Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
Playing: “Fortress” by Bear’s Den
When I start waking up, there’s only confusion.
Like after a night of heavy drinking, you feel disoriented and wonder what the hell happened last night.
That same feeling courses through my bones now as I come back into reality, the sun poking through the window and almost hitting me in the face.
I don’t even remember getting home last night.
But then my eyes open, and my senses start to pick up on things, triggering memories from the night before. My time with the guitar player of Sacred Sound, the cramps, and even Kit bringing me home.
The watermelon aroma on the sheets and the presence of mutual arousal take me back. The pain and heat, and then the utter relief after he took care of me. I can still feel him inside me, the memories sacred despite being muddled by the unexpected heat spike.
My body is sore in the most delicious way, but my heart pumps with anxiety. I make a weird noise, my grogginess leaves me unsteady as I try to sit up to get a drink of water.
Before I can dread reaching over to grab something to drink, there’s a bottle put to my lips. I drink it without question, taking in the liquid as I quench the thirst that arose overnight. When it’s empty, the bottle is discarded, and I finally smell the sweet aroma that haunted my dreams.
“I must have been slacking off if you woke up that thirsty,” Kit jokes, and my body stills.
His tone is playful, nothing like the suspicious one I expected.
Still, I’m afraid to look at him, to see the questions planted behind his eyes.
He must have them. Unbonded omegas don’t have heat spikes.
Bonded omegas don’t even have heat spikes the first time they have a heat.
“Opal?” he says when he notices my unease. “Please look at me. Everything is okay.”
My head shakes back and forth on instinct, feeling the need to flee. My fight-or-flight mode becomes activated, but all I do is freeze. My heart beats wildly in my chest, and my omega whines from the stress she feels coursing through me. I can’t help the tremble that takes over my body.
“Baby.” He scoots closer, and even though I can’t stand it, his proximity and scent help to lull me the tiniest bit.
“I don’t know what happened.” I pause, trying to search my brain for literally anything I can use. Any excuse or reason that can explain why last night happened. “Maybe I had too much to drink.”
“Opal.”
I shake my head. “Too much adrenaline, or too much alcohol. Maybe my temperature just had a hard time regulating from being at the bar—”
“Opal,” he repeats, and something in his tone breaks through my spiral. When I look at him, his eyes are kind but also aware. “It’s okay. I know.”
My eyes bug out of my head as I blanch. My head moves back and forth even faster now. “Know what?”
He sighs gently. “I know about your—”
“Stop,” I hiss out of instinct, my heart nearly skyrocketing out of my chest. This can’t be happening. Why is this happening? “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Whatever you were about to say, don’t.”
He gives me a look, one that I would think is out of pity if I didn’t know this omega as well as I do. It’s sympathy, through and through. His eyes trail over my face, recognizing how hard this must be for me to hear.
“I’m not going to treat you any differently,” he says, like he knows it’s something I need to hear. “I’ve known for a while.”
Everything seems to halt as confusion fills me. “How?”
Kit moves his hair out of his face, the dark strands stuck in weird places from sleep.
I take a moment to mourn the fact that I can’t even appreciate it fully, not with the serious interaction going on between us.
“I was going to be a doctor, Opal. I had a hunch when you got sick and said medication couldn’t help, but then I saw you take your pills one morning and it sent me down a rabbit hole. ”
I curse at myself. I normally took my pills in my room, but I didn’t want to take any chances after the day I forgot a dose, so I started carrying them with me everywhere. “Maybe you didn’t go down the right rabbit hole,” I suggest, grasping at straws.
Kit gives me a weak smile, one that says he wishes he could brush this under the rug for me but he can’t. “You have Hyper-Hormonal Omega Syndrome. I saw the inhibitors for it; they match your capsules.”
The fight fizzles out of me. I’m not sure what to say or how to even begin explaining myself.
It’s a big part of my life, and I’ve kept it a secret from everyone close to me, besides Cindy.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s upset with me for keeping this from him, especially since he could have been helping me.
But instead of anger or disgust, Kit’s expression bleeds with compassion. He wraps my hand in his and squeezes steadily, anchoring me to him. When he speaks, it’s slow and purposeful.
“I’m sorry this happened to you, Opal.” His free hand comes up to my cheek, his eye contact holding me hostage, but it’s not uncomfortable.
I feel sick with Stockholm as he pierces me with his gaze and tells me everything I need to hear.
