you did. Congratulations.”
I could have been out two turns ago, but ruthlessly slaughtering her seven hands in a row seemed a bit much for even me.
“Thanks. I was kinda losing hope there for a while.” The omega looks over her shoulder at Valor with her adorable little nose wrinkling. “Hey, why’d you stop purring?”
He shrugs. “I got distracted with watching you play.”
“Oh, I didn’t know it was something you had to focus on.” She laughs, untucking the blanket from around her hips. “I figure your lap has to be numb by now. Maybe I’ll join Omen’s team for a hand or two. If you’ll have me?”
She stands, and my head tilts.
“I’m always up for a pretty woman occupying my lap.” I shove my chair back to give her room.
She grabs the blanket from Valor’s lap and kisses his cheek while she’s bent over. “Thank you for the cuddle, good sir. Let’s see if I’m universally bad luck for either team.”
Valor smiles, but the bond says he wasn’t ready for her to leave him just yet. “Isn’t there a saying about beginner’s luck?”
“Apparently that doesn’t apply to me.” Saylor snorts, carrying the blanket over to stand right in front of me.
I pat my thighs, and she maneuvers herself to sit on my lap. “Sorry, I know I’m bonier than Valor.”
Saylor shakes out the blanket as Valor gathers the cards and begins to shuffle. “I’m heavy. If I get to be too much, just say so.” She wiggles her hips, laying her head against my chest.
My hand wraps around her middle under the blanket. “You’re lucky your arse is protected by my lap, or I’d give you a swat or two.”
The omega glances up at me, despite the awkward angle. “All right, partner. Let’s see if I uphold your luck or ruin it.”
I laugh.
Valor and I play rummy nightly.
I legitimately couldn’t care less about winning—at least, not now.
Saylor snakes her arm under the blanket, patting my hand. Our fingers end up interlaced over her stomach, and my heart beats faster for no good reason.
Sure, I like the way her luscious backside feels plastered to my cock, but I’m beginning to wonder if she sensed my emotions and specifically sought me out to help me feel better.
That would be quite the turn of events…
Wouldn’t it?
* * *
“If you steal the blanket one more motherfucking time…” I hiss, ripping my half of the covers back from Valor. “I will stab ya without a sliver of remorse.”
“Quit your bitching.” Valor grunts. “Is it always this cold in your loft?”
“Why do you think I normally have three blankets?” I grumble, scooting closer to his side. If he would just shut up and spoon me, we could both be significantly warmer. He’s the one who gave Saylor my extra blankets, and if he thinks he’s cold on the inside of the loft, he should try being right on the edge. Not only is it a five- or six-foot drop, there’s also a breeze, which makes no bloody sense, but it almost feels like they’ve turned the air conditioner on. “Just let me cuddle with you. We can pretend like this never happened come tomorrow morning.”
“Shut up,” he whispers. “You’re going to wake Saylor.”
“She was snoring thirty seconds ago.” I scoff, trying not to be bitter.
She’s nice and toasty with five blankets.
Valor valiantly offered her his bed.
I bet she was pleased to be in a semi-confined area while surrounded by my alpha’s scent.
However, I’m miserable.
Valor and I aren’t built to share a queen-size bed. First of all, he’s massive, and second of all, he’s awful at fairly dividing the blanket.
I’d rather have my feet uncovered so I can pull the blanket over my chest and arms, while he would rather have his feet covered and nothing else.
A rustling fills the air from the direction of Valor’s bed, and we both freeze.
Saylor groans, and a few seconds later, there are more noises that sound like she’s tossing off her blankets. The creaking wood that comes next must be her climbing down the ladder, but rather than her feet hitting the floor, there’s a thump that indicates she fell.
“That sucked.” She grunts. “Oh God, hurry…”
I don’t know what that means, so I roll over to face the room, barely catching her back as she bolts for the toilet. The light turns on, flooding the room for a second before the door pushes mostly closed.
Gagging fills the air, followed quickly by heaving that tests how strong my stomach really is.
“What the fuck?” I whisper. “We’ve eaten the same things she has.”
“She stopped suppressants cold turkey,” Valor says, keeping his voice low. “It’s like when an alcoholic stops drinking or an addict goes without a drug. It’s not pretty.”
I’ve seen all that before, but that doesn’t seem fair to Saylor. It wasn’t her choice to stop the medication. The facility doesn’t allow any of the omegas to be on suppressants, since it messes with their impulses to do omega-like things.
“How long will it last?”
