12. Archer
Archer
“ W ell I’m happy,” Chase says, “That was totally a successful meeting.”
It was a successful meeting. We walked out of a pretty large corporate building with an officially signed contract for the Ward Security Company’s services.
But for some reason, my mind isn’t focused on that success right now.
All it can think about is a small, doe-eyed, omega with peppermint perfume. The omega that’s back at our pack house. Our omega.
I find myself driving back a bit faster than I normally would, despite the snowy road conditions.
“I’m glad that’s over,” Kane grunts as we pull through the gate of our house.
“Not used to being hungover?” Chase snickers.
Kane just lets out a deep growl, not even bothering to open his eyes at Chase’s teasing. “Fuck off.”
I pull the car into the garage, heading into the house, a feeling close to excitement at being home growing in my chest .
Shock hits me the moment I step over the threshold and into our home.
I was expecting Luna to still be upstairs sleeping, recovering from her ordeal. None of us got to bed until a ridiculous hour and I know the rest of us would still be sleeping if we could. Except for maybe Kane. He always struggles to sleep. But that’s beside the point.
The little omega is sitting in front of the stove, flipping delicious-smelling pancakes.
“Hi!” She says, waving with a spatula in her hand, spinning in the barstool to face us. “Welcome back! Brunch is almost ready, I just have one last batch of pancakes to make.”
“Oh fuck yeah!” Chase says. “This is such a good day already.”
“Are you feeling well enough to cook?” I ask, my eyes drifting down her bare legs and eyeing her bandages.
I need to help her change those later.
“Oh, yeah, thank you,” she says, shifting in her seat. “Madden got me a chair so I don’t stand on my feet too long.”
“Good,” I say with a nod.
I start setting the kitchen counter for all of us to eat. Maybe one day, we’ll actually eat our meals in the dining room, but for now, eating them here works fine.
“I’ll take these,” Madden says, picking up the full serving dishes of food after Luna takes the last of the pancakes off the griddle.
Before Luna has a chance to get off the barstool, I step over to her and carry the barstool, with her sitting in it, over to her place at the counter.
“Oh my god!” She says, reaching out a hand to rest against my chest to steady herself. My heart starts pounding at her touch. I pray to whatever god will listen she can’t feel it under her palm.
“Sorry,” I grunt. “It just looked like you were going to walk.”
“I was going to walk,” She chuckles. “It’s not like I can’t. ”
I set her down, brushing a bandage on her knee. “I don’t want you to tire yourself unnecessarily. Your energy should be focused on getting better.”
A pink blush spreads across her cheeks before she nods, not meeting my eyes.
I take a step back. I don’t want to overwhelm her.
“This fucking smells delicious,” Chase groans. “I’m getting started now, I’m starving.”
“Hey, cool it,” I growl softly, standing and grabbing Luna’s plate first. “Omega eats first.”
Her eyes go wide and she immediately starts protesting. “What? No, please, it’s okay?—”
“You need to eat more,” I say firmly. I’m unable to get the way her ribs stick out far too much in her already small frame out of my head.
“That—that doesn’t mean I have to eat first,” she stutters out, clutching the hem of the t-shirt she’s wearing, still unable to meet my eyes.
Fuck, I need to tone it down.
“Hey, don’t worry about it Moonlight, I’m good,” Chase reassures her. “You cooked, you should get the first serving!”
I fill her plate full of eggs, bacon, and pancakes, nudging the plate of butter and bottle of maple syrup closer to her.
“Thank you,” she says softly. When she meets my eyes, hers are full of uncertainty, as if she’s expecting me to blow up and get mad at her.
Shit.
I know I was a fucking dick last night, but that was because I expected her to be just like every other omega that throws themself at our pack. And by the time I realized she wasn’t, the damage was done.
“You’re welcome,” I say. It’s all I feel I can say. I don’t think there’re any magic words that would make her instantly feel at ease around me. But I’ll earn her trust .
