11. Zephyr
Zephyr
The omega. We can’t just keep calling her that. But walking in the hallway from Prez’s office to the elevator that leads to the hidden underground bunker isn’t exactly the place to say ‘Hey, honey, what’s your name?’ So I keep quiet and follow her, Fox, and Lazarus to the elevator.
Mayhem and Revenant split to head back to their apartment with a grumble about facing the wrath of their mate. Evangeline is a fierce omega who we’ve learned, now that she’s accepted them as her mates, is increasingly territorial of them.
It’s not an uncommon trait among omegas, but given how much she fought against being theirs . . . I wouldn’t have expected it from her.
The scent of the omega, sweet like honey and cider, is lessening as, presumably, a wave of heat dies off. She seems a lot more with it as she looks around, her eyes clear and her breathing steadier. The frantic tension oozing off her has stopped, for now.
Should we try questioning her again? No, the president gave orders. We’ll just get her through this.
Fox leads us over to the elevator bay. Inside the elevator is a keypad that grants access to the basement. He enters first, then holds the Door Open button, making sure the rest of us follow.
The omega looks suspiciously at the small chamber of the elevator. It’s big enough that we can bring a whole hospital bed in and out of here in a hurry. There’s no reason we can’t all fit in here together.
“Uhm.” She looks around hesitantly.
“It’s an elevator? You haven’t seen one before?”
“It’s been a really long time. I guess.” Her big, beautiful, doe-like brown eyes look back at me.
“It moves between floors of the building. It’ll take us down to the basement. We have nests set up for omegas who are to be trafficked. It has our clinic for medical things. Trust me?” I offer my hand out to her.
“I don’t like small spaces.” She nibbles on her bottom lip, but the omega places her palm against mine, and I help her step across the small gap.
Lazarus crosses the threshold behind her. He’s wearing his ‘disapproving’ look that makes an appearance when we’re annoying him.
But I can empathize with her. I don’t want to go into this small space either. I don’t want to go down to the bunker with no windows, no way to escape. I already spent months locked away.
She doesn’t want to be locked up either. ‘Sequestered’ is what she called it. The way she pleaded that she’d be good stung like knives pushed into my chest.
Gods know I prayed to be let loose. All the times in solitary confinement, where I asked the Gods to never separate Phoenix and me again.
Fox sighs, and it’s a bored sound, but he presses the button combination to access the bunker.
It’s a short ride down to the basement, and when the elevator bobs at the bottom, the omega nearly falls. She clings to her chest, right over her heart, and the sharp scent of fear blocks out her sweet honey-cider scent. I hate not being able to smell the sweet scent over the sour fear.
Phoenix is quick to support her. He whispers, “It gets easier the more you do it.”
We quickly file out into the hallway, and Fox leads the way to the clinic. As a doctor, it’s his domain and where he’s most comfortable.
Phoenix stalls in the doorway of the clinic. “What if we keep her?”
The little omega’s eyes flick up to Phoenix and then over to me, waiting for an answer.
“We can’t just keep an omega we just met.” I shake my head, but then he pulls her to his chest.
The curvy little omega fits perfectly in his arms. She’s soft in all the places he’s hard, and I put myself in his shoes as if to hold her. Gods, she does look perfect.
“No.” Lazarus shakes his head. He places a hand on Phoenix’s shoulder. “You cannot keep this omega. You need to get her through her estrus so we can determine what she knows. That was the agreement.”
The little omega’s breathing becomes more labored; she leans into Phoenix’s body a little more.
Phoenix gives me that look. Defiance and mischief. The idea is tempting, but it’s impulsive. It’s reckless, but it’s too reckless for us. I shake my head. “We don’t know if she’s a match. It’s better to wait.”
He huffs but concedes without another word.
We finally step into the clinic, and Fox is already drawing liquid from a vial into a syringe.
“Just racking up the points this year, taking away our chance to claim an omega and the chance to get an omega pregnant.” I try to laugh off the stress of the room.
Fox just grins and fills another syringe.
When he’s done, he throws a clipboard at Phoenix and chucks a pen at me.
