Page 28 of Run Omega Run
I looked up just as Bennett rounded the corner, his arms laden with what appeared to be building supplies. Lumber, rolls of what might have been roofing material, and a toolbox that looked both expensive and well-used. He moved with the same controlled grace I'd noticed at the hospital; every step deliberate and confident.
Our collision was inevitable. I was focused on navigating around a chunk of broken concrete while he was scanning the building's façade with the attention of someone assessing structural damage. We came together in a tangle of our scents.
His peppermint sharpness wrapped around my strawberries and cream like recognition itself, creating something that made the morning air feel thick and charged. I found myself frozen, bag suspended between us, while he steadied me.
"Easy," he said, his voice low and careful, and I caught the way his nostrils flared as he breathed me in. "You all right?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice to remain steady if I tried to form actual words. His hand remained on my arm longer than necessary, his thumb brushing against the fabric in a gesture that sent warmth shooting through my entire system.
"Thank you," I managed finally, stepping back toward the bins and trying to ignore the way my body immediately missed his steadying presence. "I should have been watching where I was going."
"You had other things on your mind," he observed, and there was understanding in his voice that suggested he knew exactly what thoughts might have been occupying my attention.
I deposited the rubbish with hands that trembled slightly, hyperaware of his eyes following my movements. When I turned back, I could see Dante and Angus approaching from the street, their arms also full of building supplies, their voices echoing in the quiet morning air.
The children had apparently been watching from the windows, because I could hear the scraping of chairs being pushed back from the table. Small faces appeared in the doorway and behind glass, eyes wide with curiosity about these men who'd somehow become part of our world overnight.
"The Alphas are back," Susie's voice drifted from somewhere inside, and I caught the note of fascination mixed with the careful wariness she applied to all adult men who showed an interest in our strange little family.
"Are they gonna fix our house?" Manny asked, his voice carrying the hope of a child who'd learned not to expect much, but couldn't quite stop wishing for miracles anyway.
I approached Dante and Angus, trying to project calm competence while my pulse hammered against my ribs with increasing intensity.
"Let me help," I said, reaching for one of the bags Dante was carrying.
Our hands brushed as he transferred the weight to me. My breath caught; my skin prickled into goosebumps despite the morning warmth. The paper bag crinkled between us, metal objects shifting inside—screws maybe, or nails—but the sound seemed distant beneath the sudden rush of blood in my ears. His fingers lingered against mine for half a heartbeat. The scent of marshmallow thickened in the air between us, sweet and rich enough that I could almost taste it on the back of my tongue.
Angus laughed, a sound that made something deep in my chest respond with recognition. "She is, isn't she?" he said out of the blue, his Scottish accent wrapping around the words with satisfaction.
Dante nodded, his eyes never leaving my face. "Absolutely."
I furrowed my brows, looking between them while trying to ignore the way my body was responding to their proximity, their scents, their obvious approval of whatever they were seeing when they looked at me. "What?" I asked.
Dante set his remaining bags down on the cracked concrete in front of our door, then straightened to his full height. Before I could step back or process what was happening, he pulled me into his arms with a confidence that suggested he had every right to hold me.
"Angus means you're ours, Sweetie," he said, his voice low enough that the children inside wouldn't hear but clear enough that there was no mistaking his meaning.
The word hit me like a physical blow. Ours. Possessive, claiming, final in ways that made every independent instinct I possessed rise in immediate protest, but yearned for it all the same.
I narrowed my eyes, trying to project strength even though being held against his chest was making it difficult to think clearly. "What do you mean, ours?"
Before Dante could respond, Angus moved behind me, his massive presence blocking out the rest of the world. His hand glided up my arm with deliberate slowness, and I found myself shuddering again, biting my lip to suppress the sound that wanted to escape at his touch.
"Our Omega," Angus said simply, his accent making the claim sound both inevitable and protective.
The words hung in the morning air between us, heavy with implications I wasn't ready to process.
Before I could respond to Angus's declaration, before I could process what it meant to be claimed as someone's Omega, Bennett's voice cut through the charged atmosphere. “Give her space,” he said. Both Dante and Angus stepped back, but not before gliding their hands over my body, causing ripples of excitement to flow through me, and for slick to wet my pants with anticipation.
Bennett moved toward us and growled when he scented me. “I need to change,” I said, backing away and into the hallway. Bennett followed and gripped my hand, his pupils dilated, as he spun me around and pulled me into him.
“No, Heather, you’re perfect just the way you are.”
I nodded meekly, which was unusual for me. I was always Miss Independent, but these men, they undid me with their stares, excited me with their touch; they were everything I wanted and more.
Dante coughed, and I snapped back to reality. “We're here to help,” he said, his dark eyes meeting mine with an intensity that somehow saw right through me.
Help with what? I thought, biting my lower lip to stop my imagination from running away with itself again. Taking a deep breath, I coughed, straightening my body again. “Help?” I asked, “Help with what?”
