3. Rome
3
ROME
I arrived home to a cat on my doorstep.
James and I didn’t have a cat.
Surely it belonged to someone? It looked extremely well-fed. Shiny gold eyes and glossy multi-colored fur.
I stared at the overgrown hairball.
He/she/it stared back.
I couldn’t fucking believe I was stuck in a staring contest with a stray cat and about to lose.
“Shoo,” I commanded.
The cat’s nose twitched and I was certain that was the equivalent of it laughing uproariously in my face.
Our front door swung open suddenly and I jumped.
(The cat didn’t).
My bonded beta stuck his head out and smiled when he saw me.
“Rome! I thought I heard you,” James beamed. He noticed our unwanted visitor and his eyebrows flew up to his hairline.
“Oh my god, it’s happening, I can’t believe it,” he muttered urgently. “Rome, it’s Felix. ”
“Who?”
“Please tell me you haven’t been that unobservant.”
I couldn’t because clearly I had been.
“Felix is the mayor, Rome,” James said slowly. As if that explained everything instead of being even more confusing.
“What? Then who the hell is the guy we met when we first moved here? What’s his name, er?—”
“Stanley.”
“Yeah, him.”
James waved his hand. “He’s mayor too but Felix is really the people’s mayor if you know what I mean. Don’t you remember him at the town meeting we attended?”
If James thought I was able to process anything during that clusterfuck of new faces and names, then he would be sorely let down.
“He was there?” was all I said.
“Yes! They couldn’t come to a decision about the width of the parking spaces. That’s what that laminated sign is for — so he can cast the tiebreaker vote. But he couldn’t because he was sleeping. Don’t you remember?”
I rubbed my eyes furiously with my knuckles. “I thought they were referring to the old man who was snoring under his hat.”
“No, babe, that’s Hank Prescott.”
Sometimes I was very grateful for the way James adapted so easily to new situations and tried his best to help me keep up. Even if sometimes I felt like I was being buffeted violently trying to hang onto a speeding car.
“Ok,” I sighed. “So we have the cat mayor on our doorstep. What do we do about him?”
“He’s chosen our home to sleep at tonight. Marisol told me about it when she brought her bulldog in for a check-up. Apparently he’s been missing all autumn and only recently started house-hopping again. It’s a big deal, Rome,” James emphasized, adjusting his glasses.
I stared at him aghast. “So we're supposed to let a strange cat rub itself all over our furniture?”
At that moment, our neighbor’s door opened. Logan Bennett was such a huge alpha his shaggy head almost scraped against the top of the frame. There was a neatly wrapped present in his hand. He noticed the three of us and gave a polite wave.
“Hey, you got Felix tonight,” he observed. “Congrats.”
“So this is just widely accepted, is it?” I questioned.
James ignored me. “Hey Logan, do you know if he’s been fed?”
“Oh, we’re feeding him now, too?” I crossed my arms.
I may as well have been talking to a brick wall.
“Beats me.” Logan shrugged. “But he’ll meow like he hasn’t either way. Do you need his food? I always keep some cans for when he stays with me.”
“Thanks Logan.” James pushed past me. “I might take you up on that, we weren’t prepared at all.”
“What the fuck is happening,” I hissed under my breath.
Felix was watching me. Looking outrageously smug. This was getting out of hand. I bent down, getting eye to eye with him so I could lay down the law. Man to…cat.
Only to be hit with a burst of Ivy Winter’s delicate gingerbread scent.
Fuck.
It had been months since I first scented her and it hadn’t lost its allure. Not one bit. In fact, I think it was getting worse.
My alpha was driven to the point of distraction by it lingering in the halls of the school. Being able to help her with the miniscule task of carrying her fish tank today was like a feast for my caretaking instincts.
I almost scent-marked her when we stood under that umbrella together today. My fist curled, nails digging into my palm as I held myself back from running my cheek along hers and shrouding her in my scent.
I wanted to say it was just biology. But there was nothing biological about why my eyes always tried to find her telltale brunette bob in a crowded assembly. Or why my heart and lungs felt crowded whenever I saw her going the extra mile for the students, whether they were hers or not.
I didn’t know how to explain why her periwinkle blue eyes felt like a lightning strike every time they met mine.
Ivy was empathetic, thoughtful and so goddamn brilliant. How could I make sure her shine would never be dulled? I almost pulled out of the Preston Eberhart grant when I realized she had applied as well. The principal admonished me for that. Something about maximizing our chances.
I got the most irrational surge of jealousy that Felix had been cuddling with her. And judging by his implacable expression, he knew how I felt and did not care.
“The bed is off-limits,” I ordered him crossly. “And no scratching the new couch. Capiche?”