“Paperwork.” Phoenix groans. “Let us get to the good part already.”
Fox pats the bed and gestures for the omega to hop up onto the exam table.
She looks at me with uncertainty. I give her a little purr. “He won’t hurt you. It’s just two shots.”
“I don’t know what that means.” The omega shakes her head but obediently climbs up onto the table. Her fingers go to fidget with the side seams of her dress.
It’s such an odd dress, long and covered in little flowers, and the cuff of each sleeve and the skirt hem have white lace. It’s also too big for her. Her curvy frame is drowning in the material. I can’t wait to get it off her. To get her into our clothes instead.
Snatching the clipboard out of Phoenix’s hand, I hop up on the bed next to her and sit cross-legged. “You can watch Fox give me one first. It’s not scary. It hurts just a little bit, but it’s a second and it’s over.”
The omega nods, and I shrug my sweatshirt over the top of my head, pulling my T-shirt back down before shoving the sleeve up, exposing my bicep for my older brother.
He works fast and efficiently. A swipe of disinfectant, a quick jab, and he’s done, not bothering with a bandage as my shadow presses against my arm, tending to my ‘wound.’
“Oh, that doesn’t look —” The omega bends forward a bit, perspiration breaking out at her hairline.
Another spike of heat rises in her system. It draws Phoenix closer to her. Even Lazarus shifts as if interested in soothing her.
“So, the first question kinda seems obvious, but we don’t know. What’s your name?” I click the end of the pen against the clipboard, making the writing tip come out.
“You’ve said it. I thought you knew.” She looks to Phoenix, and her body becomes more rigid. “How would you know though?”
“I don’t know your name.” Phoenix cants his head, taking her in. His shadow moves up along her body, trying to comfort her. “I called you honey, but that’s just a nickname.”
“No.” The omega shakes her head.
Fox approaches her with both syringes. She looks at him, and he shakes his head, pointing back to Phoenix.
She looks away as instructed, closing her eyes. “That’s my name. Honey.”
She gasps in surprise or maybe just a little pain, and Fox doesn’t hesitate, following one poke with the next before putting a bandage on her skin.
“It’s a pretty name,” Lazarus says from where he’s leaning against the desk.
Despite not being bonded to a pack and unable to truly heal someone else, Phoenix’s shadow pulls the bandage off Honey’s skin, trying to mend her.
Until we’ve bonded to an omega, our shadows’ ability to heal is exclusive to the alpha they belong to, and even then, they’re limited.
Something about an omega’s light feeding into the bond strengthens our shadows.
One day, when we bond with an omega, it will make sense.
For now, we just let our shadows do what they can.
“Thank you.” Honey’s response is borderline robotic.
I jot her first name down on the form. “Do you have a last name?”
“Do monotheists not have last names?” Phoenix looks at me and then to Lazarus. “Does Laz have a last name?”
“Yes, we have last names. Yes, I have a last name.” Lazarus crosses his arms. Fox approaches him with a syringe, and Lazarus stiffens. He tries to wave Fox off. “It’s not necessary.”
Why is it not necessary? Doesn’t he want to? He should be a part of this too.
Fox rolls his shoulders back like he’s willing to force the issue.
“I know you’re following orders, but it is simply not necessary.” Lazarus and Fox lock into what almost feels like a staring contest, but when push comes to shove, Fox wins.
Lazarus looks away, and he shrugs out of his zip-up hoodie to allow Fox access to his arm.
I turn back to Honey. “So . . . last name?”
“Momma’s last name was St. Pierre.” Honey answers.
Lazarus stiffens. His whole body tightens and then slowly relaxes. “Omegas aren’t allowed to know anything beyond their mates,” Lazarus shakes his head. “She might not know who her Sire is. We’ll have to find a way to get her information from the community or give her a new identity.”
“That sounds weird,” Phoenix mutters.
I leave the field blank and go through some of the next boxes I can answer just by looking at her: hair color, eye color, and I approximate her height based on how tall she was when she walked with us.
Omegas are always female in the same way alphas are always male, so that’s another easy check mark.
I bypass her weight, knowing Mom would never forgive me if I asked that aloud.
