Page 6 of Omega's Flight
As for the millstone, I had no doubt that they were talking about me. I glanced up at Degan, and found him staring at me with that familiar expression, the one that showed he'd been reminded of something he didn't like to think about and that I'd better take care to turn him up sweet later on. I dropped my eyes respectfully and said, "Ivory is only a pup. I don't think she knows what she's talking about. There's no millstones here."
"But—" she started again.
"No," I interrupted. "Eat your lunch." I frowned at her, which put an effective stop to the topic of conversation.
We finished our meal and I brought out the last of the cookies I'd made two days ago. Degan got two, with one for each of the pups. I didn't keep one for myself, because I'd counted what was left and, if no one stole any through the night, I had enough left to last the next two days and then I would have to bake something again.
I'd made the mistake when newly mated of ensuring that there was always something sweet to end off a meal, thinking that the credits would always be there to buy the ingredients, and now everyone was so used to it the uproar when I didn't have a pudding or a cookie or a bit of cake was deafening.
And, on occasion, painful. But I tried not to think about that. Tempers often ran high in the pack, especially when work was hard to find. Really, other than the incident over Bax's shirt, the only time Degan had ever gotten rough with me was a day early in our mating, just after Pip had been born. I'd said something careless, only to find out later he'd just lost his job outside walls and would be living on the stipend for a while unless the pack needed him for something.
Since then, I'd put more thought into everything I said around him, he'd gotten in as an apprentice with the pack's mechanics, and we'd gotten along pretty well. At least, he'd kept his hands to himself, unless we enjoying our mated privileges.
And what was wrong with me today, anyway? It wasn't like he was worse than any other mate I could have had and better than being sent to work in the public houses in Nevada Ashes. I knew omegas and even deltas who were worse off than me—I needed to get a grip on my mood. But that was one of my problems—I tended to hold tight to the darker moods, and let the happier ones flit away. Now that I had the pups, I'd gotten better at putting on a cheerful face, but the commentary running behind the face could sometimes make me wish I never had to get out of bed again.
While my family ate their cookies, I took the dishes to the sink and started to wash them. I made myself smile and recited my happy list to myself as I scrubbed. It wasn't anything special, just things that I was grateful for, nice things that had happened, small events that made me or my family happy. And slowly it began to work.
Ann, being the oldest, gathered the cookie plates off the table and brought them to me, then ran off to brush her teeth. "You too," I told Pip and Henry and gave them a stern look when they hesitated.
"Get," Degan said, and they got, without a word of protest. It made me sigh, but then again, I didn't want my pups to do things for me because they were afraid of me, but because they loved me and wanted to please me.
We were very different, my mate and I.
Degan came to stand beside me at the sink. "Just found out we're going outside walls on Full Moon now. Special permit," he told me. "I need my clothes all clean for the week, because we're staying in a motel."
"How wonderful!" I exclaimed, and meant it. It would do him good to have the extra couple of days of work, and—if I were to be honest—I'd enjoy having the house to myself for that time. Quickly I dried my hands on a dishtowel and turned toward him. "Is it just a few of you, or is there a group?" I moved in close and stroked my hands over the planes of his chest. He was well-muscled, my mate, with a fine body. I'd never recoiled at performing my mated duties for him in that way.
He seemed to read my mind, the way alphas always seemed to read the amorous intentions of their omega mates. "No, it's a bunch of us." Then, in a burst of unusual generosity, he asked, "Would you like me to bring you anything back? Cloth, food? Kitchen things?" His arm slid around my waist and I let my body mold to his. "Maybe, if the job gets extended even longer, a trinket?" He traced the hollow at the base of my neck and I gasped as it sent electric shivers over my skin. "You'd look good with a chain around your neck. Gold, I think, to complement your hair."
"I trust you," I said, because I knew he liked to hear those sorts of things. "Whatever you think is best." I raised my mouth to his and kissed him, as a promise for tonight.
He grinned and slapped my ass when the kiss was over. "I'll see what I can find."
The pups came back, tromping noisily into the kitchen. I noticed Pip's eyes were red and I hoped she'd just been playing with the soap and had gotten some in them, but then she sniffed, loudly.
Tensely, I waited, but that one sniff was it, so I crossed my fingers and hoped they weren't coming down with the same thing my nieces and nephews had. Then, while Degan gathered up Pip and Ann, I turned back to the dishes and we were back to our usual routine. But the promise of tonight still shone like hope in my mind.
C H A P T E R 6
T he pups didn't seem too bad when they got home so when Degan offered to take them out to play so I could start getting the food ready for tomorrow's Full Moon, I jumped at the chance. He let them kick a soccer ball around for a while, teaching them the finer points of bouncing the ball on their knees and off their heads while I laughed at them all from the doorway in between getting my work done. We hadn't really talked about the new pup, but he'd made efforts with the pups and with me for the last couple of days, which was his usual way of apologizing.
However, when we got up the next day the pups had gone from the occasional sniffle to full on sick. I kept the girls home from school, it was that bad, and spent most of the day running with bowls to catch them throwing up, and glasses of water in an attempt to get them to keep something down. Degan had gotten some stomach settling tea from his mother and something else to try to bring the fever down. I'd made some broth and spooned some into each of the pups, but it was a long exhausting day.
Tomorrow morning at curfew, the alphas would be leaving for their first day of work outside walls. I still hadn't come up with any solution to our financial problems, but maybe when Degan came back we could sit down and have a reasoned discussion. If worst came to worst, there was always the herbwoman—no one would be surprised if I lost this one, if they even knew I was pregnant. My pregnancies were always...problematic.
But just the thought of that made me sick to my stomach and I found myself looking at Degan differently from how I always had. And sometime, not long after I'd had that thought, I realized that whatever love I'd once felt for him had died, withered away for lack of tending, like a flower overgrown by weeds.
He was a habit now, not a lover.
I felt sorry for it, but there was a certain peace in the knowledge as well. I lied to myself all the time, to make my life bearable. It would be good to have one less falsehood to force myself to believe.
It was getting late, the sky outside the windows long since gone black, and Degan hadn't gotten home yet. I was starting to get worried, because he was never home this long after the pups' usual bedtime. At the same time, I was grateful for the extra hours, because the pups were still restless with fever and at least one of them was up every twenty minutes to get sick or beg a cuddle or a glass of water, and I hadn't yet finished the mending on the last of Degan's workshirts or gotten to the last of the laundry to make sure he had enough clean clothes for the week.
After what seemed like forever, I finally had them all in bed and asleep at the same time. I settled into my mending chair outside their door with my candle and the last of Degan's work shirts and began to piece together the long ragged hole in the arm with the tiniest, neatest stitches I could make, so he would go out into the world looking tidy.
"Papa?" I heard Ann's voice from the doorway and I could have cried with frustration.
"Yes, sweetie."
