Page 80 of In Deep
The day I left for university, packing up the last of my things into boxes, I’d promised my little sisters I was going to make something of myself. That I would find my own way in this world. Without an alpha. They’d looked up at me, wide-eyed and in awe. If I could do it, so could they.
My mother had stood in the doorway, arms crossed, silently rolling her eyes.
She’d wanted to send me to a college for omegas, where I’d be paraded and pimped and match-made with a suitable alpha.
“One who can keep you safe and provide for you and your children,” she explained, flashing the glossy brochures beneath my nose.
She sneered at my insistence that I wanted to study physics, laughed when I sent off my application to this college, secretly enrolled me in the omega college anyway.
“You won’t last five minutes on your own, Rosie,” she whispered into my ear as she kissed my cheek and my sisters waved me goodbye.
But I’d proven her wrong, hadn’t I? Securing my grades and my place here. Showing I could go it alone. Never imagining I’d be just as vulnerable as every other omega to the charms of seductive alphas.
Fuck!
So I get the hell on with things. Sophia throws me anxious, sideways glances, but I ignore them. I go to my lecture and my class. And when I return later that afternoon, Zane is sitting outside my room, leaning against the door, spinning a pair of sunglasses in his hands. When he sees me, he jumps up, and I note immediately the usual mischief in his eyes is missing.
Or is that wishful thinking? Hoping he feels this pain as acutely as I do.
“Rosie,” he says.
I shake my head. I already know what he’s going to say. “You’ve come to break up with me.”
For once, he seems lost for words. The man who always gets what he wants can’t find a way to make this situation work. He opens then closes his mouth.
“Seb’s … Seb’s pulling rank, Rosie.”
I nod my head. I knew he would. “He’s objecting to our relationship.”
“He’s convinced you’re only interested in us for our money.”
I stare at him, shocked. Money? What? Is he trying to keep the real reason for his rejection of me secret?
“You know that’s not true,” I say.
“Of course, I do.” He fiddles with the glasses in his hand, opening and closing the arms. “But there’s no telling him. He won’t be reasoned with. And I can’t go against my pack mate’s wishes.”
“Especially Seb’s.” He winces. “I won’t come between you and your pack,” I tell him. “I won’t be the cause of heartache between you.”
“Fucking hell, Rosie,” he says miserably, “my heart aches now.”
I swallow down a choke that makes my eyes sting. “Don’t, Zane,” I beg him.
“We can make it work …” he mutters, but I can see he doesn’t believe it. He knows the truth as well as I do. “I could leave the pack–”
“And leave Duncan, destroy the team. You couldn’t desert your brothers like that. We both know it. And I won’t let you throw away your chances at the Olympics.”
He looks utterly crushed. We both know there is no other way. His head drops in defeat. “I’m sorry, Rosie.”
I step towards him. Desperate, needy, for one last touch, I reach out and stroke his forearm. “I’ll never regret it.”
He half smiles, capturing my hand and squeezing it, giving me unspoken words in the pressure of his fingers.
“Tell the others not to come,” I say, my words catching in my throat. “I don’t think I can do this over and over again.”
He nods, drops my hand and walks away.
They do as I ask, and they don’t come. Although I find a bunch of purple thistles on my doorstep one day and a book of Shakespeare’s sonnets the next. Their way of saying sorry, of saying goodbye.
