Chapter 3
Zira
I don’t know why I offered to do Alek’s hair, the massive Viking that is now positioned between my legs, his white-blond hair cascading over my thighs. Maybe it was my perfectionist streak, or perhaps it was the way I was worried for his hair follicles if he kept pulling on the well-kept and healthy strands of hair, but the words were out of my mouth before I could even consider the outcome. Such as having to scramble with the hoodie to ensure all of my important bits were covered while the large man took up space between my knees.
“Do you want anything specific done? And do you have a comb or a brush?” I ask, rolling my shoulders back and deciding to suck up the regret for asking if he needed help. Instead, I put my energy into fixing his hair. Seems better than remaining angry at the two other alphas in the room that are setting me on edge with their bergamot and incense and pink pepper and pear scents that I remember mingled together at the hospital all those weeks ago, ignoring their intense stares while I bundle Alek’s hair into my hands.
“I’ll get it,” Barnes mutters, standing from his seat and walking toward the entry table, opening a drawer and retrieving exactly what I’ve asked for. Seeing my questioning look, Barnes shrugs with a twitch of his lips. “We keep them everywhere, because you never know when Alek needs one.”
“Came in handy now, didn’t it?” the man between my legs rumbles teasingly, his body vibrating against my knees and setting off strange fireworks in my stomach. Because, as pissed as I am, and as wary around men I have become, I have eyes that work perfectly fine. These men are stunning, really. A visually impaired person could see how gorgeous they are, and I comfort myself with that knowledge while I accidentally perfume slightly, releasing my sweet scent into the room with three alphas I don’t really know.
Shaking my head and wondering, not for the first time, how the hell I’ve managed to find myself in this situation, I accept the items from Barnes with an awkward smile before focusing on Alek’s head of pretty, pale-blond hair. I’m careful as I untangle the strands, picking out the knots while I ignore the way my perfume thickens and sweetens, hoping it goes ignored by the men, too.
I must look as uncomfortable as I feel, because not one of them even teases the idea that they can smell the way my body is betraying me. Hell, I’m surprised I can even manage a leak of my scent after the hell those five days brought upon me.
“So,” I mutter, clearing my throat as I run my hands through Alek’s surprisingly soft hair. “I don’t suppose you brought anything of mine here when you ab—”
“We didn’t abduct you,” Laz reminds me with a tolerance I’ve never seen before. Not even from Mom, who’s the most patient person I know. I mean, a beta raising an omega? You’d have to master the art of patience.
“-ducted me? Like clothes, maybe?” I continue on as though he hadn’t spoken, because he’s the biggest culprit between him and Barnes. The night Mom was rushed into hospital was the night I met Lazarus Sharpe. He was sweet, stayed with me up until I demanded he and Barnes leave. It was the night he decided to pay a hefty amount of money on a woman he didn’t know for reasons I’m still not entirely sure about.
Barnes clears his throat before he says, “I found a duffle bag and put some things in there. Figured you’d want something other than the towel we found you in.”
I nod, feeling my cheeks heat, knowing the state they found me in. I dread to think of what Barnes thought when he entered my nest in order to gather my clothing. I should be angry that he dared step a foot in there at all, given that nests are pretty damn sacred to omegas. Sadly, my nest isn’t all it should be. It’s barely a nest, in all honesty. With the little amount of money I’ve been making before North Five, and the money I am making that’s going toward paying bills and the debt I now owe to Barnes’s pack, I haven’t had anything spare to make my nest an actual nest. It’s the only place I can go for my heats, though, and it no doubt stinks of sex, desperation, and stress. I’m going to have to clean everything in there before I can sleep in there without issue again.
When the silence stretches on between us, my fingers still expertly filtering through Alek’s hair, I grow uncomfy and awkward once more, so I ask, “Mom called you?”
Barnes nods, leaning forward in his chair as he rests his elbows on his knees. “Right after you ended the call between us. We raced right here. Thankfully, I’d just finished work and Alek came to pick me up since I left my car at home.”
“Huh,” I mutter, finally untangling the last of the knots in Alek’s hair and scratching my nails over his scalp to release the tension his previous braids put on his head. I’m about to open my mouth, to ask more questions to fill the weird silence, when a funny rattling sound breaks through the tension in the living room. The sound is deep, a vibration that carries a baritone so low that I can feel it rattle my bones. All tension seeps from my body at the first sound, my shoulders dropping and my back relaxing enough that I no longer feel stiff as a board.
