Page 91 of Two For the Show
“Alex,” I say on an exhale. “Alex, baby, I won’t let him take you.” I rub my cheek on the top of her head, scent marking her and reminding her who I am.
I thought I’d be more afraid.
So many times throughout my life have I imagined this moment. The moment I let an Omega into my life, into my heart, and they turn, twisting into something feral and dangerous, and harm me or my brother.
When Alex’s back arches and she screams, a sound that will no doubt haunt my nightmares as it breaks my heart, I notice a lack of pheromones from her. Her chocolate cake scent should be burnt and bitter, the cream spoiled, and the cherries rotten.
But there is nothing.
My father smelled like sweet vanilla custard, and mymother like a creamy latte. I remember those scents swirling together and spoiling, the tang of copper overtaking them as I huddled with Dario.
And yet there are none of Alex’s pheromones to be found.
I don’t allow myself the time to process that, filing it away as something better off unknown.
Dario is back, pressing himself against our Omega’s front, squeezing her between us. When we lock eyes, I’m surprised at how stricken my brother’s face is. He’s shaking, eyes glassy, and I realize I’m not the only one who held onto this fear.
He told me time and time again how rare Omega Storm was and that it wasn’t something we needed to worry about.
Yet here we are, back where we were twenty-one years ago.
It’s different this time, though.
This time, it’s our Omega.
And there is no one better to take care of her than us.
Dario starts to purr, but it’s broken, a staccato that showcases how scared he is. I join in, my urge to calm her instinctual and undeniable.
She’s crying, her body heaving as she swears and curses. She’s not making sense anymore. Every few seconds, I can make out a word, and I try to piece together exactly what she’s trying to communicate with us.
“Hurt…”
“…no..”
“…please…”
“Fucker…”
“Assholes!”
Okay, I’m starting to think she’s not saying anythingother than insults directed at the Designation Director and her old pack.
It’s been over five minutes, and I’m starting to wonder if I’m a failure of an Alpha for not being able to bring her out of this. Shouldn’t my pheromones be enough to calm her? That’s what they say, right? That an Omega in Storm can only be calmed down by their scent matched Alpha’s pheromones?
“It’s not working,” Dario says, mirroring my thoughts. The other three members of our pack have taken to restraining and protecting Warner Bradley because, despite how much I hate that fucker for immediately bending over to capitulate to the demands of abusers, Alex won’t be able to forgive herself if something happens to him.
I try to remember what it felt like to give up control of my body to my Alpha instincts when I found Alex passed out on the floor of her bathroom months ago. That part of me that knew exactly what to do to take care of his Omega.
When I finally let go of my fear and worry that something will happen to me, it’s as if there is a whisper in my ear telling me exactly what I need to do.
I grab Alex’s hair, not roughly but enough to hold her attention, and wrench her head to the side. Before I have a chance to second-guess my instincts, I bury my teeth into her neck.
Her knees buckle, and she takes my brother and me to the ground with her. I don’t let go of my grip on her neck, feeling feral and animalistic, but knowing it’s the only thing that can help her.
Dario sees what I’m doing, and though he doesn’t know why I’m doing it, he doesn’t question it. I have no doubt my actions are confusing everyone around me, but Iblock them out, focusing only on my Omega as she starts to slacken under the pressure of my teeth.
An Alpha bite does nothing for a bond. Absolutely jack shit. If it did, we’d have an epidemic of Omegas forcibly bonded. Sure, they would be able to reject a bond, but it’s not without risk. And if they were in heat, who knows if they’d have the ability to?
