Chapter Six – Lev
Monroe is stony silent in the driver’s seat of the car. Redd, on the other hand, looks like he wants to puke out the window of the passenger’s seat. I’m sitting in the back behind Monroe, so I can see the fretting alpha perfectly.
I didn’t like the fact that he’s been so torn up over what happened.
He made a mistake, and as much as some mistakes hurt, they happen.
What matters is how you react in spite of those mistakes, how you fix those mistakes—and that night, after we went home, I’m not going to lie, I was a little worried we’d never hear from the omega again.
But we did. We got a message from Delilah saying she wants to see us. Delilah and Alabaster Security are letting us meet with her at N.O.A., something they don’t normally allow.
We aren’t wearing tight suits like we were that night.
We’re in our normal clothes. Jeans and plain shirts.
Nothing too fancy. Still, I feel underdressed, considering the circumstances.
I don’t know what to expect once we get there, but we were told someone from Alabaster Security would bring us to the omega.
We still don’t even know her name. How crazy is that?
Betas don’t often end up in alpha packs, which means we don’t often get omega mates. If she’s Redd’s scent match, though, that means she’s ours. She’s meant to be ours. There’s no denying that.
The car ride is eerily silent, and after a while, we pull up to the front of New Omega Academy. Monroe parks the car and turns the engine off. I think we all heave a collective sigh before we get out; each of us is wrestling with our own worries and anxieties.
This meeting could go really well, or it could go terribly.
It’d been a week since the mixer on Valentine’s Day.
I assume we had to wait so long because many omegas here had accepted offers from packs and had probably moved out already.
Had to give it a little time so things could cool down around the academy.
We approach the front door, where someone is waiting for us just inside.
A receptionist smiles at us and makes a call.
Shortly after that, an alpha wearing all black with a badge saying Alabaster Security on his arm comes strolling out of the nearby hall.
He’s tall, like most alphas, with thick black hair and striking blue eyes.
He has an almost crazy look about him, and that look does not diminish when he introduces himself.
“Warren Alabaster,” he says with a nod. “You three must be the alphas I’ve been told to watch. You ready for your little date?” He grins at that, as if he finds it amusing. Maybe he does. Something seems a little off about him.
Monroe nods. “Yes, we’re ready.” Beside him, Redd is in a constant cycle of flexing and unflexing his hands.
Warren smirks and gestures for us to follow him, so that’s what we do.
He leads us through the halls of N.O.A., eventually taking us to the center courtyard, an area surrounded on all sides by the building.
A few large trees dot the green area, along with a few benches here and there.
The sun shines brightly overhead, birds chirp, and insects buzz.
And amongst the greenery, beneath the largest tree, sitting on a blanket on the grass, is our omega.
Her pink hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and she wears all black, absentmindedly picking at a fray in the blanket below her until the breeze blows and carries our scent to her.
I don’t smell her at all—or it’s my beta nose not being as strong as an alpha’s.
The second she smells us in the air, her head snaps up and she turns her head toward us, her eyes widening.
I didn’t get to see her at the mixer. I don’t remember her being in the group of omegas that entered. She must be good at blending in, which is a ridiculous statement, because she’s stinking gorgeous.
“Aight, have fun, but not too much fun. I’ll be right over here, watching to make sure you three are gentlemen.” With that warning, Warren moves to stand near the door we just came out of, leaning on the stone wall of the building, our guard for the date.
“Deep breaths,” Monroe mutters under his breath. I listen to his instruction, breathing deeply, but I can tell Redd is already hooked. I don’t think the other alpha is breathing at all, even as we walk over to the omega and sit down with her.
I let Monroe and Redd sit closer to her. We sit in a circle, a little haphazardly since the blanket isn’t quite big enough to fit the four of us on it. I can’t complain, though; sitting where I am, I get to stare right at her pretty face the entire time.
“Hi,” Monroe says.
“Hi,” she says back, sounding a bit awkward.
I skip the hello and give her my name, “I’m Lev. That’s Monroe. And that’s… that’s Redd.”
Her eyes are a dark brown, so warm. She wears no makeup at all, and yet she’s utterly perfect. Her voice is quiet when she says, “I’m Dulcie.”
