6. A Normal Day
A Normal Day
Evangeline
Alpha Cassius Atwood. Alpha Cassius Atwood is the name of my mate.
It’s strange how quickly your life changes.
One day you are hiding in the woods with a raccoon making plans to stalk an Alpha while trying to keep up with school to please the only person you have ever loved.
The next you are hiding in the woods with a raccoon planning to stalk an Alpha, hoping to make him your mate, while keeping up with school to please the only person you have ever loved.
Wild.
After my discovery last night, I ran out of that building the first chance I got.
Right back where I started—the shed. At least the raccoon was happy to see me (he did not give a shit).
Where I muttered incessantly like an insane person trying to figure out my next step.
The most logical being that I need to find out everything I can about this Alpha before I make him mine.
It must have taken longer than I thought because the next thing I knew, there was an angry (understatement) Alpha bashing on the shed door.
Auggie must have given up waiting for me to come home.
We usually have an unspoken rule that he doesn’t come to the shed.
He knows when I’m here it’s because I can’t be around anyone, that it doesn’t feel safe.
It’s not safe.
Shut up, brain. You are not a part of this.
When I don’t feel safe, I make… decisions.
Murderous ones. So, it’s best to leave me be for a while.
But he got notified that the ID of a dead Councillor had been used, and everyone pointed the finger at me.
I mean, they’re not wrong, but come on, let an Omega have a little bit of mystery.
He decided enough was enough and came to get me.
By the time we drove home, he was the one apologising to me.
Did not see that one coming. Not that I didn’t have to grovel, boy, did I.
But he was worried that he pushed me too much.
Giving me an ultimatum and then expecting me to go to school the next day without a worry was, of course, going to make me want to run.
After a big, tearful hug, I spent the majority of the night in my room researching my mate.
He was easy to find, and I’m surprised I haven’t heard of him before.
He’s exactly the kind of person I love to follow.
Though he doesn’t have any social media, there was an abundance of pictures and mentions of him in articles either about his work (security, boring) or in gossip magazines.
I do love me some gossip. But I am also painfully aware that it doesn’t tell the whole truth, no matter now much more fun it would be if it were true.
Despite apparently dating my entire school, his love life remains very much a mystery.
He’s always pictured alone, and all of his responses to questions about it are the same: ‘One day I’ll have a mate, and I can’t wait to meet them’.
It’s all a little too perfect. Sure, he could be a successful, handsome, strong, intelligent, famous Alpha.
But then how the fuck is he my perfect match?
He has to have some skeletons in his closet.
Or maybe he has really ugly feet? That I could never get over.
I hate feet (they’re just stubby fingers).
He can cover them for the rest of his life, for all I care.
Either way, I intend to find out.
Today I have to go back to school. Auggie says if I run again, he’s going to put a tracker on me. I love the guy, but he seriously needs to calm down. All this stress he’s putting on himself cannot be good for his blood pressure. He needs to take it easy, let the worries slip away.
My way of coping is by killing Alphas and petting wild raccoons.
I should do something for him. Maybe bake him a cake? Or get him one of those ‘world’s best dad’ mugs. Honestly, I can’t go wrong. He cries no matter what I get him. He’s sentimental that way.
The morning started off brilliantly: a good breakfast, a cuddle with Auggie and I got to catch up on my show.
It’s been downhill ever since.
The dining hall is relatively quiet today with some of the Omegas out on lunch dates and the first and second years doing mock tests, so I’m actually able to keep my food down.
A group of Omegas from some of my classes are sitting close by despite the nearly empty hall, and I can only guess it’s so they can watch me.
I can feel their eyes on me.
I can hear their giggles.
Alright, brain, not everything is about you. Get a grip.
The door crashes open, and Omega Sadie practically skips over to her friends. I’ve never really noticed her before, but for some reason right now I hate her.
“How was it!”
“Was he cute?”
“Don’t be stupid. Alphas aren’t cute. Was he hot?”
They all speak over each other, and their shrill voices are making me wish I had moved when they sat down.
She sighs dreamily and swoons, leaning her body against the side of her friend.
“He was perfect. We went for coffee. It was quiet and intimate, and he was such a good listener.”
I want to throw my bread roll at her, but I’ll be damned if I lose out on delicious bread because of her.
Wow.
I like to think I am all ‘team Omega’ and positivity, but jealously and envy have my thoughts warped. Anger threatens to seep out of me, and I rein it in, keeping it inside as fury rages down my spine.
You go, girl! Get some.
I feel fake.
Her friends shimmy over, leaving her a seat closest to me, and I have to force myself not to shiver. The fuck is that about?
The scent hits me, and the joy I had earlier when I stuffed my face with food is about to become a nightmare as it lurches in my stomach.
A campfire. Burning wood tickles my every sense. So strong I feel like I can see the smoke curling in the air. I almost reach out and touch it.
My mate.
She was on a date with my mate.
At least that explains why I hate her.
“He has the most gorgeous blond hair. He parts it in the middle, and it curls around his ears, and it’s long enough that I desperately want to run my fingers through it.”
“I’ll chop off those fingers if you do,” I mutter around the bread I’ve stuffed in my mouth.
“He’s so strong. Everything about him—his voice, his mannerisms, and his body.” They all giggle as her face brightens to pink.
“We would make beautiful babies.”
And I would kill them.
“Are you going to go on another date then?”
“I mean, I want to. I only hope he does too.”
She acts shy and coy, but she’s only feigning uncertainty. I’ve never liked her. Not for any particular reason. But she is effortlessly herself. It says more about me than her, but I would like to remain bitter and na?ve.
“His scent’s a bit strong, no?”
Yes. My body aches at the memory. Strong, powerful, and completely intoxicating.
“Well, he’s certainly not my scent match, but it’s something I could live with. He was nice, dominant, but a gentleman. He really seemed to care about what I had to say. I can’t think of better qualities for a mate.”
See. There she goes being nice and good. Bitch (I’m allowed to be mean, she went on a date with my mate).
“I couldn’t do it. It felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
She dated him too? How many Omegas is he seeing?
She opens her mouth to speak when the bell indicating the end of lunch rings through the almost empty room. They abandon their trays, and it takes me a stupidly long time to get myself to move and chase after them.
I get close to her and strategically bump my hip against hers a little more violently than it probably needed to be. Thankfully, the hallway is heaving, and she doesn’t see me as I dart into an empty classroom. One touch was all I needed. A swipe of my fingers against her wrist.
His scent.
My mate.
I breathe it in, but the anger is still there. I can’t help but hate that her scent is mixed in with his.
I don’t kill Omegas, but bitch if I did, she would be last on my list. You would think first, but no, I would want her to watch me kill everyone around her.
Brutally and violently, I would end their lives until she was a terrified, snivelling pile shaking on the floor.
Only then would I take her miserable life.
Holy shit. I might be a little crazy.
I need sugar.
Shaking off the murderous thoughts, I stop off at the little cart that stands in the courtyard and grab the biggest hot chocolate they can make and practically down the thing on my way to class, despite the burning.
By the time I make it to class and see her again, the raging desire to burn her entire life has dissipated from my brain, but the urge to sit as close to her as possible so I can breathe in his scent has not.
And boy, does that get you a lot of weird looks.
So much so that the lecturer stopped the class and asked me to stay behind to talk about boundaries and personal space.
So much for a normal day.