Page 71 of Pack Rivals: Part Two
My dad stares at my mom and then at me.
“Huh?”
“I’m an omega. I presented in the city. It seems the presence of alphas triggered it.” I point to my mom, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed, glaring at me like I just confessed to robbing a bank. “Mom doesn’t believe me.”
“Why not?” my dad asks, turning back to my mom. “Why would Bea lie about something like this?”
“Exactly,” I mumble.
“Because she’s confused,” my mom insists. “The big city and my wayward sister have got her all confused.”
“I’m not confused. I can show you all the pills the doctors prescribed me if you want.”
“You don’t need to do that,” my dad says.
My mom bursts into tears and rushes from the kitchen.
My dad pours himself a cup of coffee and pulls out a chair around the table.
“I thought we had a real emergency on our hands. Like the roof had caved in or you got your head caught in the railings again.”
“One time,” I say to him. “One time I did that.”
My dad blows across his coffee and takes a long sip.
“I’m never going to let you forget it.” He lowers his cup. “It’s good to see you, cupcake.”
“I’m not sure Mom agrees.” I glance towards the doorway.
“She’ll come round. It’s just a shock.”
“Tell me about it,” I mumble.
“Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”
I point towards the door and my dad nods.
“And I guess I’ve been coming to terms with it myself, trying to get my head around it, while dealing with all the crazy hormones and–” My dad shifts uncomfortably on his seat. “Sorry Dad.”
“No, it’s fine,” he takes a mouthful of coffee, “go ahead.”
I smile at him. “You really want to hear about my sex life?”
He gulps. “Why are you back?”
“Money,” I sigh. “I couldn’t find a job in the city.”
“You?” my dad says. “How’s that possible? No one wants to hire my wonderful daughter? Now I know you’re lying.”
“They don’t want to hire an omega.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” I say, scratching my nails along the table top. “Because they assume I’ll last five minutes before I’m whisked off by some pack of alphas. Or maybe they’re just freaking bigots.”
My dad frowns. “Pack of alphas?” he says.
“That’s what every omega wants, apparently.”
