Page 12 of Omega Island
The sea glistened, folding in on itself in glossy patterns. On the horizon some clouds striped the sky, a darkness thickening behind them. I’d been told about the squalls. They usually came in the afternoons or the middle of the night, but I hadn’t noticed any yet.
A waiter brought me water and took my drink order. I looked at the menu. I couldn’t believe the wonderful selections.
Soon the dining room filled up. I saw the waiter’s shadow and turned only to see it wasn’t him. Senta stood before me.
“I have a large table reserved here every night. You are invited to sit there.”
“Oh. Uh. It’s okay.” My heart began to pound. I hadn’t been with large groups in so long. But that wasn’t the reason my pulse increased. It was him. Senta. Making my stomach flutter.
He didn’t smell like he had earlier. No heat. Maybe he took suppressants?
“You can’t eat alone,” Senta said.
Straten had made me into an instant pleaser. The small amount of therapy I’d had made me aware of that. It wasn’t a bad trait, my therapist, Hondo, had assured me, unless taken to the extreme where self-care became ignored. Or where people like Straten could take advantage of me.
I didn’t want to overthink everything. But I wasn’t sure what was right anymore.
“Thank you.” I stood and followed Senta to his table. Others were already seated there. So many people. I froze, but Senta gracefully moved forward and gestured toward a seat. Then he began to introduce me to his guests.
I would never remember all their names. Most were omegas, both therapists and patients.
Senta took his seat across from me. That meant I’d be facing him all through the meal which I liked but which also made me nervous.
I ordered a fresh seafood pasta dish. My stomach growled in anticipation.
The omega next to me whose name was Jen, said, “Are you a therapist or a surrogate?”
It was a fair question since I was an alpha. “Neither.”
“Oh, do you work here in another capacity?” Jen seemed merely curious, but my face reddened suddenly, the questions like a pressure in my mind.
Senta said, “Raimi is not an employee of the island, but my guest.”
“Oh.” Jen went quiet.
Others glanced quickly at me, eyebrows raised. How Senta’s statement sounded gave them ideas. I could see it in their eyes, their furtive half-smiles. If Senta noticed, he ignored it all. But I knew what they were thinking. That I was more than just a guest; I was Senta’salphaguest.
The hunger I’d felt just a second ago turned to a roiling pit. Everyone was looking at me. Everyone was focused on thinking I was Senta’s lover. I reached for my water. The ice clicked against the sides. The water splashed a little against the rim before I got it to my mouth. I drank until the glass was half-empty.
The cold going down into my body helped calm me. I took a couple of deep breaths and glanced around the table. Everyone was back to chatting with each other. Senta was watching me, one eyebrow raised. He gave me a subtle nod and said, “The seafood pasta is one of our best dishes.”
“Oh. I’m glad I ordered it, then.” My voice sounded rough to my ears, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“I ordered the same. We’ll keep you well-fed here if nothing else.”
I blinked. “Oh. Yes.” I gulped. “I’m grateful.”
“I want you to have the best while you’re here.”
I searched my mind frantically for a subject. “Luca and you must’ve been good friends.”
“We were. Are. Just long-distance now.”
I nodded. “If not for Luca and my brother Bam, I don’t know where I’d be. And—and you. Thank you.”
“No need to keep thanking me.” His dark eyes seemed to wash over me and my cheeks felt like flame again.
I wasn’t behaving like a proper alpha. I might never again. Hondo said it shouldn’t matter. Proper was an indeterminate word that had nothing to do with reality and humans and trauma. We each had our own paths to take. If one was improper, he’d said, that had more to do with expectations of ill manners or of criminal acts.
