Chapter 21
Theo
I duck a left-hand cross but miss the leg sweep and land on my ass. I'm a better match with Enzo, but Sully and I have been relegated to the basement, sparring and attempting to rid ourselves of the frustration of the omega living in our home.
Her home.
She's only been here for a few days, and her scent has permeated every fiber. It's intoxicating and exciting and infuriating all at once because, for the first time in my life, my game is useless. Getting women, getting laid has always been easy. I barely try. They flock to me because of our wealth and power in this city. I'm good-looking and work hard to maintain a ripped physique. My brothers are all in good shape, but I cater each workout to shape every muscle.
I'm vain as fuck, but it's well deserved. Which is why I've never had to try before Ophelia. But she's different. Not just because she's my scent-match, our mate. She's…
Intimidating.
I don't know how to woo her; nothing works. My careless smile, my usual charm, my endearments. They all make her purse her lips or scrunch her face.
Sully's been avoiding her. I thought he'd last at least a week before crawling back, begging for forgiveness, but the only interactions I’ve witnessed so far were perfunctory and professional, so it’s not looking good. She asked him how the purchase of the C-Block building went and to please keep her informed if she could assist in keeping things moving forward in a timely fashion.
He grunted in response, and they both turned on their heels and stormed off in different directions.
I'd still take that reaction over the ones she gives me.
I don't blame her. I've been angry. I thought I'd started to let it go, but after that disastrous breakfast, I realized how much I'd been harboring.
The hurt in her eyes and the scent of her new bond with Enzo both made me realize I was being a fucking idiot. So, just like that, I let it go.
She's 'making deliveries' tonight and I'm hoping to use it as an opportunity to get her to forgive me, to show her I take her interests seriously.
I don't think any of us ever thought about how hard it is on omegas who don't join the OFA or even on those who do. Ophelia's been opening our eyes to shit we've been ignorant of, and I want to show her I care about her, and her causes.
We've been courting women for years, and each year, things get more and more artificial. It never occurred to me that it might have something to do with the OFA curriculum, what they're teaching the omegas not only to want but to accept: that we alphas are the decision makers and the breadwinners and that it's their job to shut their mouths, make babies, and look pretty.
Maybe peripherally, I'd noticed, but I'd never really examined it.
So while Sully works on learning more about South Loop and ways he can help that don't involve a charity luncheon co-hosted by the OFA and instead, actionable change, I'm determined to learn more about Ophelia's pastime as a drug dealer.
It's a win-win.
The only reason I know she has deliveries tonight is because Enzo, incapable of letting her out of his sight, told us through a group text; Ophelia didn’t even bother trying to shake him loose, so she’s letting him tag along.
Enzo called out of work for the first time, ever. Well, he worked from home, but only because she threatened to start sleeping in her nest alone if he didn't give her space. She's only been here a few days, but she's already the center of our universe.
Our gravity pulls toward her and her alone.
Her things arrived a couple of days ago, and I helped her unpack, regret bleeding into every smile I gave her. Her responses were terse, but we managed to bring everything into the nest, the largest room of our home that's sat empty and unfurnished since we built the place, without getting into any more fights.
I admit, fighting with her is a little hot. But I'd rather fight over the remote or what we'll eat for dinner than this uncomfortable cold war we've got going on.
It all gets fixed tonight, I decide. I don't want to end up like Sully.
We finish sparring, both dripping in sweat, when I bounce happily, renewed with energy and determination.
"Tonight's the night, brother," I tell Sully.
He chugs water from a bottle, downing the entire thing to avoid responding.
"She'll come around. She's just stubborn," I slap him on the back.
"Make sure she's careful tonight. And find out which pills she's been collecting. I have a meeting with Dr. Rubens from the OFA to discuss why these pills aren't readily available for unbonded omegas."
"Why don't you tell her that?" I ask. It's obvious brownie points for the omega who's mad.
"I'm not doing it to make her like me, asshole. It's not illegal for her to take them, so why did she have to put herself in danger to get the pills? For her and others like her? It's supposed to be our job. As alphas, as OFA sponsors."
"She'd want to know," I say. "Not for brownie points. She'd want to be involved."
He presses his lips together, then looks away, grabbing a towel off the hook and wiping the sweat off his neck. "I'll talk to her if I need to. She has a right to be involved. But it's not about her, not really. It's about all of them. It's time we stepped up."
Sully stalks off to the weight-lifting bench, picking up the barbells and lowering down. I could stay and spot him, but Sully can deadlift three hundred without batting an eye, so I leave him to it.
Dressing in my most shady-looking outfit, complete with black pants and a black zip-up hoodie, I sneak outside and wait by the SUV for my little delinquent to join.
After texting Enzo a million times—that mother fucker was probably balls deep in my omega—he finally texts me back and lets me know she's ready to leave.
I climb in the backseat, and when Enzo takes the driver's seat and Ophelia climbs into the front passenger, I squeeze my arms around her from the back.
She shrieks, slapping my arm away. "What the fuck, Theo! You scared the shit out of me!"
I chuckle and pat her cute little head. Her wild hair tufts out of the hood, and I comment, "Hey, look, we match!"