She’s our omega.
Everyone immediately starts digging in, piling food high on each of their plates.
Groans sound from around the table. When I first take a bite of the fluffy pancakes, I understand why. There’s just something about homemade pancakes.
“These are fucking delicious,” Chase groans through a full mouth.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” I chastise.
“They—they’re just pancakes from a box of pancake mix,” she says, uncomfortable with the praise.
“They are very good,” Kane says. “We don’t usually have warm food to come home to like this.”
“Thank you for cooking for us,” I say.
I’m scanning through all those classes I took in college about omega etiquette. Fucking hell I haven’t had to use any of this shit in years.
I do know praise is good.
She doesn’t react the way I thought she would to my attempt at a compliment.
She flinches, sinking into her seat. “You—you don’t have to thank me,” she says softly. “I—I just want to prove that I can be useful, especially if, especially if I’m not?—”
Not on her back. Or bent over. Or whatever twisted way she’s been taught she’s supposed to be for a pack of alphas.
“You don’t have to cook for us to be useful,” I grunt, my voice a bit more gruff than I want it to be.
“I—I want to make myself useful,” she insists, her eyes still stuck on her lap. “I’m grateful for the opportunity you’ve given me and I want to show you all I’m not taking it for granted.”
“And we appreciate it,” Madden says, shooting me a look.
“Yes,” I say, nodding. “We do appreciate it.”
She nods firmly. “I promise I’ll prove myself to you all.”
I want to throttle whoever filled her head with the nonsense that her only place in life is serving alphas.
Omegas deserve to be worshipped. That’s why I’ve never felt comfortable accepting an omega into our pack before. Because they always had unreasonable demands about our pack’s structure.
I’m not going to worship someone who wants my fucking family torn apart.
But this small omega sitting beside me, poking at her food more than she is eating it? She deserves to be worshipped. Every single alpha cell in my body is yelling at me to give her everything she could ever want in the universe and destroy all those who have hurt her.
Melodramatic? Maybe.
But fuck, I can’t get those thoughts out of my head.
“How was your work?” she asks softly, trying to fill the awkward silence.
“Work was good,” Kane answers. “We managed to get a really lucrative commercial deal. We’ll set up security systems for the entire building. Our main focus up until now has been residential properties, so this is a big step up for us.”
“That sounds really good,” she says, flashing him a sweet smile.
The rest of them make idle chatter as we all finish our meals.
“Are you done?” I ask Luna, when the only food that’s left is the food on her plate.
“Oh, I--” the panic on her face is obvious to anyone with eyes.
I reach out to cup her cheek and she flinches before I’m able to touch her as if she’s expecting me to strike her.
Fucking hell.
I pull back my hand, gripping the back of her barstool instead.
“Tell me why you’re upset,” I say, doing my best to keep the anger at her past locked away, keeping my tone soft. “I’m not the best at this sort of thing so you’re going to have to tell me how you feel.”
The rest of the pack are all silent, watching our interaction .
“I—I don’t want to waste food,” she says, her eyes still downcast.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” I say. “If you’re full, you’re full. I gave you a lot.” A lot more than I probably should have, but all I could think about was how hungry she must have been growing up. “It’s not a crime to throw away food.”
“You—you’re not going to be upset?” she asks. “I’m not wasting money?”
“No, and even if you were wasting money, we have more than enough for you to do with what you like.”
She bites the inside of her cheek before nodding.
“Now,” I say, “Are you done?”
“Yes,” she says.
“I can finish your plate if you want,” Chase says.
She flashes him a grateful smile as he takes her plate and starts shoveling food into his mouth.
“You’re on cleaning duty, Chase,” I say.
He gives me a two-finger salute. “Yes sir.”
I stand, looking down at Luna, who’s glancing up at me in uncertainty.
“Your bandages need changing,” I say.