It takes me a moment to understand what I’m hearing, and when my hands pause in Alek’s hair, so does the purr that rumbles from his chest. Stunned silence follows suit, Barnes and Lazarus staring at Alek in shock. I’m no better, my wide eyes planted on the back of the blond man’s head, my fingers still in his hair.
“Okay, so that’s never happened before,” Alek declares without an ounce of shame, and I feel him shrug. “Apparently, I can purr and it just took a head massage from the right person to wrangle it out of me. No need to look so shocked.”
“It was a very pretty purr, love,” Lazarus notes softly, a small smile tugging at his lips, though he doesn’t release it fully. It does, however, break the tension in the room and I go right back to parting Alek’s hair in the pieces I’m braiding. No sooner than I begin, so does his purr, and I’m less shocked but no less surprised than the first time. I’m more shocked by how completely at ease and comforted I feel at the sound, my body turning languid as I begin braiding a thin strip of hair on the left side of his head. It also doesn’t escape my notice that it does more than soothe me, and I beg my body to find some semblance of control, because perfuming for a man I don’t know who had the audacity to carry me from my home and drive me here in nothing but a towel is absolutely not appropriate.
Alek snickers at his packmate, then teases, “Someone certainly likes it. Is it just me, or do you guys smell banana split a little stronger now?”
“Oh my god,” I mutter, tugging on his hair a little harder, my cheeks no doubt flaming like a glowstick in the dark.
“Careful doing that, little lady,” the man currently seated between my knees warns with a hint of amusement. “Can’t ever be sure what kinks you’re tapping into when you pull someone’s hair.”
“Alek, for fuck’s sake,” Barnes groans.
“Charming as ever,” Laz blandly quips.
Me? Oh, I’m just waiting for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
“That’s very forward of you, don’t you think?” I mumble, refusing to look at the other two alphas in the room, though it does nothing to hide the fact that I’m sitting in a strange house I’ve never been to and surrounded by scents that make my mouth water, my nether region wake up as though I haven’t been through a five-day masturbation session forced upon me by my biology, and my heart palpitate like it’s never smelt or seen anything quite as good as the three men around me.
“I’m a forward guy, what can I say,” Alek jokes, bumping my leg with his shoulder before settling deeper while I tie off the first thin braid on the side of his head.
“There’s forward, then there’s inappropriate,” Barnes grumbles, and I peek at him, only to find him glaring at the blond-headed Viking as though he wants to strangle him.
There’s a pause before Alek sighs and nods, jostling my hands a fraction before he pauses at the tightening of my fingers. “You’re right. You’re right. Zira, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
What’s crazy, though, is that it didn’t make me uncomfortable in the slightest. In fact, there’s something rather endearing about the man speaking his thoughts, no matter the intention. It’s refreshing. So often do people disguise their thoughts and feelings, especially around strangers they’ve only just met. I won’t admit out loud that I’m actually… enjoying the banter? Sure, it’s not a conversation one should have with strangers, but I sort of like it. It’s cute, in a goofy kind of cheese-ball way, even if it’s making me blush like a virgin who’s just bore witness to a penis for the first time in her life.
Ignoring him now as well as the others, not wanting to encourage him despite the way I find myself at ease if not a little red with embarrassment, I tap the side of his head gently, gesturing for him to tilt to the opposite side before beginning the other braid.
Once more, the room falls silent, and I work on Alek’s hair for a small while in peace. I get so lost in it that I don’t even realize Alek has started purring once more, my fingers weaving through his hair with expert ease, years and years of doing my hair, my mom’s hair, and the girls’ from the gym hair coming in handy.
As soon as I’m done, two thin braids now twisted into the sides of his head and one on the top, each one tied together into one long braid that falls down to his shoulders, I tap on his meaty shoulders and declare, “All done.”
His purr stops, and I instantly miss it. I almost blurt as much until I bite my lip, forcing them down with a hard swallow, and I sit back as I watch the big, burly man stand suddenly and hurry to a room near the stairs.
“Holy shit,” he blurts, muffled by the door that now separates us. “That looks awesome. Don’t tell Silver I said as much, but that’s even better than what she does.”
I’m blushing for a completely different reason now, so while Alek is checking out his new hairstyle, I slide from the comfortable couch and ask, “Is there a shower I could use? I didn’t get a chance to have one before ending up on the floor.”
