Page 42 of Saving the Pack's Omega

“Oh my gosh, why do you all pick me up like I weigh nothing?” she says under her breath.

I hold my tongue before I say it’s because she does weigh close to nothing. Eating more probably wasn’t an option for her. Why harp on something that was out of her control?

“Your feet are injured,” I answer instead. “Why cause you any pain when we’re all capable of relieving it?”

“Oh. Thank you, then,” she says. “But when I’m better, you don’t have to carry me anymore.”

I would never wish pain upon her, but there’s a part of me that truly hopes she’ll still let me carry her and hold her close, even after her feet heal.

She starts glancing around when I head in the opposite direction of the bedrooms.

“This is the West wing of the house. It’s where all the offices are,” I say.

I walk into my office and set her down on one of my leather armchairs. I pull out the first aid kit I have in one of my desk drawers and kneel at her feet.

“Are—are you sure you want to do this?” She says, shifting uncomfortably.

Her delicious peppermint perfume in a place that is most certainly mine pleases the territorial alpha part of me. Especially when I can smell her perfume sweetening.

So she likes the sight of me kneeling before her. I can work with that.

“Yes, I wouldn’t offer if it weren’t something I wanted to do,” I say, resting a hand over the bandage covering her knee. “This may hurt a bit, prepare yourself.”

She just gives a quick nod, clutching the hem of the t-shirt she’s wearing.

I start peeling off the bandages, revealing extensive scrapes from the gravel of the train yard, all along her knees, shins, and feet. They’ve been cleaned, and luckily, it doesn’t look like there are any signs of infection.

I follow Charlotte’s instructions and start adding layers of the antibacterial cream before re-bandaging everything.

“I—I’m sorry I can’t be more useful,” she whispers as I work.

I glance up at her face to try and gauge her expression. Her eyes are moist with tears and she’s biting the inside of her cheek again.

I stop my work. “Tell me why you’re apologizing.”

She bows her head and closes her eyes.

“Don’t hide your eyes from me.”

Her eyes snap open and her lip trembles. Her scent sours with fear and I let out a sigh.

Fuck.

“I mean please don’t feel like you have to hide your eyes from me. I’ve noticed you do it with me more often than any of the others. When I ask you questions, you’re not in trouble,” I explain. “I just want to know the best way to help you.”

“I--I can’t repay you for all you and your pack are doing for me,” she says, the pools of tears in her deep blue eyes welling over.

“There is no repayment necessary,” I say, my thumb rubbing small circles on her thigh in an attempt to reassure her.

Physical touch from an alpha is one of the best ways to help an omega with emotional regulation, if I can remember correctly.

“But—but I’m an omega,” she chokes out, wiping away her tears. “You all are alphas.”

“Yes, that’s true. You’re still not explaining why you think repayment is necessary.”

She blinks at me in confusion. “My—my position as an omega is to serve my alpha—my alphas. If I’m not to serve you and meet your… physical needs, and I’m not good enough at anything else then how can I serve you?”

“You’re wrong,” I growl.

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