Felix yawned with his whole body, stretching nearly the entire width of the porch. He shook it off before striding purposefully through the open door with his tail regally in the air.
James returned with the cat food. “Where is he?” he asked.
I flicked my head inside. “I laid down some strict ground rules first,” I added.
James’ kiss might have had a tinge of exasperation to it but the way his palm slid down my back was all love.
“Regrets?” he asked after we broke apart.
I loved having a bond with him. Loved the insight it gave me to his emotions. I understood exactly what he was asking, his thoughts settling on the town and our decision to move.
“Never.” I smiled.
Despite the strange cat that was now eating from a bowl that I had to remind myself never to use again, I was content.
I’d grown up in a pack. An omega mother, four fathers and enough siblings that our first home had extensions on the extensions. My Sri Lankan father may have given me my last name but I was lucky enough to be raised in a wonderfully chaotic mix of cultures and influences. It was normal to see feijoada next to mackerel curry at the dinner table. The sound system bounced between the rhythmic samba of Brazilian pop and 80s power metal. Sunday football bled into T20 cricket matches. Our backgrounds were all so family-oriented my childhood home was always brimming with extra people.
My dads said that one day my mom put me on her lap while she played piano and I grew up stuck to the keys. It never felt like enough and I picked up a guitar soon after. Dabbled in brass briefly. Music gave me calm, my family gave me love and the small town they raised me in kept me safe.
Then we moved. I was thirteen. Two of my dads had jobs so lucrative it was worth taking the whole pack family along like a great big traveling circus. Their contracts ended and we moved again. And again, until I didn’t know where home was anymore.
I spent a lot of my teenage years lost and angry. Angry that my fresh starts always seemed to come with the grime of judgment — my name, my skin, my interests. College in New York was deliberately chosen, yet it didn’t make it right . I eventually grew, uneven and odd-angled, out of whatever childish whim drove me. I finally let go of the feeling I was chasing that had no name.
Along came James. Right on cue, the way everyone said it happened when you stopped looking. The same, strange jolt of fate struck me again when I saw the job listing for a music teacher in Starlight Grove.
I had never even heard of the small town before.
When my offer came through, I made sure to check they had a vet clinic before I told James about it. It wouldn’t be a home for me if it wasn’t also a home for him.
“You wanna run away with me?” I had asked after I finally shared the news.
James didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Always.”
I bonded him that night. Kissed and loved that bare spot on his neck before letting my teeth mark him as mine.
The moment I set foot in Starlight Grove, I felt like I could breathe. The static in my head went quiet.
James and I settled ourselves on our couch in front of the TV. Felix hopped up easily and rolled himself into a furry puddle between us. James did a double take as he smoothed down Felix’s patchwork fur.
“Is it just me or does he smell like…gingerbread?”
Betas took a little longer to pick up scents compared to alphas and omegas. I was surprised James could detect Ivy on a freaking cat.
I wasn’t sure what possessed me to send Ivy James’ way this afternoon. Maybe I was desperate to know what he thought of her.
“Sneaky bastard must’ve snuggled with her before he came here,” I muttered.
James gave me a meaningful look. “You know, we’ve never courted an omega together.”
Knowing we were on the same wavelength lit a spark of satisfaction in me. I did want a pack to call my own. So did James. Our relationship had always felt like the first links to something greater than the two of us.
But not yet.
“I want to be more established first.” I heaved a sigh, my fingers plucking restlessly at the edging of the couch cushion. “We’ve only recently settled in. If we’re going to do this, I want to be able to do it properly. Provide her with everything she needs.”
James didn’t look convinced. “Ivy doesn’t strike me as someone who wants stuff , Rome,” he said reproachfully.
I didn’t know how to explain it wasn’t just about stuff . It was my alpha not wanting to settle for anything less than the absolute best for her. I’d grown up seeing how my dads doted on my mom, and how much her happiness meant to them. How was I meant to do anything less for my own omega?
Ivy needed dates tailor-made for her. An extravagant nest. Courting presents.
Probably another alpha too, especially when she decided to have heats.
“Let’s just see what happens,” I mumbled.
James went silent but I could feel a yearning, complex emotion weighing on his heart. “She’s beautiful, Rome,” he finally said.
“Yeah, I know.”
She’s everything.
At least…I think she could be.
Felix began to purr, the soft continuous hum hitting some magical frequency that loosened all the tension from my limbs.
“So, er, did Marisol mention if Felix ever chooses a house twice in a row?” I whispered.
James laughed, the feel of his delight bubbly in our bond. He leaned over and kissed me. My hand curled around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as his lips perfectly fitted with mine. “Love you,” he said, before settling back onto the couch.
I guess I would have to wait until tomorrow night to find out.