40. Phantom
Chapter forty
I wake to the smell of bacon in the air, which has me jumping out of bed immediately.
Not even bothering with pants, I rush out to the kitchen, but stop dead, my brow furrowing.
Delilah is at it again, which shouldn’t be a surprise.
But what really has me stopped is the oversized t-shirt she’s wearing and nothing else, as far as I can tell.
“What are you doing up so early, baby doll?” I ask, keeping my voice low but stern.
Delilah looks up at me, and my heart skips a beat. Her stormy grey eyes go wide as she stops halfway between the sink and stove, holding a mixing bowl.
“Pancakes?” she replies, the word lifting sharply in question.
I sigh, but shake my head with a smile. “Ya don’t have to keep doing this for us.”
Delilah’s shoulders slump, a little frown creasing her otherwise perfect face. She tucks the bowl to her belly, clutching it like it’s armor. I take a few steps forward, hands raised in a gesture of peace. As I round the kitchen island, she shrinks back, turning toward the stove again.
“Hey, don’t run. You’re okay,” I soothe, taking slower steps toward her.
She looks up at me with those big eyes, and every wall I’ve tried to put up over the years crumbles.
She’s so soft, delicate, but incredibly strong, and she doesn’t even realize it.
To go through everything she has and not lose herself like so many omegas I’ve seen takes a resiliency that some only dream of.
And to look so fucking beautiful on top of it…
I mentally shake myself as I realize I’m staring, taking a few steps forward to close the distance between us. I hold out my hand for the bowl, looking down at her with one eyebrow raised.
“You’re gonna let me finish this meal, baby doll,” I state, giving her no room for argument.
But to my delight and surprise, Delilah huffs and hugs the bowl tighter, rolling her eyes. And she doesn’t even catch herself and panic this time.
“I’m almost done. And the bacon is going to burn—”
“I don’t think you heard me. I didn’t ask how close you were to finishing, or what else needs mindin’. I told you to sit. And if you don’t do it in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna make sure you sit and stay sat.”
Delilah straightens as I push the tiniest bit of my alpha voice into my words.
Not a bark, by any stretch of the imagination, but it works to get her attention.
I’m slowly counting in my head, waiting for her to make a choice.
But by the time I reach the end, she’s still staring at me, not budging an inch.
I let out a sigh in mock disappointment, shaking my head again. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, baby doll.”
“What—”
Lunging forward, I cut off whatever protest Delilah might have been about to raise, pulling the mixing bowl out of her grip and setting it on the counter behind her. Before she has a chance to react, my hands are on her waist, hoisting her up over my shoulder.
“Put me down!” she yelps, beating her little fists against my back as I take a few steps.
“If you insist,” I reply with a chuckle.
She weighs nothing, so it’s almost laughable how easy it is for me to lift Delilah up over my head by her waist, and deposit her directly on top of the fridge.
It’s not a very tall appliance, as most of us in the house stand head and shoulders above the top of it, but for a little thing like Delilah, there’s really no escape.
It’s either the hot stove to one side, or jumping down and over the garbage can on the other side.
When I step back and admire my work with my hands on my hips, Delilah crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me.
“Very funny. Now get me down before the whole house goes up in flames,” she snipes, more fire in her words than I’ve seen in the weeks since we brought her here.
I step close again, spreading her thighs with my shoulders as I look up at her, a wicked grin on my face. I can smell her better when I’m this close, and there’s no mistaking the chocolate and jasmine aroma drifting up from her core.
“How about I leave you here, and I’ll take care of the cookin’. And if you’re a good girl and stay up here, I’ll give you a nice reward? How’s that sound, baby doll?”
I nuzzle my cheek against her inner thigh, locking eyes with her as I turn my head.
Her breath catches in her throat, a faint blush blooming across the bridge of her nose.
And just to underline my point, I turn my head and nip at the soft skin beside my face, not hard enough to even leave a mark.
But the soft gasp, and the shiver that I feel run through her are enough for me to step back and not feel like I have to immediately keep my eyes on her.
We’re quiet for a few minutes while I slip an apron on before addressing the bacon.
It’s only a little carbonized, but Joker would eat clumps of coal covered in bacon grease if we didn’t stop him.
Thankfully, there’s another batch of uncooked strips so the limp-bacon lovers can get their breakfast protein too.
“How did you all meet?” Delilah asks once the bacon calms down a little.
I glance up and see that she’s pulled one leg up to her chest to rest her chin on, her arms wrapped loosely around it.
What she doesn’t realize is that position also lifts the hem of her shirt, and I catch a good look at the scrap of purple cotton covering her pussy, and the wet spot at the center.
I clear my throat and turn back to the bacon, trying to remember the question, my name, and, hell, anything else to stop my cock from tenting my boxers.
“Uh…it’s been so long now. I met Bones in basic, though. We were battle buddies. But we didn’t meet the others until we left,” I start, keeping things intentionally vague.
It’s too early to explain everything that happened between meeting Bones and both of us going AWOL. Seeing the corruption, the lies, the abuse we had to watch at the hands of our superior officers? Better to be out and on the run than have to answer to monsters.
