And somehow, I think I'm the match.
"Maybe they're just protective," I offer, though I'm not sure why I'm making excuses for them. "Of you, I mean. Since your... presentation is so recent."
Darren's eyes darken. "That's exactly the problem. They can't seem to separate me from what I've become. I'm still the same person, but they're all walking on eggshells or hovering like I need constant protection."
The pain in his voice is raw, genuine. It resonates with the pain deep inside me. I've spent years being the beta who wasn't quite enough, who was always left behind when someone better came along. Good enough, until they found an omega. Darren's dealing with the opposite, but it's equally painful. Just in different ways.
Different circumstances, same core wound.
"That must be incredibly frustrating," I say softly.
"You have no idea." He stops the tapping, flattening his palm against the table as if physically restraining himself. "I'm sorry about all this. Tonight was supposed to be different."
"It's okay." I try for a reassuring smile, but it feels strained even to me. "Pack dynamics are complicated. I get that."
"They're not usually this weird," he insists, glancing toward the door where his packmates disappeared. "Something's off tonight. Even for those four."
I follow his gaze, wondering what the four alphas are discussing so urgently. Are they debating whether I'm good enough for their pack? Plotting how to get rid of me without making a scene? Or maybe they're just having second thoughts about the whole arrangement.
Can't even say I blame them. This situation is unusual by any standard.
A waiter approaches with the next course, some kind of artfully arranged fish dish that probably has ingredients imported form outer space. He sets the plates down with grace, either not noticing or politely ignoring the weird energy crackling between us and the conspicuous absence of two-thirds of our party.
"Will your friends be returning soon?" he asks Darren, the question casual but pointed.
"They'd better be," Darren mutters, then forces a smile. "Thank you."
As the waiter retreats, I set my napkin on the table. The knot in my core has tightened to the point where the thought of eating anything else makes me feel ill.
I take a sip of my wine, buying time. The truth is, I know exactly what's happening. I've seen it before. The awkward silences, the meaningful glances, the barely concealed discomfort. It's the same reaction I got from Mark's friendswhen he first introduced me, right before they started dropping hints about how he'd be happier with an omega.
Right before I found him in bed with one.
I'm the problem. The beta intruder in their alpha-omega dynamic.
Four times I've been in this position. Four times I've watched men I cared about slowly pull away as their friends, their potential packs, made it clear I wasn't what they needed. What they really wanted.
And now it's happening again, only faster. We haven't even made it through the first official date. I guess I should be grateful for that.
"I'm sorry," Darren says again, his voice laced with frustration. "This is the last way I wanted this night to go."
I force a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. "It's fine. Really."
But it's not fine. Nothing about this situation is fine. The four alphas have been gone for nearly ten minutes now, leaving us sitting in awkward silence surrounded by expensive food neither of us is eating. The waiter keeps glancing our way with barely concealed curiosity, probably wondering what kind of drama is unfolding in his section tonight.
If only he knew.
I set my fork down, no longer pretending to have an appetite. The fish, some delicate white fillet with a sauce that probably took hours to prepare, sits mostly untouched on my plate. Such a waste.
"I think..." I start, then pause, searching for the right words. "I think maybe your pack isn't as ready for this as you are."
Darren's face falls, a flash of hurt crossing his features before he masks it. "They promised they'd give this—giveus—a chance."
The sincerity in his voice makes my chest ache. He really wanted this to work. Wanted me to meet his pack, to potentiallybecome part of it. The thought should be flattering, exciting even. Instead, it just highlights how impossible this whole situation is.
"I know," I say softly. "But intentions and reality don't always align."
I glance toward the door again. Still no sign of them. What could they possibly be discussing for this long? Whatever it is, it can't be good for me.
