Page 4 of Abel's Omega
The pain his words brought robbed me of breath, left me curled over my knees while I wished I’d never been born. I couldn’t lose my babies! They were all I had. I loved them so much… I looked up and saw the concern in his face, and something else…desire. I’d always known he enjoyed looking at me. He’d more than once complimented me on the bright green of my eyes, the fairness of my skin, the silky blackness of my hair. “Salvodoro, please, there must be some other way. Please don’t take my babies away, they’re all I have left…” I let my voice trail off, and hoped he’d take it as the desire to keep something of Patrick’s. His expression wavered between firmness and his innate need to care for the members of his pack.
I needed to fan the flames of that need, or of any other need he had. As much as it sickened me to do it, I put a hand on his chest, just enough pressure to indicate willingness, and spread my legs slightly, though my Omega line was only barely sealed. Sex now would hurt, but I could fake it. I had, for most of my mating—I could do it again for my babies. And again, if need be. However many times it took.
His head dipped and for a moment I thought I’d won, but I had miscalculated, badly.
Salvodoro’s expression hardened and he reared away from me. “How dare you? Your mate only two weeks dead and you’re throwing yourself at another man?” He stood up, shoving me backwards on the couch. “You don’t deserve any consideration.”
“No, Salvodoro, wait!” I stumbled after him, falling to my knees in front of the door to keep him from leaving. “Please, listen!” I was bawling, and there was no way anyone could say I was pretty now, but I didn’t care. “Please, they’re my life. Everything has been for them and for Patrick. I’ll do anything to stay with them. Please, help me. I don’t know what to do.” And I collapsed on the floor at his feet.
The back door slammed and Fan came running in. He stopped dead at the sight of his bearer on the floor at a man’s feet, and I hastily wiped my cheeks and did my best to hide my distress. “Hello, sweetheart. Are you looking for something?”
“What’s wrong, Dabi?” He gave Salvodoro a suspicious look and came to pat me on the shoulder. “It’ll be all right. Don’t cry.”
I smiled at him and pulled him into a hug. “I know, sweetie.” I kissed him on the cheek. “Are you hungry? Where’s your sister?”
“In the yard.” He still looked uncertain, a not-quite-four-year-old trying to understand an adult’s world.
Salvodoro sighed. I looked up to find him watching us, and I thought he maybe understood some of my pain.
“I’ll talk to Roland. There may be a way to sort this out. At least for now.”
I nodded, and blinked back tears of gratitude. “Thank you.” I hugged my baby closer and repeated, “Thank you.”
That evening, he came back to see me. He found me in the kitchen, feeding Beatrice mashed up carrots while the older two ate sandwiches at the table and the baby slept against my chest. “Roland has agreed to stand guardian for you and your babies, at least until you’ve had a chance to mourn Patrick. He agrees with me that it’s too quick, and we can revisit it later, once you’ve recovered and the baby is older.”
I doubted very much that that was how Roland had put it, but I appreciated Salvodoro’s care for my feelings. “I am so very grateful.”
“He wants to move in here tomorrow, get the business of the pack back on even footing.”
“I’ll pack tonight. Where am I going?”
Salvodoro started to look uncomfortable, but I didn’t care, as long I was with my babies. “There are no homes to put you in.”
I paused in scraping carrot off Beatrice’s chin. “Then where will we go?”
He glanced away and muttered, “He’s asked that you move your personal possessions into the porch at the back of the house. He says also that he’ll feed you out of his allotment, but in exchange you’ll take care of the house for him. The credit in Patrick’s account is Fan’s, and Noah’s, but he’s agreed that you should have access for necessities for the pups.”
The porch? They were moving the children of the late Alpha into a porch to live? I might have hated Patrick, but he would never have done something like that. Still, I had no rights, and no one to argue for me. I was lucky they’d let me keep the credit. “What can I take from the house in the way of furniture?”
“He says you can have the cradle, and the baby bed, since he won’t need them. Anything you need for the baby, you can take. You can have the extra dresser in the smallest bedroom, and he’ll allot you blankets and sheets from the house supply.”
The edges of my vision went dark for a moment, and only an effort so ugly it would have scared small children kept me from bursting into tears. I pushed my emotions away, telling myself that it was just the change in hormones after Noah’s birth, but I didn’t really believe myself.
This was going to be horrible.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Baxter!”
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. I set down the pot I was scrubbing and scurried into the living room. “Yes, sir?”
“Get me another beer, and something to eat.” Roland, Alpha of the Jackson-Jellystone Pack, turned back to the TV. I paused in the doorway to see what had set the Alpha’s temper on edge. It looked like a special news program, showing a trial going on in another shifter enclave. Mercy Hills—I’d heard that name before. When I was young, I used to wish I’d been born there.
I lingered in the doorway as long as I thought it was safe, drinking in the details of the trial, and the people involved until nerves and a healthy sense of self-preservation kicked in. With a last wistful glance at the TV screen, I ducked back into the kitchen to pull together a thick roast beef sandwich with a side of potato chips, and a beer dripping with condensation.
“Took you long enough,” muttered the Alpha, but he picked up one half of the sandwich and began to chew without further comment.
The program was still on, so I looked for things to do around the room, an excuse to remain and listen in. The name Jason Mercy Hills came up a couple of times, and it hit me with a blinding flash that he was an omega, and that Mercy Hills was fighting with his birth pack over rights to him. The camera zoomed in on a young omega, heavily pregnant, leaning on the arm of an attractive red-haired man the newscaster called Mac. Then it moved to show a human male who spoke on their behalf. Behind him stood the young and handsome Alpha, Abel Mercy Hills. I’d actually seen him once in real life, when he’d traveled here to discuss something with Patrick. All I remembered of that visit was Patrick’s displeasure, and the Mercy Hills Alpha’s quiet intensity.