Dulcie. Her name even sounds like love. I don’t know how the others are feeling, but I’m itching to scoot closer to her, to weave my fingers through hers and feel her soft skin. If she’s making me, a beta, feel this way, I can only imagine how Monroe and Redd are feeling, especially the latter.
Now that we’re closer to her, I can smell her omega scent. It’s a delicious fruity aroma, wafting up to my nose even when the wind doesn’t swirl around the courtyard. A sweet, sugary scent. Strawberries, maybe.
Monroe looks to Redd. Although he’s the pack leader, Redd is her scent match, so he had a few extra things to say.
Namely, more apologies for what happened at the mixer.
Redd had spent a lot of time practicing said apology this past week, but from what I can see, it looks as though the alpha is tongue-tied in the face of his scent match.
Because of that, our pack leader coughs.
Redd finally takes the hint, and he holds Dulcie’s stare when he says, “I’m sorry.
I… I didn’t mean to walk away from you at the mixer.
I hurt you. I hurt us both.” This doesn’t sound like the perfectly-worded apology he’d spent all week on.
She must be scrambling his brain—something I couldn’t blame him for.
“Everything I say is just an excuse, I know, but I swear on my life, on my packmates’ lives, that I’ll never walk away from you again…
if you give us a chance, I mean. If you don’t want to, then—”
Man, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him stumble over his words so much. Even when he’s trying to block out the rest of the world, he’s never acted like this before. Dulcie and their innate connection must really have gotten to him.
Dulcie must sense he’s going to ramble on, for she speaks, “It was a lot. I didn’t even want to go. I’m not… those types of scenes aren’t really my thing. My friend got me to sign up and go. I—” She almost sounds nervous to admit this part. “—don’t really like change, so I get it, kind of.”
I’ve been around Redd long enough to be able to pick up his body language and understand what he’s thinking. When she says that, I immediately note the way his top half leans a little closer to her, how his shoulders relax a bit.
“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m so sorry.”
Something passes between them. I don’t know Dulcie well enough yet to pick up on her thoughts, but as she and Redd stare at each other, I can pick up on the overall mood.
Safe to say we began this little date all anxious in our own way, but as she and Redd hold each other’s stare, they relax, and because of that, Monroe isn’t so tense, and neither am I.
And then, eventually, she whispers, “I forgive you.” Just three tiny words, spoken so delicately, and yet I’m fairly certain they hit each of us like bricks. Those three words come with so much more weight than they have any right to: hope, promises of the future, and so much more.
Monroe picks up the lead in this conversation, “So, Dulcie, why don’t you tell us about yourself.”
She shrugs, as if there’s nothing to tell. “I’m not that interesting.”
“That’s not true,” I quickly say, causing her dark eyes to flick to me. I like it when she looks at me, I decide. I’d like it even more if she was closer to me—say, on my lap. But that’s getting ahead of myself, I think.
“You don’t know me,” she says. “I hate change. I don’t do well in social situations. That’s pretty much it.”
“Come on,” I say with a small smile, “there has to be more to you than that. What are you good at? Any random skills?”
She seems to think about this for a while. Her legs are tucked beneath her backside, making her appear smaller than what she is, and she already looks small. As an omega, she’s even smaller than me. If she joins our pack, which I sincerely hope she does, I won’t be the smallest one around anymore.
Eventually, she says, “I’m good at being invisible.”
Redd’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
Again, she shrugs. “When this was Solus Academy, before management changed, there were stories of what happens to omegas once they’re old enough.
They were basically sold off to whoever could pay for them, like this was an auction house and not a school.
You didn’t want to be one of the ones who got picked.
I learned young that sometimes, it’s best to not stick out.
Don’t cause trouble. Don’t make scenes. Don’t speak.
Just… blend in and keep your head down.”
The more she says, the sadder it makes me feel. The others, however, get angry. Not at her, but at what went on here in the past.
Monroe frowns. “That’s not right. None of that should’ve been happening.”
“I know, but it’s not like we could do anything to change it,” she says. “It’s not happening now, so… that’s good.”
“What about the other omegas that were sold off before this place became N.O.A.?”
“I think Alabaster Security is trying to find them, but our old headmaster didn’t really leave paper trails, I don’t think.” Her thin shoulders go up and down once.