“Birthday?” I try for one more field on the form.
“I don’t remember, sometime in the spring. The seventeenth of a month.” Honey shakes her head.
She hasn’t argued about the last name thing and seems content to let Lazarus talk for her. Did they not let omegas talk where she’s from?
“They’re not celebrated.” Lazarus draws a slow breath with a pensive hum. “How old are you?”
“This will be my second fifth season and the twenty-first celebration of the Lord,” Honey answers very formally.
“She’s twenty-one, and this is her tenth heat cycle.” Lazarus translates those words, and I do the quick math and write down a year for Fox’s recordkeeping. After a moment, Lazarus comes up with a question. His jaw grinds before he asks it. “And you’ve been sequestered for each one?”
“Yes.” She draws slow breaths between words. “They were waiting for me and the next apostle to be together. I was to be pure for him.”
Lazarus looks between us Barons, first to Fox and then at Phoenix and me. He growls but cuts it off. “She’s always gone through estrus alone.”
Even Fox makes a funny face at that information. My jaw drops. Phoenix reaches toward her like he’ll rip her away from the terrible past.
It must have been excruciating for her. No wonder she doesn’t want to be alone.
Honey groans and curls into a ball, muttering to herself.
Her honey and cider scene, gets stronger, and added to it is the scent of slick.
It’s intoxicating. All the dirty things I want to do to her flood my brain with each inhale.
She doesn’t have to go through that alone anymore.
We’ll help her. We’ll give her everything she needs, keep her fed, keep her clean. Our omega.
Lazarus pushes off from where he’d been leaning against the desk and takes a step toward her. Then he stops himself, tucking his hands in his pockets.
Fox writes out on the whiteboard, “I’ve given her a glow blocker that should protect you from accidental bonding. It could make her groggy for the first couple days. Make sure she eats to help it metabolize.”
He makes sure to show it to Lazarus, who gives a single, solemn nod.
“Yes, Fox, we get it. No bonding the omega.” I hate that he’s handling us with kid gloves, again, still? Like he ever stops.
Fox rolls his eyes and erases the board but doesn’t move to write anything else.
In seconds, Phoenix scoops Honey up from the exam table. She wraps her arms around his neck and nuzzles in, her omega instincts taking over.
My cock throbs seeing them together. He’ll take her back to our room and make her feel good. Then it’ll be my turn.
I hadn’t realized how bad I wanted an omega until now. I’ve been on the government’s industrial strength rut suppressants for just under three months. Apparently, six days after the biggest dose of drugs designed to keep alphas from senselessly fucking is enough time for it to wear off.
Phoenix walks quickly out the door to the elevator as he whispers to Honey. I want to know what he’s saying. Is he talking dirty to her or reassuring her she’s okay? Both?
I try to grab Lazarus, to bring him with us, on my way past, but he peels my fingers off his forearm. “Go tend to the omega. I’ll be up to make food for the three of you.”
Stopping, I circle back to face him. “We want you part of this.”
Lazarus shakes his head. “I didn’t agree to that.”
“You just got the injection.” I argue, reaching for him again.
“I did what was ordered of me.” Lazarus lets out a low growl. His shadow, which was tamed to the ground, curls up around his body into the serpent ready to strike.
Lazarus doesn’t use his shadow, not on a daily basis, so it being poised to strike me is out of character.
I back away from him, startled by the way he’d choose violence toward me.
We’ve been living together for the last six years.
Phoenix and I had assumed that he truly wanted to be in a pack with us, despite his protests that we weren’t one.
It’s not like we’ve ever had anything sexual between us, but he has no problem accepting hugs and sharing food. It was his idea for us to move in rather than the other way around. We feel like a platonic pack, a pack like Family Baron has.
Now is the chance. A little bit of time, and we can see how it goes.
“Go,” Lazarus growls.
I follow the path Phoenix took, still uncertain about the exchange we just had, but the scent of omega slick pulls me away from Lazarus’s rejection and draws me to walk a little faster.
Conflicted emotions from Lazarus and the future slowly bleed out of my mind as I focus on what is to come.