9. Zoe
Zoe
“Are you okay?” My voice is barely above a hiss. Some base part of me is worried that Cameron is following behind us, listening in.
Cliff rubs his neck again, but there isn’t a mark for him to soothe. It’s more like he’s feeling the ghost of the other man’s hand.
“Yeah. I could have knocked him off, but he caught me by surprise. What the fuck was that?”
Cameron is significantly smaller than Cliff, and I found it odd that he could move him around like a rag doll. If it weren’t such a dangerous, impulsive move, I might have found it attractive.
“I don’t know. We were talking about the Gods, and he seemed nice. He invited me to dinner. And then you showed up.”
“And he flipped out.” He exhales sharply, pulling me to the side of the Hub.
Our hands are clasped, that warmth from the first time I touched him grounding me.
People are filtering in and out of the building, but no one pays us any attention.
“Zoe, that Alpha is dangerous. You probably shouldn't spend time with him, especially not alone.”
“He’s an Alpha?”
“You couldn’t tell?” I had faith in my ability to identify designations until now.
The man was slighter than I expected Alphas to be. He was delicate. What kind of beast could a man like that have? If anything, I would’ve pegged him as an Omega.
“No, I couldn’t. But I haven't met many Alphas."
“With a reaction like that, I'd wager that man does not have good control of his beast. I'd feel better if you avoided him."
Cameron did just hold Cliff to a wall by his throat. That doesn't inspire confidence in him being a safe person. I’m not trying to get torn apart by an Alpha without any control.
I don’t expect the question that falls from my lips. “Will you walk me home?” I’m not afraid, not exactly, but I also don’t want to get caught alone by the Alpha.
The Beta’s smile is shy as he ducks his head with a nod. I never would’ve expected someone as large as him, who looks so tough, to be shy.
“Yeah, sure. We’re going in the same direction.”
We walk without speaking, enjoying the mild evening. The sun has fallen below the horizon, but the sky is still full of the remnants of its descent. People walk lazily around us, in their own worlds as much as Cliff and I are in ours.
He's the first to break our comfortable silence. “How did you meet Warren?”
“Oh, we’ve known each other since we were babies.
Our moms are best friends. We’ve done everything together our whole lives.
” I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from wrapping my arm through Cliff’s.
I want to touch him again, to feel the strange warmth run through my body, but I don't have a reason to, so I keep my hands to myself.
“So you’re together?”
The question doesn’t sound entirely innocent. There’s an edge to Cliff’s voice that I don’t quite understand.
“Why?”
I don’t know why I don’t tell him right away that we’re not.
Maybe it’s because, in the back of my mind, I always assumed that Warren and I would end up together, so saying no feels like it's not the whole truth. But there is nothing happening between us now. There’s no rush between us.
At this point, we're pretty much a forgone conclusion.
“Just… Are you?”
“No. We’ve never gone there with one another.” I stop walking and place my hand on Cliff’s chest, halting his stride. “Why?”
“I wasn't in the library because I'm working tonight. Warren asked me to give him the room.”
For a moment, there is a swirl of hurt in my chest. But I’m not allowed to feel that way. We’re not together. Nothing is stopping him from dating someone. Shit, I agreed to dinner with Cameron before we went off the rails.
But still.
This is the first time I’ve been told about his dalliances directly. When we were at university, it was a topic of conversation we'd avoid. It felt almost taboo to discuss.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. I figured, since he told me to stay away from you, that you two were together.”
It takes me a moment to process his statement, but when I do, the small hurt I felt is replaced by anger. “He told you to stay away from me?” And yet he brought someone home? Who does he think he is to be making decisions like that for me? I can see whoever I want.
We’re outside our building now, but neither of us is making moves to go inside.
“Maybe I misunderstood him. I wanted you to know, in case you two didn’t have an open relationship.
I thought, since he asked me to avoid you, that he didn’t want you to know…
” His words trail off for a moment, and he runs his hand through his hair.
“Polyamory requires communication and consent, and I didn’t like the idea that he may be sneaking around that. Sorry if I overstepped.”
“Do you wanna come to my room and study?”
Maybe I should try to process how I’m feeling about this whole thing, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to examine the fact that I feel more betrayed by Warren asking Cliff to stay away than I do about him bringing someone back to his room to fuck.
Cliff nods and enters the building without a word.
He leads me up the stairs, and as I follow him, I can’t help but admire the sight of his thick thighs, clad in a pair of black linen pants that stretch across his firm, rounded behind.
He’s got a thick waist, big arms, and broad shoulders, making him shaped more like an Alpha than a Beta.
He’s deliciously masculine, with a square jaw and a beard that is the perfect length and meticulously manicured.
When we get to my room, and he steps aside so I can unlock the door, I have to duck my head so he doesn’t see how flushed my cheeks are from checking him out.
After we get settled, me on my bed and him at my desk, I realize he has nothing to study, and yet he came back with me anyway.
It’s fine, I'm not feeling like studying anymore.
“Do you know what kind of job you want once you get done with school?”
He rests his elbow on the desk and props his chin up with his hand. “My parents own a bakery, so I’m gonna work with them and balance the books, track inventory, that kind of thing.”
“None of the baking, then?”
“Absolutely not. I still haven’t heard the end of the time I burnt the cake for my sister’s birthday.” Though he’s talking about being chastised and teased, a sweet smile is on his face. It's obvious that there is no shortage of affection for those he left at home.
“You have a sister? What’s she like?”
“Spoiled rotten. She’s fifteen, and has convinced herself she’s going to be an Omega.
” He kicks his shoes off so casually, like he’s done it a thousand times before, that the little bit of tension I was carrying from having him in my space dissipates.
“No matter how many times I’ve explained to her that there is no way to predict who the Gods will Bless, she won’t hear it. ”
We never spoke much about the God’s Blessings in my home. Both of my parents are Betas, and since it’s the most common designation, I never even considered being anything else. The few times it came up, Mom was quick to remind me I had no control over it.
When we studied designations in primary school, we did so through rose-tinted glasses.
Alphas were strong protectors, there for us when we needed assistance.
Omegas were beautiful and delicate, and essential for the Alpha's well-being. Without an Omega, they’d tell us, Alphas were unable to reproduce, their mental health was terrible, and their beasts could get sick.
Omegas were made out to be like angels, swooping in to save our Alphas so they could keep society running.
And then there’s the Betas—the backbone of our realm.
If I have to hear that phrase again, I’m going to pull my hair out.
“I doubt being an Omega is all it’s cracked up to be.”
He holds his hands up in agreement. “I tried to tell her that, but she thinks it sounds like the best designation. Since I came here, I’ve been vocal to her when I write home that she should not wish for that life.”
“Is it that bad? I have yet to see one of the Omegas.”
“That’s just it. No one sees them except at the presentation. What kind of life is that? Are they even allowed to shift? I know they have smaller creatures, but they still deserve to fly, swim, and run.”
My insides grow tight at his words. “Are the Alphas allowed to shift?”
“As much as they want. Maybe the Omegas get to go out and do it sometimes, but I doubt it's enough. Who decided that they're safer living in a bubble? The whole thing leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”
My mouth feels almost sticky at the revelation, and it’s hard to form the words I want to say. Eventually, I pull my legs to my chest and rest my chin on my knees. “Mine too.”