Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
PABLO
My body feels flushed as I struggle to keep Verona from bleeding out in my arms. I feel both overwhelmed and starving for dopamine as my eyes move between two women who are clearly lovers.
“Why wouldn’t you let the omega have her alpha?” I ask, interrupting the insanity happening around me in the vehicle.
They’re all talking at the same time, and it’s threatening to give me a headache.
I haven’t allowed myself to think much about Rosalia. In a way, she’s simply a means to an end for our pack, but now that this little omega is laying unconscious across from me in a ruined wedding dress, I have questions.
A lot of them.
“Don Accetta hates Verona, as you can see by the knife wound,” Nico sighs.
“I didn’t know where she was, and we had too many balls in the air to launch a search party in a city we don’t know.
She’s been stalking Rosa and bonded with her against her will.
I think the pressure of knowing she was going to lose Rosa forced her to do it. ”
“She didn’t look as if it was forced when she was sobbing at the altar for her alpha,” I grumble. “You were being a selfish pendejo.”
“Maybe. It’s going to be hard enough to explain this away to the Don.”
“Unless we steal the girls, disappear, and continue business as usual,” Dario breathes.
He’s the cooler head in our pack, even though he’s rubbing his temples as if he’s the one with a headache.
“That’s true. You married her, Nico. We don’t have to give him access to the family money, despite what the contract says. The Accetta family is scum, outside of the women in our backseat. They don’t deserve a dime,” Ciro says, pulling into the driveway.
Ciro isn’t wrong. Glancing around the neighborhood, I think about how different this is from the gun fight we just escaped from. It’s a harsh reminder that not everyone just experienced a Come to Jesus moment courtesy of an insane hitwoman.
There’s a puddle of slick in my boxers that’s quickly cooling as it slides out of my asshole and cock, and I am incredibly embarrassed about it. My stepfather used to make snide comments about how weak of an alpha I am. It was done where no one could hear, but always made me doubt my designation.
And now…I’m an omega? That’s not how it works, right? The alpha in my arms shifts with a wet, choking gasp, and I tighten my grip as I purr. Instead of the weak sound it’s always been, it’s delicate and low, making the entirety of the vehicle begin to breathe harder.
“I need to get out of here. Too many omega pheromones, not enough sense,” Ciro breathes, slamming the brakes as he turns off the engine, seconds before he bails out.
I’m used to the dramatics of this pack, so I ignore him completely. There’s nothing I can do about it, and he hasn’t shown the slightest bit of interest in me since my mother and I met them. I honestly doubt that’ll change.
Bundling Verona carefully against me, I thank Dario when he opens the door to help me out. When he offers to take her from me, I bare my teeth at him for the first time in my entire life.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he murmurs. “The doctor is pulling in now. You’re going to need to let him help.”
“He can work around me,” I growl, striding toward the door. I may have a load of slick in my boxers that screams I’m an omega, but I will not back down like one to a goddamned beta, even if he is my stepbrother.
Dario remains outside to escort the doctor in, and I look from Verona to the little omega in Nico’s lap.
“They need to be close to each other,” I say, knowing it to be true. There’s so much sadness surrounding Rosalia like a blanket, and I can taste it as if I’m standing at the edge of the ocean.
If I can ease her in any way, I will.
“Ciro,” Nico grunts, pushing him into motion. Tables get pulled into the room, and he gently lays Rosa on one as the doctor carefully approaches us.
His eyes take in how tightly I’m holding Verona, and he purses his lips.
“I’m Dr. Niall Walsh. It appears that I have a new helper. Place the girl on the table and go wash your hands. Be quick about it while I begin working on the stab wound.”
There’s blood all over my tux, despite how tightly I’m holding the sweatshirt to the stab wound, and I nod as I lay Verona down. The main living space of the rental isn’t overly large, and the kitchen is steps away from the living room, allowing me to watch while I scrub my hands well.
Dr. Walsh tosses a pair of gloves in my direction once I return, and I do whatever he says as he patches up Verona.
“The knife didn’t puncture her lungs,” he murmurs under his breath. “She easily would have bled out without proper care though.”
Renzo Accetta is a royal bastard. Nico shares a glance with me as we silently agree, and I hope he understands we cannot be associated with someone so willing to discard people simply because it’ll hurt those he wishes to control.
