Chapter 17
Magnus
I’m surprised it took this long for Cato to get handsy with Hestia.
I’ve seen how he acts since she joined us. He’s always circling her, tracking what she’s doing.
Still, I thought he’d be off like a shot once we went on break. Yet he spent all day with us (with Hestia, really), and even after we put her in bed last night, he didn’t leave.
I’m not sure how long he can go on like this, but unless he starts showing symptoms, I’ll leave it up to him to manage.
I don’t want to be the one to ruin his happiness. Cato seems to really like Hestia, and I don’t want to remind him he can’t have her. That should be Orion’s job as pack lead, and I’m going to be selfish and leave it to him.
Though if I ignore the broader context, it’s amusing watching Orion jealously watch Cato flirt with Hestia, while Hestia is seemingly unaware or simply pretending that Cato is just being friendly.
I’ve seen how she acts with him, too. Hestia blushes and pouts at his teasing, but she can’t take her eyes off him for long.
As entertaining as it is to watch Orion struggle to hold himself back while Cato has no such misgivings, the joke is on me too. I can’t be with her either.
For today though, no one will know if I pretend we’re a happy pack decorating for Yule with our omega. I’ll keep my hands to myself, unlike Cato, so my little fantasy won’t hurt anyone.
Hestia is playful with him, but that doesn’t mean she wants to join our pack.
I’m sure she’s struggled enough to be taken seriously in this field.
I don’t want to ruin things by letting on that her bosses are interested in her, even if we like her for who she is and not because she’s an available omega.
We’re not allowed to date subordinates anyway, so it’s best to keep my feelings to myself.
Hestia laughs at whatever Cato whispered in her ear, distracting me from the depressing turn my thoughts have taken. Her laughter is warm, like the fire flickering nearby.
I’m going to enjoy today to the fullest, even if it involves a little delusion.
I hand her another ornament, and her big doe eyes dilate as she looks up at me. Her scent gets stronger too, sweet like fruitcake with a little spice mixed in.
Maybe I’m only imagining that last part, my delusions in full swing thinking that she’s just as attracted to me.
We installed a “better” air filtering system, and secretly I’ve been glad that our new system is just as shitty as the old one. It means the filters haven’t been able to completely wipe away her scent.
I’ve never found an omega who smells as good as she does. It’s the best thing I’ve ever smelled.
Her scent has been driving all of us crazy, though we haven’t admitted that out loud. Instead, we suddenly decided it was time to upgrade our HVAC system. We bought a top-of-the-line, industrial-grade one that’s supposed to filter out hormonal scents, the same kind they use in hospitals.
That marketing was obviously a lie, because Hestia’s scent lingers around the station just as much as before.
She hasn’t complained about living in a building covered in another pack’s scent.
We got suppressants and switched to high-strength descenters before she moved in to make things more comfortable for her, but that doesn’t do much for removing our scents from the station, and the air filters clearly aren’t up to the task.
I’m sure it was an adjustment to get used to the scents of alphas hovering just outside her door. Though with the way she’s looking at me now, Hestia doesn’t seem to mind.
She takes the ornament from me, her small hand appearing even smaller next to mine.
I watch as she carefully places it on the garland before leaning back to inspect it.
I hastily bring my hand up to hover behind her back in case she leans too far. Cato still has his hands on her hips, but I can’t help the protective instinct.
I love working closely with her like this. I’d been avoiding her because she seemed afraid of me when we first met.
It wasn’t enough for fate to scar most of my body.
I kept growing, and growing, until reaching my current giant stature.
Either of those things tend to make people nervous, but combined, well, I don’t blame people for staring or moving out of my way.
With how some of them react, I can only assume they think I got all these scars in knife fights or bar fights with broken bottles.
I’ve never been one for fighting, that’s Cato’s thing. The one thing my looks are good for is preventing fights since even alphas assume they’ll lose.
It’s not their reactions that bother me though. It’s the nervous and scared scents of omegas when they see me that agitate my alpha.
Like any alpha, I want to help omegas, instincts urging me to fix whatever’s upsetting them. In this case, the only solution is for me to stay away. It’s a confusing mix of push and pull, which results in me feeling even worse. That’s why typically I avoid omegas as much as possible.