“Upstairs, second door to your right. Use anything you want in there, darling,” Lazarus offers, smiling gently at me, and I offer him a quick glance and nod before high tailing it out of there. I have no business being here, sitting comfortably on a couch made of pillows and dreams, surrounded by the first group of men that don’t make me uncomfortable, make my skin crawl, or send my instincts into overdrive.
Hurrying up the stairs without so much as turning back, I’m almost at the top when Barnes calls, “Your bag is in the room you woke up in.”
“Thanks,” I shout back, disappearing into that very same room mere seconds later.
I find my duffle, the neon orange usually used for my gym clothes and such, tucked half beneath the tall bed I woke up in. Begrudgingly, I have to admit how comfortable that bed is. I slept like a baby without waking once, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I actually woke without any kinks in my back and neck. It was the best sleep I’ve had since I can remember.
Dragging the bag from beneath the bed, I undo the zipper and rifle through it, impressed to find comfy clothes, summer dresses, and underwear. I have no idea how many nights Barnes planned for me to stay, though he’s a little deluded if he thought I’d stay longer than necessary, but there’s a warmth in my chest that he thought to bring a bit of everything to ensure I had something I wanted to wear.
Gathering a compilation of things, a pale-blue summer dress covered in white daisies, a white thong I’ll be embarrassed about later that Barnes handled, a matching lace bralette that makes my cheeks pink knowing his hands were on that, too, and a pair of white wedges that I wear any time the sun is out, I hug it all to my stomach and hurry out of the nice, clean, and comfortable bedroom and dart to the bathroom Lazarus provided instructions for.
Once inside, I lock the door and take a deep, steadying breath, dropping my head to the cool surface of the door with a muted thud. It takes me a moment to finally move, going about my business. In the shower, I wash my hair thoroughly with the use of a shampoo that smells almost as good as the men downstairs, I use a body wash that smells more strongly than what I could smell on the borrowed hoodie I was reluctant to remove, and use a warmed towel straight from the heated towel rack. As nice as everything is, it’s nothing lavishly fancy. Sure, some of the products I spy in the caddy are a little more expensive than most, but nothing that screams ‘wealth and exuberance.’ It’s somewhat of a shock, given how easily Barnes and his pack threw money to a hospital for bills that weren’t theirs to pay.
Not for the first time, I wonder why I’m so angered by it, and the answer comes to me just as quickly as every other time I’ve broached the topic in my mind. I understand it was a good deed, something they thought would help or ease the stress, but I’m simply not wired to think that way after the childhood I grew up from.
As much as I love my mom, and I really do—that woman is the light of my life, and I certainly wouldn’t be here without her and her guidance, love, and care—but, as much as she means to me, there’s no doubt that some of her life choices have been questionable. I mean, I was born from a one-night stand with a wealthy man who wanted nothing to do with mom or me when she told him she was expecting a bundle of joy she never thought she’d have. A wealthy man she didn’t realize was bound to a pack already, who had an omega waiting at home for him, and who slapped a restraining order on her a week after discovering his infidelity created a life he didn’t want any responsibility over.
Instead of fighting for child support or the likes, Mom uprooted her life and moved, becoming a single mother before I was even born. Shortly after I was born, Mom tried a string of no-good jobs, all dead-end work, just to get us by. I can only admire her for it, despite several of those jobs falling through because she’s a sassy beta who couldn’t always keep her mouth shut when there was conflict. We made do with what we had, though, and sometimes Mom was forced to mooch off whatever good-for-nothing boyfriend came along, but we got to where we are now through hard work, perseverance, and a whole lot of struggling. Through it all, every man that came into our lives turned out to be weirdos, creeps, or men with more money than sense. I was raised watching Mom navigate the world of the wealthy before falling back down to reality when the wealthy were done with her.
The harder struggles came when my designation appeared, and we were both shocked to discover my status as omega. No longer was I as safe as the betas I grew up with at school, no longer was I equal to the alphas I once befriended before they ditched me for bigger and better things. My life had turned upside down, and the mooching off fancy men with deep pockets and endless wallets disappeared when their eyes would linger a little too long on me, or when my heats would pose issues for them, making them uncomfortable enough to leave my mom without so much as a call.
When Mom finally gave up on dating, I was old enough to start working. So, wanting to finally step up and help where I could, I found any after-school job that would hire an omega and helped pay for all we needed. I never took a single handout, unwilling to take charity or rely on others. I never accepted help, fearing that it would be used against us like it had so many times before. And not once have I allowed anyone to pay my way since my first paycheck was handed to me.
