Chapter Six – Warren
I sit in the front passenger seat of our SUV, my right knee bouncing. Nic is standing outside, watching the door to the Omega Garden, waiting for our new omega to show herself. Then he’ll be a gentleman and open the car door for her—and probably shut it, too.
Nic is the nice one. Darius is the aloof, serious one. Me? What I am depends on the hour. Sometimes I’m the comedic relief, other times I’m the cold-hearted psycho who tends to take torturing a little too far. Right now, though, I’m a monkey in nice clothes, with skin so itchy I’m ready to strip right here in this goddamned car.
God. I need to get out of these fucking clothes. Putting me in a suit is like putting a cat in a cute sweater. It looks funny, is hella uncomfortable for the cat, and there are a lot of glares involved from the cat’s side.
When I called Darius and told him about Nic going to put in an offer for an omega, there was more unspoken than there was said, but I felt his annoyance radiating through the phone in my hand, could practically feel his glare on me.
Darius is our leader, and he doesn’t think our pack dynamic needs an omega. There are plenty of alpha packs out there who never end up with an omega—sometimes they put themselves on a roster for omega heat houses, or they ask to be temporarily mated to an omega who’s refused to be forever locked to a pack until they have a child.
It’s not pretty, but it works.
Sometimes, when omegas are in alpha territory twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, things happen. Bad things. Accidents. Things that aren’t accidents but are described that way for the benefit of the police report.
We’re strong, us alphas. We don’t like being denied or told what to do. That can be a recipe for disaster. I know it more than most. It’s why I was adopted into pack Alabaster to begin with.
Though I try not to pay attention, I can’t help but notice when the omega walks out. I turn my head, thankful for the tinted windows on the car as I watch her head down the stone stairs and right for Nic.
Mercedes.
Mercedes Solus.
She still wears that deep red dress that clings to her curvy body in all the right ways. She stumbles a bit coming down the steps, and it makes me think she’s not used to walking in heels—I suppose she wouldn’t be, coming from Solus Academy.
I wonder if she grew up there or if she ended up there after her parents died. Or maybe she was given up, and once her omega nature was revealed, she was transferred out of whatever orphanage to Solus Academy, who specializes in omegas.
I’m curious about her. It’s not a crime. And, obviously, she’s gorgeous in a way omegas always are—maybe even more so. In fact, in that ballroom, none of the other omegas even drew my eyes. Mercedes is ahead of them in that respect, at least.
Nic probably smiles at her as he opens the car door. She refuses to give him her bag, clinging to it as she ducks into the car and scoots into the middle of the backseat. Her amber eyes rise to meet my stare, and she quickly looks away, acting nervous. You’d think she’d be happy to land a pack like ours. To go from Solus to Alabaster is quite the transition, one most omegas could only dream of.
But with her posture, with the way she hugs her old, ratty backpack to her stomach, she makes herself look as small as possible, like she doesn’t want the world to notice her.
Nic shuts the door once she’s safely inside and hurries around the SUV to hop in the driver’s seat. He gives her a dimpled grin in the rearview mirror and says, “Ready to come home, Mercedes?”
She doesn’t say a word. She only nods once, and I can’t tell if she’s that nervous or if she’s regretting her decision.
Hey, she was the one who wanted to come home with us tonight, with nothing but the bag on her lap and the dress and heels on her body. We could’ve picked her up at Solus Academy tomorrow or even next week, given her some time to get her affairs together and say her goodbyes.
But, I realize as I settle into my seat and stare hard at the street ahead, maybe she doesn’t have anyone she wants to say goodbye to. Maybe she has no affairs to get in order. Maybe she just wants to be done with her old life.
I can’t blame her. I understand what that’s like.
Nic glances at me as he drives. He might be all warm smiles and welcoming arms, but he’s nervous, too. In all honesty, the past few years he hasn’t quite been himself. Tonight I saw a side of him I haven’t seen in a long time, real smiles whose purposes weren’t to hide.
Nic doesn’t like letting other people know he needs help. I suppose we’re all like that, deep down. A curse of being an alpha.
Our home is a good thirty-minute drive. We don’t live downtown; we live in a lush neighborhood where the streets have no painted lines and the houses are far enough apart there are no sidewalks. It’s a nice, quiet area, as private as you can be while still being relatively close to the city.
It’s a big house, and it’s probably going to shock Mercedes. Coming from nothing to having it all will be a culture shock for the no-name omega. I wonder how long it’ll take her to start to like it.
Having money really does make everything easier.
