Chapter 10 #2
“So you’re going to mark her?” I’m on the brink of hyperventilating.
“Oh my god, is she already pregnant? Is that why you brought her in so suddenly?” It would all make sense.
The hypocrisy would even add up. If there’s one thing alphas are more protective of than their scent match, it’s an omega pregnant with their pups.
“No, Ariana. She isn’t pregnant.” Ian clarifies, turning on the monitor at his desk. “Not yet. We’ll mark her when she is.”
Not yet. I’m going to puke. He says it like it’s a matter of time. I haven’t smelled pregnancy on her, but alphas have an easier time identifying that.
“And Amy’s okay with that?”
“Whose idea do you think it was?”
I flinch at his words. We sit in silence until my head snaps up again, coming to a new realization. “So you’ve been favoring her on the possibility of her getting pregnant soon?”
He looks away from the monitor and back at me at my accusatory tone. “She needs a comfortable environment to do so. I expect you to help facilitate that.”
“You’re not denying favoring her.”
“No one is favoring anyone.” Irritation begins to creep into Ian’s voice. “She just requires more coddling at the moment to improve her chances. You’re still our scent match. What more do you want? Try to act your age, please. You’re almost thirty.”
What more do I want? Where do I start?
“How do you know I’m the problem? You three are even older than I am. Maybe you’re the issue.” It’s a daring statement to make, posing a real risk of getting on Ian’s nerves. A real risk of facing the silent treatment or punishment when they’re already distancing themselves to focus on Amy.
It’s also a real possibility. I’ve always had healthy checkups at the doctor. Not once has there been an issue or any concerns raised.
“Which do you think is more likely? The three of us being a problem, or the one of you?” He begins typing, dismissing me. “We’ll see soon, won’t we?”
His question is like twisting the knife. If this were a job, I would tear my mating mark off like an employee badge and quit on the spot. It’s not a job though. The pack’s made sure I haven’t had one of those in ages, not even online.
I can’t break the bond so easily. Do I want to? I don’t know. My chest aches every time I think about it, but I can’t act like I haven’t daydreamed about it before. Does it matter? Considering omegas are locked into bonds, it doesn’t.
What does matter, then? Not my opinion to my pack, not my choice on my own body’s marking, not even my opinion on what I eat or wear.
Tearing the heels off my feet, I stand clutching them in one hand. “May I go then?”
He nods, not looking away from his monitor. Despite my question, I linger in his office. I shuffle from knee to knee awkwardly, rooted to the spot.
“Is something the matter?” Ian doesn’t look up as he asks.
“Are you going to come to bed with me?” I’m pathetic. It’s omega instinct. I’m wired to crave their touch after something upsetting happens, like the emotional bomb he just dropped on me.
“There’s developments from tonight I want to deal with,” the keys clack as he types away. “And I’m on rotation to sleep with Amy tonight.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat and nod, leaving without bidding him goodnight. I’m not going to beg, not when I’m trying to cling to the last shred of dignity I have left. As I expected, my bedroom is empty when I open its door.
The lock of the door clicks shut behind me. It’s a feeble rebellion, considering the three of them have keys. But if they wanted to be in here, they would have already been.
If Ian cares so much about the rotation, why didn’t he stop Liam from immediately going to Amy? He was supposed to sleep with me tonight. I’m disappointed, but not surprised.
Without bothering to take off my dress or makeup, I fall atop my bed. I’ve been perfecting this nest for years. Each item of my pack’s is carefully curated, a scarf from a trip to Aspen, the sweater they wore on a particularly special visit to my parents.
They’re not just filled with their whiskey, sage and apple scents.
They’re memoirs of our years together. When the air in the apartment feels especially suffocating, I rearrange the entire thing for comfort, reminiscing on the memories imprinted on each piece of clothing.
It always manages to make me feel better.
This nest is the one thing I can control in this house. For the first time ever, I’m reluctant to burrow into it. As much as I want to nuzzle into it, the strength of their scents simultaneously makes me want to gag too.