When I heard our next trainee was an omega, I panicked.
My packmates reassured me everything would be fine. Our omega trainee would get used to working with me just like everyone else. We’ve had plenty of nervous trainees before.
Despite their reassurances, I had several days of quiet panic. I finally decided I would just avoid her when we’re not on the clock until she got used to being around me.
Hestia never had that fear scent, but she stumbled away when we picked her up that first day, so I assumed her descenters just covered it up.
Now, I think she might actually enjoy spending time with me. She even made sure to get a photo with us, pouting so cutely when we didn’t immediately join her. I’m glad Henri suggested it because now that’s my phone background.
Once Hestia decides the mantel is done, we move on to the tree.
We get the tree in the stand and pull out the lights. Hestia tries to help, but Cato sets her on the arm of the couch.
“I can do it too!” she says.
“We’ll get the lights on and then you can do the fun part and decorate it,” Orion says.
Hestia huffs but stays put.
We get the tree covered with cozy white lights in no time.
Charm and Henri come in just as we finish, Henri still brushing wayward snow off his curls.
“Were you able to get everything done?” Orion asks quietly while Hestia is distracted looking at ornaments with Cato.
“It’s all set up,” Charm whispers back, and Henri nods.
“What did you set up?” Hestia asks, making us jump.
Somehow she teleported over during our brief conversation.
I glare at Cato. The one time we needed him to keep her attention.
“The, um, other decorations. We put up a few things around the station we didn’t think you’d want to be involved in. Hanging wreaths on doors and—and putting garland on the banister,” Henri says quickly.
“Oh, okay! I’m happy to help with anything though,” she says with a smile.
Henri and Charm join us now that they’re done with our surprise.
Cato picks Hestia up so she can hang ornaments on the higher branches, and Orion pretends he doesn’t see it.
She hums along to the music as we work. Her scent spikes whenever we get close. It plays right into my fantasy, our omega happily decorating our home for the holidays.
I’m not playful like Cato, but I still orbit around Hestia, moving closer whenever I see an opportunity, brushing her hand when I give her an ornament.
But all too soon we’re done.
We stand back while Hestia inspects the tree. She fluffs a branch here, adjusts the lights or decorations there.
“It looks…amazing! It’s perfect!” Hestia says with a huge smile.
I relax now that our omega approves of our work.
“It’s beautiful,” Orion says.
“You did a great job styling it,” Charm says.
“The best tree we’ve ever had,” Henri agrees.
“Don’t be silly, most of these are your decorations. I’m sure your Yule tree always looks good,” Hestia says, but she’s pleased and blushing all the same.
“Are you ready for a break? We can have lunch in here to enjoy the decorations,” Orion says.
Hestia agrees, and Henri tells her to relax while he gets the food.
Cato is quick to slide in next to her on the couch. I take her other side, and Hestia smiles up at me.
“What’s your favorite winter food? I love the sweets obviously, but roasts and soups with homemade bread are so comforting,” she says, leaning so close her leg presses against mine.
It takes a second for my brain to restart, and I reply, “I love stews. They’re simple and easy, but always delicious. My favorite though is fruit preserves, especially when they’re made into something like fruitcake or mulled cider. Growing up, those were the best winter treats.”
Hestia blushes and looks down. Maybe I shouldn’t have specifically mentioned foods that smell like her scent, even though it’s the truth. Those have always been my favorite.
Henri brings lunch in, baked potato soup with fresh bread. I put my arm around her as I reach past her for my plate. She doesn’t move away, so I leave it there. Maybe I can be smooth like Cato.
The others talk about their favorite winter foods, but I’m more focused on Hestia than the conversation.
She stays tucked against my side while we eat. I hardly notice the taste of my food, too distracted by the feeling of her body against mine, even though it’s through several layers of clothes (since some of us wear shirts).
I wonder if she notices we’re acting like interested alphas rather than teammates.
Surely it’s obvious with all the ways we’re trying to provide for her, touching her and complimenting her.
She even called us out on the “best tree ever” thing.
Although the tree does look better than it ever has. Hestia truly has an eye for design. The station has never felt so much like home.
Maybe I am just an alpha in love.