Enzo starts the car and heads down the driveway when she turns in her seat, "Nuh-uh, no way are you coming with us. It's bad enough Enzo's here," she hooks her thumb toward him. He doesn't react, it's unlikely he's offended. But he also knows there's no way in fuck she's ever doing this again without at least one of us with her.
Hopefully, if Sully succeeds, she won't have to do it at all.
"What? Me? I'm just along for the ride."
"Theo."
"Ophelia…"
Her round, ocean-blue eyes narrow, but she flips in her seat, turning the radio loud to drown me out. It's nearly half an hour before we enter South Loop, and she gets him to park outside her old apartment.
"Why are we here?" I ask, climbing out after her.
"I have a routine. I make a few stops. If you're going to add commentary and question everything, feel free to stay behind," she calls over her shoulder and starts walking down the street. We pass the old guy, Waylon, who's got a half-empty 40oz and an upside-down hat a few streets away. Ophelia tosses some cash in his hat, then I do the same, before we continue our trek.
She tells us this is a little earlier in the night than usual because her contact at the heat clinic changed her shifts. The news didn't alarm Ophelia; she said the nurse, Janey, changes shifts pretty often but that she'd normally do the drops later in the evening because that’s when most of her clients are out and about.
Since we're with her, she wants to at least swing by Queenie's to offload most of the pills before calling it a night.
We follow Ophelia, and when we get to the heat clinic, I witness her and Enzo's first real fight. She flat out refuses to allow him into the building. After a few minutes of cajoling, with Janey getting involved, Enzo finally relents.
I lean against the old brick building while he paces, shoving his glasses back up his nose, looking the most ruffled I think I've ever seen him.
"This the first time you've separated since you bonded?" I ask.
He pauses his pacing. "Yes. In public, anyway."
"You know… it's gonna—"
"I'm aware. I know it's going to happen again and more frequently as time passes. It's just… difficult. I find myself attached in a way I never thought possible. I think it's been more than five minutes. We should—"
"No, brother. She's okay. And the more you cling, the more it's gonna piss her off. Coming from someone on the receiving end of her ire, trust me, just let her be. I mean, you're lucky you didn't scare that nurse off altogether. If Ophelia hadn't told her you were newly bonded, it looked like she was about to throw Ophelia out, too. Looks like the nurse is taking some risks here. Just be cool."
Enzo ignores me and resumes his pacing.
Another minute later, Ophelia steps back out, immediately embraced by Enzo. She doesn't look annoyed, taking his possessiveness in stride.
She hikes her black backpack up a little higher on her shoulder, brushing off Enzo as he tries to take it from her, and continues her adventures into the night toward the strip club.
I wasn't lying when I told her I felt like we weren't bad-boy enough for her. She comes from a neighborhood where people are tough and hard. Their life experiences, her life experiences, are so different from ours. Not that I don't think we can hold our own—we definitely can—but it's different from what she grew up with.
I try to take it all in stride as we continue, finding ourselves in the alley outside Queenie's. I'd popped into the club to get eyes on her once or twice while she was working, but it's a whole new experience coming in now like this.
We ignore the scantily clad, half-naked women in the hallways and follow Ophelia to an office, where she knocks twice and lets herself in.
An alpha with a shaved head and neck tattoos glances up. His intensity rivals Enzo's, but his expression softens when he sees Ophelia.
Enzo growls when he stands, and it takes me by surprise. Enzo is an alpha, through and through, but before Ophelia, he never really acted like one. More like a beta—even keel, less aggressive, less possessive or territorial. I guess it was all in the reserves for when he met his mate.
Ophelia ignores him, and, to my surprise, so does the new alpha. Most might posture or be confrontational.
"Iggy, this is my mate Enzo, and Theo."
She didn't say mates, plural, but I still appreciate her including me in the sentence. Iggy nods, but his dead-eye stare doesn't look past Ophelia's bag. He doesn't make eye contact with us and doesn't respond to her. She acts like it's normal, so we go with it.
Iggy is like her brother, I remember. He, Caspian, and Red are of the Dante Pack. They own Queenie's and, from what we've been able to gather, are the unofficial leaders of South Loop. Like old-school mobsters, they offer protection and hustle right alongside the residents.
They do seem to be just as involved in omegas’ rights as our girl, despite the admittedly ass backwards way of showing it by running a strip club.
It's the last thing you'd expect, but maybe that's the point.
Iggy says very little, but his stance warms when he and Ophelia lean in to say goodnight after exchanging a bag full of pills for cash.
Damn, Sully asked me to find out what she was selling. Oh well, I'll just ask her later.
We follow Ophelia out the door, the smell of sex and pheromones ripe in the air. It makes my skin itch. I haven’t had sex in way too fucking long, and my alpha hates that she works here, around all this. I’m tensing, drawing Ophelia’s attention.
I assume she's going to scoff or roll her eyes at my reaction then drag us out of here, but then I realize she’s just as affected as I am. Her pupils are dilated, pretty pink lips slightly parted, then they lift in an evil little smirk.
Ophelia sticks her head back in the office door and calls to Iggy, "Is room six empty?"
We hear a simple 'yes' in return, and instead of pulling us back out into the night, Ophelia turns down a darkened hall, passing bouncers and strippers, men and women, before disappearing into a room.