“We’ll get you situated in your room tonight,” Nic breaks the silence of the car. “And then tomorrow we can run out and get you everything you need. Clothes, whatever toiletries you like, and anything else for your room you need.” When she doesn’t say anything to him, he adds, “I want you to feel comfortable enough to ask for things if you need them. Money isn’t really an object for us. It’s time we put some of it to good use.”
Finally, Mercedes says, “Okay.” And that’s it, that’s all she says, and she says it so quietly it’s hard to hear her.
Any omega should be thrilled to come home with a pack like ours. Granted, we’re down one member, but that’s no reason to be so down in the dumps and unhappy. If she didn’t like us, why did she accept and want to come home with us tonight?
Neither Nic nor Mercedes talk after that, and with the radio silent, the car ride is, in a word, miserable, so after a while I start to hum a silly little song as I tap my hands on my knees in an effort to keep myself distracted over how itchy my skin feels and how confused I am over the omega in the backseat.
Nic glances at me, but he says nothing. I can tell by the look on his face he doesn’t know what I’m humming, so I decide to sing it for him: “I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts. There they are all standing in a row. Big ones, small ones—”
My singing must leave something to be desired, because Nic talks over me, “Warren, when we get home, you’ll show Mercedes to her bedroom while I go talk to Darius.”
I sigh and stop singing. “Fine, but after that I’m going to strip out of these damn clothes and burn them in the firepit outside. Next person who tells me I need to dress up is getting a fork in the eye.”
Unless I’m mistaken, I’m pretty sure I hear Mercedes try to hide a giggle.
Nic, on the other hand, isn’t so amused by my comment. He shoots me a glare and whispers, “Please, don’t… just don’t. No stabbing anyone in the eye with a fork.”
“You know, you and Darius sure do like telling me all the things I can’t do.” I lower my voice, mimicking Darius’s deep tone, “No, Warren, you can’t threaten the head of Alpha-kinetics with a butter knife to the knee. No, Warren, you can’t put up a sign in the front yard that says trespassers will be caught, hog-tied, chained to the back of an ATV, and pulled along the road.” Those are just two off the top of my head. In my normal tone of voice, I say, “Maybe it’d be easier if you guys started to tell me the things I can do. It’ll probably save us some time.”
“Okay,” Nic says, playing along. “How about: be normal, hmm? You can be normal, you know.”
“Normal,” I echo. “What’s the point of being normal when everything that’s awesome and cool in this world is the opposite?” I turn around and meet Mercedes’s wide-eyed stare in the back. “What do you say? Would you rather be normal or awesome?”
Her reply isn’t what I expect: “Uh, are those the only two choices?”
Her retort makes Nic chuckle, and I frown at her. “Yes.”
She thinks on it. “Normal,” she finally settles on.
“See?” Nic says, triumphant. “Even she knows. Get with it, man.”
“I will not,” I say. “Admit it, you and Darius would lose your minds if you two didn’t have me to lighten up the mood every now and then. He’d be all doom and gloom while you’d be… well, you.”
“The way you say that, it sounds like an insult.” All I do is lift my eyebrows at him, leaving him to draw his own conclusions, and he whispers, “Ouch. Thanks for that.” To Mercedes in the back, he says, “Ignore him. He’s… well, you can see.”
She nods sagely, like she’s taking notes.
For that, I’m going to burn these clothes I’m wearing extra hard.
The drive between downtown and our home is one we’ve taken countless times before, but now that we have an extra passenger in the back, it’s obvious the change in scenery is impressive to someone who’s not used to it. To go from tall skyscrapers to mini-mansions; I’m sure it’s the opposite of what she grew up with at Solus Academy.
She clutches her ratty bag harder as we pull into our driveway. The house sits pretty far back off the road. A four-car garage that holds our vehicles and my motorcycle is attached to the house, angled slightly away from the road so the big garage doors aren’t all you see as you drive by. The house is three stories tall, with impressive windows all around. White with black trim, it’s pristine and neat all at the same time. We have quite a few acres, too, along with a nice pool and an even nicer patio in the back.
And that fire pit that’s calling my name.
We pull into the garage, and like the gentleman he is, Nic leaps out of the SUV once it’s off and hurries to open the door for Mercedes. He offers her his hand, but she doesn’t take it. She does, however, reach down to slip off her heels, and the moment her feet are flat on the concrete floor, she sighs a sigh full of relief.
And, damn it, that sound stirs something in me. So soft, so feminine, hearing her sigh makes me want things I shouldn’t.
I’ve seen what happens when an alpha loses control. That could never be me. I won’t let it.
“Here, I’ll take those for you,” Nic says, but she steps around him, swings the bag over her shoulder, and holds onto the heels herself.
“No, that’s okay,” she says.