“Oh, if you can show me where the things I need are I can take care of it myself?—”
“No. Let me help you.” I take a deep breath, trying to relax so I stop scaring her. “Please.”
“O—Okay. Thank you.”
I grab the ointment Charlotte left from one of the kitchen drawers and lift her up into my arms before heading upstairs.
“Oh my gosh, why do you all pick me up like I weigh nothing?” she says under her breath.
I hold my tongue before I say it’s because she does weigh close to nothing. Eating more probably wasn’t an option for her. Why harp on something that was out of her control ?
“Your feet are injured,” I answer instead. “Why cause you any pain when we’re all capable of relieving it?”
“Oh. Thank you, then,” she says. “But when I’m better, you don’t have to carry me anymore.”
I would never wish pain upon her, but there’s a part of me that truly hopes she’ll still let me carry her and hold her close, even after her feet heal.
She starts glancing around when I head in the opposite direction of the bedrooms.
“This is the West wing of the house. It’s where all the offices are,” I say.
I walk into my office and set her down on one of my leather armchairs. I pull out the first aid kit I have in one of my desk drawers and kneel at her feet.
“Are—are you sure you want to do this?” She says, shifting uncomfortably.
Her delicious peppermint perfume in a place that is most certainly mine pleases the territorial alpha part of me. Especially when I can smell her perfume sweetening.
So she likes the sight of me kneeling before her. I can work with that.
“Yes, I wouldn’t offer if it weren’t something I wanted to do,” I say, resting a hand over the bandage covering her knee. “This may hurt a bit, prepare yourself.”
She just gives a quick nod, clutching the hem of the t-shirt she’s wearing.
I start peeling off the bandages, revealing extensive scrapes from the gravel of the train yard, all along her knees, shins, and feet. They’ve been cleaned, and luckily, it doesn’t look like there are any signs of infection.
I follow Charlotte’s instructions and start adding layers of the antibacterial cream before re-bandaging everything.
“I—I’m sorry I can’t be more useful,” she whispers as I work .
I glance up at her face to try and gauge her expression. Her eyes are moist with tears and she’s biting the inside of her cheek again.
I stop my work. “Tell me why you’re apologizing.”
She bows her head and closes her eyes.
“Don’t hide your eyes from me.”
Her eyes snap open and her lip trembles. Her scent sours with fear and I let out a sigh.
Fuck.
“I mean please don’t feel like you have to hide your eyes from me. I’ve noticed you do it with me more often than any of the others. When I ask you questions, you’re not in trouble,” I explain. “I just want to know the best way to help you.”
“I--I can’t repay you for all you and your pack are doing for me,” she says, the pools of tears in her deep blue eyes welling over.
“There is no repayment necessary,” I say, my thumb rubbing small circles on her thigh in an attempt to reassure her.
Physical touch from an alpha is one of the best ways to help an omega with emotional regulation, if I can remember correctly.
“But—but I’m an omega,” she chokes out, wiping away her tears. “You all are alphas.”
“Yes, that’s true. You’re still not explaining why you think repayment is necessary.”
She blinks at me in confusion. “My—my position as an omega is to serve my alpha—my alphas. If I’m not to serve you and meet your… physical needs, and I’m not good enough at anything else then how can I serve you?”
“You’re wrong,” I growl.
She freezes and I curse myself again. Fucking hell, I need to work on staying calm when she tells me about her past. I’m doing nothing but traumatizing her further with my inability to keep my emotions in check.
“The people who taught you that are wrong,” I correct.
“The omega-alpha relationship, it isn’t a subservient kind of relationship.
” I scowl. “Or at least it shouldn’t be.
A true omega-alpha relationship is symbiotic.
They both have their strengths and their weaknesses.
They’re two parts of a whole, made to support each other. ”
“I’ve—I’ve never heard it described like that before,” she whispers.
“That’s a shame,” I say, returning to my work, and finishing up her bandages. “You deserve to be taken care of.”