“You don’t deserve to live like this. No omega deserves this. I’m so sorry.”
My eyes sting as tears form at his words.
Throughout everything, I’ve felt so alone.
Too worried that my family will be concerned, too scared that everyone will treat me differently.
When I told Cindy, and her reaction was a monotone apology and immediate brainstorming, I felt grateful.
But now, as Kit pulls me into him and offers support, I realize that all I really needed was a hug.
It’s like a rubber band snaps out of place.
I fall apart as I let quiet sobs break free for the first time in a long time.
With somewhere safe to land, it’s finally okay.
The fight in me dissipates, leaving only the grounding presence beside me, willing to take this on with me no matter what.
And even though there’s still a tiny bit of fear, there’s also some much-needed relief.
When my tears fade, and I can finally breathe once more, I gather the courage to finally confess everything I’ve been keeping in.
“I got diagnosed last year. I started having hot flashes and extreme fatigue. I was dealing with them, but when the migraines started, I knew I had to figure out what was going on. I spent more time in my bed than anywhere else. It was absolute agony.”
Kit nods along to my words. “And… your diagnosis. It’s the reason why you started going on blind dates, isn’t it?”
I frown. “I forgot I told you that. But yes, it’s the reason why I started going on dates.
It’s also the reason why I’m on blockers.
” I wince because it’s a partial truth. “That awful date when that alpha was saying all sorts of vulgar things about my scent… it was because my scent was heightened from my condition. It was fuller than other omegas that night. He commented that I smelled like I could go into heat any moment, and it frightened the shit out of me.”
The omega beside me lets out a low growl. “That’s revolting.”
“I know.” I try to force the memories out of my head. “So, I gave up and went on blockers. But yes, I was trying to find a pack. I wanted to be prepared.”
What a joke that was now, after what I experienced. I turn to Kit and rip the Band-Aid off. “My efforts were in vain, anyway. I had my first heat last Spring.”
His scent sours, dousing the air with sadness. “Opal—”
“It’s fine,” I assure him, although I know it’s anything but. “It happened. I wasn’t prepared, and neither was the system. We’re all just flailing around, trying to figure out where omegas like me fit in.”
Kit angles his body further to look at me. “I know where you belong.”
A tiny laugh escapes me. “Where?”
“Here,” he says. “With us.”
The amusement dies as I stare at him. He’s serious, and I want nothing more than to agree. To confess my other secret and admit how much I want to be with each of them, but I hold back. There’s too much vulnerability going on, and I can’t bear to let more seep through the cracks.
“I really believe you’re meant to be here,” he repeats. “That you’re meant to be with us, Opal.”
I don’t mean to, but I gulp. The sound is loud between us as I shake my head in denial. “I don’t know—”
“Opal, did you really think you could be this close to all of us and not make our instincts go haywire?” he asks sincerely, his head tilting to the side.
I give a pitiful, weak scoff. “I don’t think Sam has any instincts when it comes to me.”
Kit sighs. “Sam has this idea of how our pack should be. He thinks if anything strays from that, then he’s failed as a prime. But I know how he feels about you.”
I don’t let myself feel any hope from that statement. “It’s still just wishful thinking, Kit,” I tell him.
“And I’m never going to let you suffer through that again,” he continues as he cradles my face in his hands once more.
“Last night wasn’t just me helping out my friend.
It was every bit as instinctual as it would have been with Sam or Thatcher.
Please believe me. I am here for you, I am going to take care of you, in every single way you need. ”
My omega loves the sound of that, but my logical brain can’t fully accept it. “Kit… you don’t have a knot.”
He nods. “I know, but we will figure it out. Everything you need is right here, if you can accept it.”
I take those words in and hope blooms in a forbidden part of my chest. There’s nothing I want more than to be with him, but there’s also a fear lodged deep into my psyche, one that I cannot fully relinquish.
I lean into his touch, reveling in the closeness obtained these past few days.
“You’re my favorite person I have ever met,” I tell him.
He smiles, his scent falling back to a sweet baseline. “You’re my favorite person, too.”
Confiding in Kit feels like growth. I’m not sure what kind, yet, but it’s a step in the right direction, down a path I didn’t even know I was allowed to go down. It feels freeing. Not having to hold in my faults, having someone there to watch my back, is everything to me.
And as we curl back up in the comforter that smells of us, I realize I’ll never settle for less again.