“Cross said he was in the Navy. Was that your branch, too?” Delilah asks conversationally.
I nod, swallowing. “Almost a SEAL, just didn’t finish the certification.”
“Why not?”
I close my eyes for a moment, turning my back on her as I reach for the bowl of pancake batter.
Memories burst forward unbidden, of being on my way to the final test when I got the call that my sister had been taken without a trace, of begging my SO to give me time to find her.
But I was told it was either the SEALs or my family.
It shouldn’t have been such an easy choice, and despite everything that happened, I don’t regret it for a single second.
“Something more important happened,” I state simply, fishing a ladle out of the drawer before turning back to the stove to pour the first batch of pancakes.
Thankfully, Delilah doesn’t push. She’s remarkably gifted in her ability to recognize the moods and emotions of those around her, beyond any other omega I’ve met before.
“How did you meet your old pack?” I ask, spitting out the first question that comes to mind before I can stop myself.
Delilah sucks in a sharp breath and doesn’t answer right away. I turn and open my mouth to apologize, but the words die in my throat as I realize she’s smiling.
“My car broke down on the side of the road. I wasn’t quite in the middle of nowhere, but you could definitely see it from there,” she starts, laughing at her own little joke.
I chuckle along with her, minding the food even as I give her my full attention. Her voice is so pretty, light and girlish without sounding too infantile. I can’t wait to hear what it sounds like when I finally get a taste of–
Cool it, Connor, I scold myself. You don’t want to pitch a tent this close to bacon grease.
“I could barely get a signal on my phone, and I was going to try walking back to the house I’d passed a mile or two back and see if I could use their phone or their Wi-Fi to call for a tow.
But then a car passed me and pulled over.
A stranger, who just so happened to be best friends with a mechanic in the next town over,” she goes on, speaking more to herself than to me at this point.
I flip the pancakes, giving them a little pat with my spatula.
I definitely don’t miss the way Delilah’s eyes flick down to the stove, her cheeks turning a little pink before she turns away.
God, what I wouldn’t give to be able to read her mind.
What sort of fantasies hide behind those innocent eyes?
What hidden desires would reveal themselves to me, so I could help them become reality?
Naked Memaw, Naked Memaw, Naked Memaw. Nope. Gotta keep it together. At least for a few more minutes.
Delilah clears her throat softly before shifting slightly in place, dropping her leg until her thighs press tight together. Seems like I’m not the only one having a hard time.
“And yeah, the alpha, Roman, gave me a lift into town where I met Isaac, the mechanic at the dealership where they both worked. I didn’t meet Alex until after my second date with Roman,” she says, picking at a loose thread on the hem of her shirt.
Something protective, almost possessive, swells in my chest at the mention of Delilah going on dates with other alphas. I know logically they’re gone and in the past, but my instincts don’t give a damn.
“They treat you right?” I ask gruffly.
If she notices a shift in my tone, Delilah doesn’t mention it, only nodding.
“Yeah, they were good to me. We weren’t rich, but we were comfortable with just their incomes, so I didn’t have to get a job. Keeping up the house kept me plenty busy, I would have had to quit when I got pregnant anyway, so—”
“Would have had to?” I snap, turning to look up at her with my brow furrowed.
She doesn’t look at me and seems to get a little smaller with each heartbeat of silence that stretches between us. But I let her sit. I have a fairly decent idea what she’s going to say, but I want it to come out of her mouth.
“They were sort of…traditional, I guess. I was the pack omega, so I stayed at home. I took care of them and the house. They didn’t mistreat me or anything like that.
But there were certain expectations of me, and one of them was being a stay-at-home omega and mother.
But that didn’t bother me or anything. It’s how I was raised, too,” Delilah rambles, still not looking at me.
I let out a deep sigh, turning back to the stove to remove the pancakes and bacon from their respective pans before turning the range off entirely.
Guilt eats a hole in my belly, blocking out almost everything else as I think back to the last few weeks.
She’s been working herself to the bone, not because she wanted to, or even because we told her to, but that’s what she’s been trained to do.
It was so easy for her, because she’s done it before.
For years, with her old pack and even beyond that if I’m understanding her right.
“I’m sorry,” I say at last, stepping forward toward the fridge, gently parting Delilah’s knees with my shoulders.
Delilah blinks down at me, her brow twitching down over her eyes. “What for?” she asks.
“For the way you’ve been treated since we found you. If we’d known…if I’d known what your life was like before the facility, I would have spoken up,” I say, looking her in the eyes so she can see how much I mean every word I’m saying.
“It’s okay—”
“No, it’s not. You’re not a maid, or a servant, or a slave to your pack, Delilah. That’s not what omegas are meant to be,” I cut across her dismissive words, reaching up to take her hips in my hands and pull her toward the edge, toward me.
Delilah gasps but doesn’t stop me, leaning back slightly to balance on her arms as she looks down at me. The blush is back, and I grin to myself. Guilt still eats away at me for how I let her be treated, but I’m more determined than ever to make up for it with interest.
“Omegas are meant to be worshiped and cherished. And I plan to do just that.”