Page 66 of Omega's Flight
B ax had been right—an afternoon to myself, a hot bath, and a ridiculously romantic novel were exactly what I needed. I picked out two, feeling entirely decadent, and spent the first part of the afternoon turning my fingers and toes into prunes while my mind escaped the uncertainty of my current situation. I'd never met a fireman in real life, but after reading the first half of this book, I was tempted to start setting fires.
And it was a book one, which meant I had more to look forward to.
I carefully put the novel away in the top drawer of my dresser and got dressed again. The pups would be out of school soon, but I had a few minutes still to myself.
One of the things I'd gotten on my last trip to replenish my cupboards had been a pad of clean, unlined paper and a set of colored pencils. I'd splurged on those, getting a large pack with more than the standard eight or ten colors. Yes, there was some guilt when I retrieved them from the dresser drawer, but not enough to make me take them back. Just the smell of them, new and sharp and waiting for me to use them made the day seem brighter.
But what to draw?
I picked up a regular pencil, one with a soft lead that I could smudge if I wanted and stared at the first page of the notebook. I thought about drawing Bax again, but I'd already done that recently. And what would I do with a picture of him?
The pups. I could draw them. But I did that all the time—I wanted to draw something new, different. The urge to draw Cas bloomed in my mind and I squashed it down almost before I was aware of it. Not appropriate. And guilt inducing—I’d thrown out the one sketch I’d started, too poisoned with guilt over Degan. If I couldn’t sketch my mate, the alpha I’d shared my life and body with, I shouldn’t itch to make Cas’s face a permanent part of my art.
My mind drifted back to Midwinter Moon and a brief glimpse I'd gotten of the Alpha and his Mate, heads together whispering things that I suspected weren't pack-related. They'd looked happy and in love, Holland's body curved toward Quin's like a willow tree on a creek bank, Quin with one of Holland's hands in his and a smile on his face that would melt the coldest heart.
Almost without thought, my hand began to move on the paper, sketching out the outlines of two people together. It wasn't an easy image to capture—not the people themselves, but the emotion I wanted the picture to have. I erased and sketched and erased again, until I had the shape of them right, then began adding in the details of their forms.
"That's beautiful," said a man's voice behind me and I jumped, the pencil skittering off the side of the page. The picture was ruined now, maybe, or... I set the notepad aside, image down, and got warily to my feet. The air was filled with human scent and I quickly put the chair between me and the human leaning over me.
Mac stood behind him with his arms crossed over his chest and an exasperated expression on his face. "Raleigh, I'd like you to meet Jesse Mutch. His family bought all the property owned by the pack of the first Alpha of Mercy Hills and made their fortune on it. He's the one who set up the trusts." His voice was pleasant enough, but the words he chose informed me that he was frustrated with the human. "I'm sorry, we could see you through the door and you didn't hear us knocking."
The human held out a hand toward me expectantly. I stared at it for a moment until I remembered the human lawyer, and Cas when we'd first met laughing about his human reactions, then reached tentatively across the distance between us to grip his hand in mine and let him move it how he willed.
"Hello, I hope you're settling in here," the human said, his teeth bared—no, it was a grin. He just came off like an alpha, and his posture was very forward, like he'd never been taught manners. If he'd been my pup, I'd have made him come back in through the door and do everything politely, but he was human, and Mac was standing behind him wearing a pained look, so I put on my own best manners. Teaching by example.
"I am. I'm very happy here." I flicked a glance at Mac, hoping for a hint. Medeina bless him, he must have learned a bit about omegas being mated to Jason.
"Mr. Mutch wanted to check in with you, see if you needed anything. He's very interested in the status of omegas and wants to see things go back closer to what they used to be."
Closer to what they used to be? Ah, like the journals. "Oh." I made my tone as bland as possible and watched Mac to see what direction I needed to jump in.
"Yes. You know, omegas used to be well-respected and powerful in the packs. I think that unbalance has caused a lot of the problems we're currently seeing, and if we can bring the omegas back to what they were, then we can change the way the packs behave, integrate them back into society."
Mac grimaced behind him, so I just nodded and waited quietly for him to get to whatever it was he wanted.
He glanced around, taking in the walls—in need of paint—the scuffed floor, the chipped cupboard doors. "What happened to the new residential construction that was going on?"
"Money's going to the hospital right now. We're doing all right," Mac said gruffly. He took a half step toward the doorway and out of the corner of my eye I saw him pull his phone out of his pocket. Mutch, on the other hand, took a half step farther into the kitchen.
Immediately, I put my hand out for my sketchbook, closing it up and putting away the colored pencils. "Do you draw?" Mutch asked and held out a hand. He expected me to just put my sketchbook in his hand, like he owned me.
But, if he was giving money to the pack—and it sounded like a lot of money from random things Bax and Holland and Bram had said—maybe he did. Reluctantly, I let him have the book and busied myself with organizing the pencils so all the colors were together.
The pages made that dry scraping noise they give off when the edges rub against something. "This is beautiful," the human said after a moment. "You've really captured them." He held the pad of paper out to Mac. I reached out as it to snatch it back but stopped myself before I could make a scene and pulled my hand to my chest, balling the collar of my t-shirt up in it to keep from reaching out again.
Mac gave it a perfunctory glance, then a second, slower one. "Did you do the one in Abel's office, too?"
"I don't know," I said slowly and gazed longingly at the pad. I wanted it back, wanted that piece of my soul safely in my possession again.
"It's that sketch of Bax, done in charcoal," Mac explained. He raised his eyes to mine, then closed up the pad and handed it back to me.
I clutched it to my chest and smiled up at him in gratitude. "Thank you," I whispered.
Mac tipped his head to one side and eyed me with more curiosity than he'd ever shown before. There was no smell of mating interest about him, but he was already mated to Jason. There was little doubt that he was head over tail in love with his omega, but his expression was intent in the same way an alpha was intent when he saw another shifter that intrigued him. Physically.
It should have made me uncomfortable, but something about it felt more like family wondering how to ask a favor. I noticed the human looking back and forth between us, obviously lost in the silent communication between me and Mac, and promptly ignored him in favor of Mac. "What?"
"Do you think you could do that for the pups? Macy and Seb? I mean, we have photos of them, but I bet Jason would like a nice drawing, and I could ask Duke to make a frame for it."
