Chapter 11
ELEVEN
“Where the fuck are the knives?” I mutter to myself as I open the silverware draw again, but there’s nothing but forks and spoons.
The dishwasher is empty, and the only other utensils I can find are beautifully crafted chopsticks that feel spiritually protected.
Seriously, I think if I were to touch them Elsie would somehow know and come out here to rip me apart.
It’s been six hours, the first couple rounds going by a lot slower than the guys and I anticipated.
She seems relaxed, content; it makes the alpha in me preen.
I walk around her kitchen with my shoulders back and my head a little bit straighter, knowing that even with the unconventional way we met, I can satisfy my scent match.
I was finally able to message our professors and coach about going on heat leave. Unfortunately, Elsie’s laptop is padlocked, so we’re not sure how to get word out for her. Not to mention, she’ll have to drink some soup instead of a sandwich because I couldn’t find the fucking butter knives.
When I walk back into her bedroom, Elsie is snoring softly on DJ’s chest. He watches her with stars in his eyes. I’ve never seen the bastard so fucking happy, and he’s the one that shot the winning goal to the state championship last year.
“I got her some soup,” I whisper, making my presence known.
Brodie looks up from his spot at the end of the bed. “I thought you were making her something more tangible.”
I shrug. “I can’t find everything I need,” I say, but I’m not going to tell him what. I’m kind of embarrassed that I can’t navigate her kitchen.
That same scent from before permeates once again.
When I first entered her room earlier today and stood over the bed, I detected it.
It was the slightest remnant, hardly there at all, but its presence had me inhaling for any amount of clarity I could get, the body of it covered by so much sugar and apple that I couldn’t figure out what it was.
If Brodie or DJ can scent it, they don’t let on. They just keep their focus on Elsie, caressing and scenting and purring. Their chests have been in a constant rumble since we first stepped foot in this room, and I don’t think they’re going to stop anytime soon.
I hold the cup of warm soup and reach out to hand it to DJ, but he shakes his head.
“DJ, take it,” I say.
“I want to let her sleep,” he argues.
I grit my teeth. “But she needs to eat.”
“She needs rest.”
Brodie’s chest erupts in a warning growl. “Knock it off,” he whispers sternly before meeting DJ’s eyes. “She’s been asleep for a little over an hour and a half. She needs food.”
My pack mate huffs, but ultimately concedes, bowing his head in submission. “Okay, Alpha.”
He sits up, gently bringing her with him. She stirs at the movement, her eyes fluttering open.
“Omega, we have some soup for you,” DJ tells her.
She hums slightly, acknowledging his statement without responding as she rubs her eyes. Her scent pours out rapidly in her awakened state, her body rearing up for more grueling hours.
I dig my nails into my thighs, reining in my control. Her scent was heavenly when I first scented her, but now it’s colossal. My entire body is on edge, and if Brodie and DJ weren’t here to help me, I would be worried about falling headfirst into rut.
This is my scent match. She is as beautiful as her scent is, her skin soft and her lips perfect. Everything about her face looks like a Renaissance painting come to life.
I may be having the time of my life being an alpha that she trusts to look after her, but I can’t wait for this heat to be over so I can know more about her. I want to know what her creative outlet is, what her favorite fruit is, what her morning routine looks like.
I want to know everything about her, inside and out.
After a few moments, Elsie seems to become slightly more alert.
I expect DJ to hand her the soup, but instead he picks up the spoon himself and directs the concoction toward her.
She looks at it, and for half a second, I’m terrified she’s going to reject it before her lips wrap around the spoon.
She hums happily and waits for another helping.
Brodie and I watch in fascination as DJ feeds her; they’re both completely content in the dynamic, enjoying the quiet moment together. My eyes pinch, water sprouting unexpectedly.
Who knew I would get so emotional over something so small? Seeing my pack mate feed our scent match, making her happy? It’s so bizarre.
The serenity doesn’t last though. After a few spoonfuls, Elsie’s face pinches with pain, but instead of her hand going to her stomach like I expect, it goes to her chest and rests right above her heart.
“Are you okay, Omega?” I ask, watching her closely.
She shakes her head, her breathing becoming heavy. “Casey.”
We all look at each other, unsure of what we just heard. Brodie scoots closer and puts a supporting hand on her arm but she shakes it off.
“Casey,” she repeats. “I need Casey. Casey.”
DJ looks to me. “What the hell is a Case-C?”
I fight the urge to flick him when Brodie says, “More like who is Casey.”
Elsie looks at him with wide eyes and nods.
“Okay…” We all look at each other, unsure of what to do, and the longer it goes on the more upset Elsie looks.
Her face twists, her eyes watering until a single tear spills over, and then she’s sobbing, inconsolable.