Nic glances at me, and all I do is shrug. Can’t force her to let him carry her shit. Nic’s just going to have to learn how to handle some rejection—ironically enough, from the omega he picked.
He leads her inside the house, and I follow from behind. Mercedes is the omega in this alpha train, and from my position behind her, I get a whiff of her scent every time I breathe in. And, damn it all to hell, she smells delicious. Absolutely tempting in every way. Sweet, like candy, but with a hint of fire nestled deep down. The scent of temptation made flesh.
Damn it. It’s going to be hard to stay away from her.
We enter a small hall that eventually leads to the dining room and then the kitchen. Nic glances back at Mercedes and asks, “Are you hungry? I know it’s late, but I could make you something—”
She shakes her head no, and that shuts him up.
Hmm. Maybe our omega has her walls up. Either way, it’s none of my business.
We make it to the main hall of the house, where the grand staircase is, and Nic is the first to ascend, followed shortly by Mercedes and then me. Once we hit the second floor, Nic looks at me, and I give him a nod.
“Come on,” I say. “I’ll show you your room.” I walk around her and Nic, and even though I don’t turn my head to make sure she follows, I hear her soft footsteps padding behind me as we leave Nic on the stairs.
Darius will be on the third floor, probably in his office, where he always seems to lock himself when we’re not at work. For him, though, anything he does in that office is work. The man is all work and no play—and you know what they say about all work and no play: it makes Jack a dull boy.
And by Jack, I mean Darius.
And by boy, I mean man, since there is nothing boyish about that one.
Nic set up a bedroom for an omega a long time ago. I think he’s always wanted us to have one, and what happened four years ago just pushed it out. Our pack was almost fractured, and to be honest, I don’t know if we ever fully recovered.
The bedroom is the furthest down the hall, and it faces the backyard of the property, so it’s got a nice view. It has its own walk-in closet that is currently empty, along with its own adjoining bathroom, complete with a spacious, walk-in shower and a soaking tub that could fit more than one person.
Obviously, it was designed for an omega with heats. An omega that wouldn’t mind showering or bathing with her alphas. All very hopeful, if you ask me.
“This is it,” I say, flexing my fingers in an effort to both distract myself from how good she smells and how annoying these clothes are.
Mercedes checks out the room, and I watch as she deposits her bag and her heels onto the bed—all white, boring sheets with no personality. Yet. She checks out the closet and then the bathroom. I don’t know why I stand there and watch her, but I do. I want to make sure she likes it, as stupid as it is.
When she’s done surveying her new space, she says, “It’s huge. Is this really all for me?” She fiddles with her hands, suddenly looking uncomfortable.
“It’s… just a room,” I say lamely.
“Yeah, but it’s huge. The closet is as big as the room I had at Solus.” She bites her bottom lip, a gesture that makes my lower half warm and an instinctive purr threaten to leave my chest.
I want to comfort her. I want to make sure she’s okay. I don’t like seeing her so conflicted.
Thankfully, I’m able to wrangle the purr before it comes out, and she goes on, “There’s so much empty space, I don’t know what to do with it.”
I cough and look away. “If you want to fill it up with shit, I’m sure Nic would be happy to oblige. Now, if that’s all, I need to go burn these clothes.” Before she can say anything, I turn away from her and hurry toward the door, needing to put some space in between us before I lose all common sense.
Nic was the one who was dying for an omega, not me, and certainly not Darius. Still, being alone with her is dangerous.
But before I can step out into the hall, she says something that stops me: “I’m sorry.”
My legs halt immediately, and I turn around to meet her stare from across the room. She’s sorry? “For what?”
“You don’t want me here,” she says. “And obviously neither does your third. I won’t be any trouble. I won’t cause problems.”
It takes too long for my brain to register what she said, and yet I don’t try to refute her words. I’d only lie to her, and I might be a lot of things, but I’m no liar. “So what are you sorry for?”
She shrugs. “Existing, I guess.”
Just the way she says it makes that cold thing in my chest ache. If I was a different man, a different alpha with a different history, I’d return to her, sweep her up in my arms, take us to the bed, and hold her on my lap while I purred and comforted her without words. I’d make her feel wanted, and she’d melt in my arms.
But I’m not a different man. I’m me, and if I let myself get close to this omega, I’ll only do one thing.
Hurt her.
And, by all that’s right in this world, I won’t let myself hurt her.
So, instead of rushing to her and sweeping her up in my arms, I leave her with the words, “Don’t feel sorry for that.” And then I give her my back once more as I leave for good—and it’s only when I’m halfway down the hall when I realize just how hollow my reply to her sounded.