I could easily be the next person on Don Accetta’s hit list if he decided for some reason that I’m an easy target. I’m not as savvy with a gun, but I can help run a rescue mission apparently.
It takes an hour before Dr. Walsh is confident that Verona will pull through, and his treatment includes a shot of antibiotics and an IV of fluids. He also begins an IV drip for Rosalia, his lips pursing again as he sees the deep purple beneath her eyes.
Nico did his best to remove more of the ridiculous dress, and Dario was smart enough to cover her with a blanket.
She’s much less exposed now, and I relax infinitesimally.
I’m concerned about both of them, which is a huge deal when I was ready to sacrifice them both for my happiness just before the wedding.
Nico’s hand smoothes over Rosa’s hair, already pulling pins from it as if it’s a nervous tick.
Her bun can’t be comfortable to lay on, and I twitch the blanket over Verona’s body higher.
The tank top had to be cut away, and it left her in a stained bra and pants.
There are so many conflicting feelings soaring inside of me.
“These women are bonded,” Nico says, choosing his words wisely. “Is there anything else we need to watch for or be concerned about?”
“When the alpha pulls through, so will her omega.” The doctor almost appears apologetic that he can’t help more.
“The alpha is out of the danger zone now, but the omega is severely dehydrated. This doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the stab wound.
You’ll need to ensure she takes better care of herself. ”
“Now that they’re together again, I have a feeling it’ll be easier to do that,” Nico murmurs.
“This is why bonded pairs shouldn’t be kept apart,” Dr. Walsh says sternly.
His blonde hair is streaked with white, and he’s in his fifties. I appreciate that he doesn’t allow himself to feel intimidated, despite the weapons on display. Even Rosalia had a gun strapped to her inner thigh before my stepbrother removed it, which makes me even more interested in her.
Nico hasn’t told me much about her outside of the fact that her father mistreats her. The wedding dress is ostentatious, and I noticed the way he murmured in her ear every step down the aisle. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was threatening her as they walked.
“Is there anything else I can help with?” Dr. Walsh asks. “I get the feeling you’re not from Savannah. The mafia packs tend to use their own in-house doctors.”
“It’s that obvious, huh?” Nico grunts. “Thank you for coming.”
“I actually have a really uncomfortable question,” I say, wincing as I shift my weight.
I’m not very happy that I’m going to need to leave the room to shower, but I doubt my stepbrothers will hurt either of the women here. It’s not really their style.
“Go ahead.” The doctor doesn’t make any move to give me privacy, and I suppose I don’t really need it. Not from the people here.
“Is it possible for a designation to change?” I ask. “I’ve always been an alpha, but I don’t think I am anymore.”
“I see an omega in front of me. Granted, your will is strong, and you have no problems pushing back when you need something. I experienced that first hand. However, sometimes, a designation will not present until later in life, and people will confuse the late onset for something else. Since you have a more dominant personality, it was generally assumed you were an alpha. How old are you?” the doctor asks.
“I’m twenty-five,” I reply, aware of how much younger I am compared to my stepbrothers.
“Then it’s not at all surprising to me that being around a female alpha would spark your true designation. I can see how protective you are of her,” he says carefully.
Biting my lip, I nod as I gaze at both women. I don’t want to talk too much about how they both feel like mine, because I’m not sure how that’s possible.
“To add to this, biology and fate aren’t easy to predict.
I have the impression you may find feelings develop you never dreamed you’d have,” Dr. Walsh continues.
My eyes widen as I think about that, avoiding everyone’s gaze, though they’re watching me.
“Don’t feel as if you’re locked into anything.
There’s nothing wrong with exploring things. ”
“Thank you,” I whisper, needing space. Does this mean I’m suddenly going to start crushing on Ciro or Dario?
Is my biology about to ruin my life? It’s almost painful as I pull away from Verona and Rosalia, and the doctor stops me with his words once more.
“Are you aware of soul matches?” he asks.
My chest is heaving as if I can’t get enough air, reminding me of the crushing sensation I had when Rosalia passed out. I felt as if I was drowning.
Coupled with the need to get to Verona at the church, my body is in overdrive as I’m faced with the weight of how off course my life is. I’m a nerd in the mafia, though, so fate has always felt that throwing me into the blender is a good idea.
“Yes.” I force the word out, and it reminds me of a bullet being shot. It feels wrong to admit I may have a connection to someone that’s somehow bigger than my alphas.