We all put our hands up, not knowing if we’re supposed to touch her to comfort her or what.
“Omega, it’s okay,” DJ tries, reaching for her first, but she snaps her arm away and gets up from the bed. “Where are you going?”
She runs to the closet, her cries never subsiding as she closes herself inside.
“No!” Brodie gets up, going after her. He just barely stops the closet door from closing all the way. “It’s okay, baby, we’ll figure something out.”
I come behind him, looking over his shoulder to see a still-distraught omega sitting on the floor of her closet. I crouch down, putting myself at eye-level with her.
“Omega.”
She looks up through wet lashes, her blue eyes captivating even while sad and tear-rimmed.
“I will go get Casey,” I tell her, and a whine climbs up her throat. “But you have to get back in the bed with DJ and Brodie, okay? I will fix this.”
She looks hesitant, like she doesn’t want to be anywhere but the dark alcove of her closet, but then she nods.
“Be gentle,” I whisper to Brodie. “I’ll go find her phone. Maybe this person’s contact info is in there.”
I venture out of the bedroom once more, focused on finding the device that I saw in the omega’s hands earlier today.
Things happened so fast, and my instincts were fully preoccupied by Elsie and the pain she was feeling.
Did she drop the phone? Put it down? I can’t remember, but when I get to the kitchen, I quickly find it lying on the counter.
Her phone case is sparkly, the case shimmering with glitter. The pumpkin pop socket makes me smile as I pick it up, holding it delicately in my hand. When I go to unlock it, the lock screen appears, asking for a password. I curse.
I wrack my brain, but I don’t have any context clues to determine what her passcode might be. I could do all the usual numbers, but I’d probably get locked out quick doing that. Instead, I hold down the side button and wait for the voice command feature to respond.
A little icon flashes on the screen and I say, “Call Casey.”
They answer on the very first ring.
“Elsie? Is everything okay?” a male asks, his voice laced with concern.
I pull the phone from my ear and look at the screen, spotting the contact picture there. Elsie has her face up against the caller, their smiles huge and silly as they take the selfie. I faintly recognize him by his blond hair and bright-blue eyes. This is the guy from her profile.
I put the phone back to my ear and gulp. “Hey, this isn’t Elsie, actually.”
“Where is she?” he asks in distress. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, but she’s been asking for you.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Is she in heat?”
I tense, not knowing who this person is or who he is to Elsie. I should be feeling extra protective of my scent match. She’s an omega having her very first heat, and his question should send my hackles up, but it doesn’t. If anything, I want to tell him everything I know.
“She is. It’s been about six hours, and now she’s refusing to let us touch her. She keeps asking for you.” I pause and then add, “She wants you.”
There’s a growl that comes through the phone that sounds more chihuahua than bulldog. My lip twitches.
“If I get over there and find that you guys have hurt her, I will fucking—”
“Jeez,” I laugh, my smile breaking free. “It was smooth sailing until she started thinking about you. Maybe I should be accusing you of leaving your omega in her time of need.”
There’s another pause, and then the man sighs.
“I will be there right away. Stay by the door.”
He hangs up before I can say another word, and then I’m standing there, my arms crossed as I wait.
My mind spins the longer I wait. Who is this guy? Why does Elsie want him here so badly? Is he an alpha that she had a fling with? Does he even want to help her, and if so, why wasn’t he here to begin with?
I’m interrupted from my thoughts when there’s a soft knock on the apartment door; quick little thumps that have me hurrying to open it.
The man on the other side looks just like his picture with Elsie, except a lot softer than I was expecting. His stature is lean, his cheeks full and his lips pink.
And then I get a hit of his scent, the notes sweet and full of power. Omega.
And not just any omega. Another scent match.
I pull the distinctive scent in deeper, recognizing the sweet and spicy tea from my childhood. It’s the same aroma that would fill the kitchen whenever my grandmother would visit from West Bengal.
My limbs relax, the scent making me feel at home.
The omega’s eyes widen as he looks at me, coming to the same realization as he scents me back. For a moment, we’re at a standstill, completely quiet and staring at each other, but then he steels his spine and speaks.
“Where is Elsie?” His eyes flash with concern as he shakes the moment away. I realize then that this is no ordinary omega. Here we are, discovering we are scent matches, and yet all he can worry about is Elsie. His own desires and urges are being pushed to the side, all to take care of his friend.
My stomach warms with that thought. I feel major respect for him that overrides my selfish instincts. “In the room,” I say, turning my back to head that way but he barrels past me, determination now glowing in his scent.
I pause, a realization poking at me as I watch his back retreat down the hallway. This omega loves Elsie, and that hits me in waves that I didn’t expect.