Page 4 of Omega's Flight
"Oh, that's wonderful." I kissed his cheek because it was a good thing to hear right before Christmas. "I have some news for you too."
"Oh?" he said, amused. "What is it?"
"Hang on," I told him and did my best to crawl over him without letting too much cold air in under the blanket, or elbowing him in the stomach as I went by. He made some displeased noises, but they weren't serious ones, just the kind an alpha made when their omega was being silly or thoughtless. But what I wanted was in the drawer of the bedside table my brother had given us as a mating gift.
"I went to Stores today," I said casually as I crawled back across him, my surprise hidden in my hand.
"Were we out of something?" He didn't sound pleased, but I'd been expecting that. It wasn't normal for me to make an extra trip down because we lived so far away from the building.
"Well," I said consideringly. "Yes and no. I went down to get one of these." And I opened my hand and showed him the pregnancy test in the light of the moon shining in our window. The two blue lines in the little hollow stood out starkly in the moonlight. "We're going to have another pup." I waited a moment for Degan to say something and when he didn't, I charged on with determined optimism. "I hope it's a boy."
Degan stared at the test. He made no move to touch it or take it, just stared at it, while my stomach began to sink.
I wanted to ask him if he was happy, except I wasn't that brave. Something was wrong, but I didn't know what. "The timing is pretty good, right? I mean, if you're getting work outside walls at this time of year, that's good. And you have the contract for the spring. And the cars." Surely things were turning around?
Finally, he reached for the test. I thought it might be so he could look more closely at it, but instead, he cupped it in his palm and slowly bent it until it broke in half. "Do you omegas only think with your wombs?" he asked, his tone vicious. "What are we supposed to do with a fourth pup?" He threw the test across the room. I watched it soar, mesmerized by the gracefulness of its flight. It made small ticking noises as it bounced off the wall and fell to the floor. "You idiot! Why didn't you do something?"
Do something? What was I supposed to do? I was in heat, it was what heats were for. Degan hadn't wanted to wait, and it wasn't like I caught every time. If anything, our three pups were just short of miracles. Only Pip had been the result of my first heat of the season. The others, I had found out I was pregnant after my second heat. Just like I had with this one. "You're not happy about the baby? But it could be an alpha."
"I only got this spot because one of the guys put in an application to go to Winter River to find a mate and it's just been arranged. He'll be back for the spring season. And the summer work just got cut, so we're only getting half the days we were promised."
"Oh, no! Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know!" I apologized, because that was what I did, but why was this all my fault?
Because I was omega.
"Damn it," he muttered and threw himself out of bed. "Get out."
"What? Degan, no! I'm sure something will come up."
"Get out of my bed!" he grabbed fistfuls of the sheets and tore them off the bed, leaving me naked in the cold. "I don't care where you sleep, but I want you out of my bed!" He took my wrist and dragged me out, onto the floor. I was afraid, but this definitely wasn't the worst fight we'd had. I'd sleep on the couch tonight and then tomorrow he'd have gotten used to the idea. He'd been the same when Pip was born; he'd wanted a boy.
My mate didn't like change. And an extra pup with no extra income would be a stress for him.
He'd be better tomorrow.
I did my best not to make any noise—the pups didn't need to see this. As much as I could, I got my legs underneath me and stagger-walked beside him out to the living room. He threw me down in front of the front door and for that instant, I worried he'd throw me out it, but instead he turned and stormed off back to our bedroom, slamming the door behind him. I winced and prayed that the pups were tired enough not to hear the noise.
All through my teen years, I'd heard the stories of alphas schooling their omega mates. I hadn't wanted that, hadn't wanted to be the kind of mate that needed that sort of supervision. I'd worked hard to be certain that I wouldn't be, but here I was. Maybe it was inevitable. I didn't know.
I thought we'd had something different.
My heart beat sixty times before I dared get up, but if he'd put me here, I was to stay here, at least until his temper cooled. My knees stung from landing on the rough fiber mat in front of the door, but when I ran my hand over them, they didn't seem scraped up, so it was probably just the impact. I found the half-finished blanket in my sewing basket where I'd left it, and dug a pair of jeans and a sweater out of the bag of clean laundry that I still had to fold and put away.
The rattle of a plastic tumbler rolling over the floor startled me and I dropped the clothes and spun. It was Henry, standing in the door of the pups' room. "What are you doing up, baby boy?"
"Firsty," he said with a finger in his mouth, but his eyes were wide.
"Well, we can get you a little drink, but you have to go pee first." I wasn't going to risk him wetting the bed tonight.
We snuck down the hallway to the bathroom and had to wait for nearly twenty minutes before his bladder decided to give up its contents. Then I took him to the kitchen for a drink and a cuddle, then back to bed so we could both get some rest before morning.
I finished getting dressed—I'd forgotten in my panic over Henry—then made myself a little nest on the couch. Tomorrow morning, I'd get up before everyone, make a nice breakfast, and then once Degan was off to work, and Ann and Pip were off to school, I'd take Henry with me and see if I could find some way to fix the problem of another baby and no money.
C H A P T E R 4
A s planned, I got up long before everyone else, creeping silently about the house like I was Midwinter Wolf himself. I had mixed up some bread the night before and left it to slow rise on the counter while we slept. If I timed it right, I could put the bread on to bake while I ran with the laundry to the pack's communal laundry room to grab a couple of washers before anyone else. Otherwise, I'd have to wait for a washing machine and then spend that time, my quiet time, running back and forth between the house and the laundry, hoping to catch a free machine.
Sometimes, I used those quiet hours in the morning to mend or knit or sew, but more often, I stole them from my responsibilities to read a book. Usually, they were cookbooks or magazines brought in from human libraries, full of cleaning tips and new recipes that I mostly couldn't afford to try. But—and I blamed this on Bax in the most fond of ways—sometimes I could get my hands on a romance novel, one of the ones that circulated among the bearers and housekeepers. I usually ended up in trouble for it, because my housework would go undone as I got lost in the stories, so I didn't borrow them as often as I wanted. And really, what was the point of teasing myself? None of these stories would ever be my life.