I’ve experienced a lot of memorable firsts since I moved into this place. My first heat with an alpha instead of a suppressant, for one. And despite Ian denying it would happen just earlier this week, I’m now about to sleep alone for the first time in nine years.
Funny. There’s no humor in it, but I want to laugh regardless, in a miserable sort of way.
If you had asked me just a few hours ago, I would have said I’d had an amazing night.
The ball was gorgeous, and the dancing was so fun I’d forgotten about both the pain in my feet and the pain in my heart at Amy’s arrival.
Maybe I’m cursed. For everything good, I’ve got to pay for it with a helping of misery. I’m one of the people lucky enough to meet their scent matches, but not lucky enough to keep them to myself. I enjoyed myself for a night, so I had to be dealt a serving of humble pie by the universe later.
A baby. We’ve talked about it many times, especially when Ian’s mom comes to visit. I’ve never used a form of birth control, nor has my pack used protection. There hasn’t been a lack of trying to make one, especially considering how handsy Liam is.
Eventually, we stopped bringing it up as much after the first four years. The pack got busier, absorbed in the rising success of Viewer. I fold my hands over my stomach, staring up at the dark ceiling, imagining a child growing in me.
Secretly, and admittedly selfishly, I’ve never been crestfallen about my lack of pregnancy before. Every time Ian’s mother brought it up, visions of them visibly disappointed by an omega child flashed through my mind.
Or even a daughter, whether omega or not.
He’s never outright said it, but I’m not fooled when Ian says he wants an heir.
He means a male one, one to carry our pack’s last name.
I’ve caught the way he wrinkles his nose at the female alphas on TV, the vulgar language he uses to vent about the women who irritate him at work.
Perhaps they’d be different to an omega or daughter of their own. But whether girl or boy, omega, beta or alpha, each mention of children had left me haunted by the same image.
Our child running up to hug their dads when they arrive home from work, only to be completely ignored and pushed to the side, even if they’re crying. All because they didn’t play their part, or got a bad grade.
Having their strictness and expectations directed at me is one thing. I may not like it, but I can handle it. At a child of mine, though? I wouldn’t be able to bear watching them treated that way.
The pessimism inside of me has truly reared its ugly head tonight. Do I want a baby with my pack? Instinctually, to some degree, I do. Especially under the spell of my heat.
Have I ever been unhappy about said heat appearing? The first one, maybe. In terms of what the rest of them have meant child-wise? No, I can’t say I have.
I would never voice any of this aloud. It rests under my folded hands, a secret between me and this empty room. If my pack came in later, would they be able to tell? Has it traveled from my finger tips and embedded itself alongside the memories folded into my nest?
Would they even care if they did know? They have Amy, after all.
They’ve given me plenty. This bed may be empty, but the room it’s in is gorgeous. My closet’s filled floor to ceiling with designer dresses and jewelry. Unfortunately, they make poor company.
Ian wouldn’t care for my protests. Liam’s clearly enamored by Amy already. Cole would be sympathetic, but ultimately defend Ian’s decision. He’s the pack lead, after all.
I don’t have close friends. My parents are getting older, and would only worry. They already have enough going on with the health issues that come with age. I can’t add to that.
I think what I want most is someone to talk to. Someone I could voice these feelings to without feeling like a nuisance or disappointment. A person who would listen even if it is burdensome.
I’m lonely.
Despite the fact that I’m in a home full of people I’m bonded with. Pulling a blanket up at random from the assortment in my nest, I use it to cover my head, pressing down on its edges. It’s not the same as the warmth from being in my alpha’s arms, but it’ll have to do.
The three of them haven’t even come to check up on me. Too preoccupied with Amy’s feelings, most likely. Liam’s probably focused on reassuring her right now. It may have slipped from his mind that he was supposed to sleep with me tonight in his worry for her.
Selfishly, I wish someone would be concerned about me too.