Life was never easy, and we’ve always had monetary issues, but we always had one another. After watching Mom paying back loans and credit cards just to get by, after watching her crying about another man leaving her, I learned pretty early on never to rely on or trust anyone but Mom, because men have the power to crush you without batting an eye.
So, my childhood wasn’t shiny and fun. It’s certainly not a childhood I would have wished upon anyone, but it was mine, and it shaped me to who I am today. Mom tried her best, that much I’m aware of, and I love her deeply for doing what she could or felt like she needed to do in order to provide for the daughter she never expected.
Which is why it’s rubbed me in all the wrong places that Barnes paid for the medical bills. I feel like I owe him now, and I hate it. I hate the feeling in my chest that appears when I think about how much money those bills cost, and how much I’m going to have to pay him instead of the hospital. The only good thing to come of it is that I don’t have to pay interest, not that I won’t be paying him back for years to come without it.
As soon as I’m dressed and my copper hair has been dried into loose waves that run down my back like a river of lava, I escape the bathroom, checking left and right before bolting across the hallway and into the room once more. I find the towel I arrived in neatly folded on the dresser, along with my purse, and my eyes widen because, inside that purse are the six installment payments I tried giving Barnes at North Five.
And now I’m in his house.
I finally found a silver lining on my abduction.
Fishing for the envelopes that hold varying amounts of cash, all that I could spare since Mom moved to the care facility, I pull it out with a whispered shout of victory. Deciding now is my chance to leave the money and get the hell out of here before I feel any more conflicting emotions and strange feelings that I don’t particularly want to examine, I haul my duffle over my shoulder, along with my purse, and clasp the envelopes tightly in my hand. I fish out a few bills from one envelope, making a mental note of how much it is so I can pay that back, too, I carefully exit the bedroom.
I try my best to keep my feet light, hoping I can sneak out without anyone noticing, barely making a peep as I walk down the small length of the hallway and to the top of the stairs. There, I pause and listen for any sign of life. When none comes, the house apparently silent as the dead now, I tiptoe down the stairs, peering around for Barnes, Lazarus, or Alek.
As soon as I reach the bottom step, I hear their voices, though it sounds like they’re coming from far away. They’re certainly not in the living room anymore, because I would have been caught instantly, the stairs leading directly into the cozy space.
My gaze darts around rapidly until I find a partially opened door that leads to a porch, and if I strain enough, I can hear the three voices that mingle so well together that I almost pause my steps as I continue to tiptoe toward the kitchen counter that still houses cooled cinnamon buns.
“...got our work cut out for us, because she’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before,” I overhear Alek declare, and I feel my lips twitch, because they’ve clearly moved to the outdoors in hopes of being unheard.
“Why do you think I waited so long to introduce you to her? She’s special, and I fucked it up before it even began,” Barnes grumbles, right before he sighs deeply.
I pause then, for several reasons. Two of which being, fucked what up before what began? And what does he mean, he waited to introduce me?
“I hardly think all is fucked, mate. Don’t be dramatic. She’s overwhelmed, hurt, and none too pleased with us, but maybe if we apologize she might find it in her to forgive. We can move from there, should that be the case,” Lazarus calmly interjects, his smooth, buttery voice like music to my ears.
Shaking my head, refusing to look into their words because there’s every chance they’re not talking about what it seems like they’re talking about, or they could be talking about some poor other sap they’ve slighted, I sneak into the kitchen, leave the envelopes in plain sight, and skedaddle my ass right on out of their house.
As quiet as a church mouse, I shut the door after myself before hustling down the porch steps that lead to a fancy gravel driveway that twists and winds amongst the tall trees. As I’m hurrying down the driveway, I fish my cell phone from my purse and book a ride home, sharing my location with the driver because I don’t know where the hell I am, and continue on my way until I reach a fancy gate that sits partially open, thank the stars above.
The moment I’m free, I take a deep breath and run a hand through my hair, searching the road from left to right before meandering down the road slightly in order to hide in case my escape doesn’t go missed.
Thankfully, my ride arrives in less than ten minutes, and I slouch in the backseat as soon as I’m tucked away inside the back of the woman’s car, my thoughts a scrambled mess and my heart beating erratically in my chest for more reasons than one.