Valor shrugs. “There’s no way to tell for sure. Could be a few hours or days. It’s not like I’m an expert or anything.”
“That’s right shitty for her.”
“You should bring her a bottle of water.” Valor gives me a shove. “Maybe check her temperature once she stops retching.”
I dig myself in, making sure he can’t push me off the bed. “Who nominated me to be her caregiver?”
Shite.
Valor has complicated trauma related to watching his aunt wither away with ALS. She was his sole caregiver until she passed when he was seventeen. Well, he spent the last several years of her life caring for her, but she was his legal guardian.
It’s a completely different situation than someone who’s ill with something like Saylor is experiencing, but I can imagine the flood of memories is inevitable.
“Go fucking check on her,” Valor growls, giving me another push.
Only, this time, I’m not prepared for it, and I go flying. Luckily, I rotate in the air, landing on my forearms and toes. My face bounces dangerously close to the floor.
“You’re a bastard,” I grumble, shoving myself up.
“Technically speaking, so are you. Now, check on the little omega.” He has the audacity to wrap himself up in my blanket and roll to face the wall.
He’s a fucking wanker, that’s what he is.
The sounds of Saylor being violently ill make me seriously regret allowing her to be locked in with us. If it makes me a cock, I can accept that, but I know my limits.
I vomit when other people do.
My stomach is far too weak for this shite.
The only thing that pulls me toward the loo is Valor’s discomfort in the bond. I can’t be sure which particular memory he’s replaying from his adolescence, but the spillover in the link sends my gut twisting in knots.
Speaking of knots, I wonder if that’s what Saylor needs to stop vomiting.
My forearm lands against the door, giving it a gentle shove.
The sounds are violent, but I do my best to steel my stomach.
If I’m not careful, I’ll have to shove her out of the way to take her place. Being trapped in here with very limited ways to clean up makes this a dangerous situation. She’s probably going to want a drink that doesn’t taste like utter shite, and while the tap water won’t kill you, it’s not a pleasant experience.
Sighing, I hustle over to the table to grab her a bottle of water. It’s room temperature, but it’ll be better than the alternative. On my way back, I stop at the dresser next to the door where we keep fresh towels, washcloths, extra toiletries, and toilet paper. There’s no storage whatsoever in the lavatory, so we improvised.
Rolling my shoulders back, I venture into the danger zone once more.
Saylor leans against the wall as the toilet flushes. She pulls a hand up, wiping her mouth, and her bloodshot eyes meet mine.
Christ.
She looks rough.
Her cheeks are bright pink, there are dark circles under her eyes, and she has splatters of toilet water on her shirt.
Not that I’m judging.
A very long time ago—three years, to be exact—I got just inebriated enough that I pissed in my mate’s closet, thinking it was the loo. Not my finest moment, by a long shot, but I like to think I’ve grown up since then.
Doing my best to keep my face placid, I slide inside the lavatory and drop the bottle of water onto the sink before wetting the washcloth.
“All right, pet,” I say, keeping my voice low and soothing. “Come here and let me help you clean up.”
“I can’t,” she whimpers. “I think I’m going to be sick again, and everything is spinning.”
Well, that’s no fun.
At least the night of piss-mageddon, I had a grand time.
My old friend, not so much when he woke up to the foul smell…
Right, I have an omega to look after.
It’s only a few steps until I’m at her side.
Holding out my arm, I offer her the wet cloth. “Here. Why don’t you clean your face? Then we can rinse at the sink, and I brought you a fresh bottle of water.” She takes it, and I sidle up to her side, wrapping my arm around her lower back.
Saylor lets me guide her to the sink, but my eyes widen as her forearm brushes mine. She’s burning up , like way hotter than a human being should ever be.
“Holy fuck,” I whisper, grimacing. Alarming her won’t be helpful. I’m sure she knows she’s hot to the touch. “Are you all right, lovely?”
“I don’t think so,” she groans, pulling away from me and planting her hands on the sink. “My eyes are burning, my head throbs, and my stomach is unsettled. Maybe I caught the flu or a stomach virus?”
“Perhaps.” Moving behind her, I wrap her hair in my hand. “Go ahead and rinse your mouth. Try not to swallow. The sink water never tastes right.”
She sways as she leans over, and I brace her hip with my free hand.
Damn.
I thought having an omega was supposed to be glamorous…all pheromones, knots, and heats filled with dirty sex. The other side of things isn’t so pretty, but that’s life in general, I suppose.