“Welcome,” said a male omega with glasses and over-grown black hair. He smelled like almonds. “Help yourself to some snacks. We have tea, coffee, juice.”
“Thank you.” I walked to the table and made myself a simple peppermint tea. Minutes later we all took our seats in the circle of plastic chairs.
“Everyone close in,” said the almond omega. They scooted their chairs in and I did the same, until everyone’s knees were brushing up against their neighbour’s. “Touch is an essential part of being an omega,” he said. “Let’s all take a deep breath.”
The circle did as instructed. I smelled cookies, and coffee, and muffins and tea. It was comforting. I exhaled.
“My name is Killian,” said the almond omega. “If we’re ready, who would like to go first?”
One by one the omegas shared their stories. An older male omega still hadn’t found a pack, or a scent match, a young girl was being pressured by her mother to auction her first heat, another was dating a beta but was terrified that she’d one day meet her scent match, a fourth fell into debt on some bad bets during the Dinghy Races last year, one’s omega sister was missing without a trace.
When the circle came around to me, I took a deep breath. “My name is Skye… And–”
My voice quivered and my eyes burned. Tears pooled, then slipped down my cheeks. I sobbed, I couldn’t help it, and I couldn’t stop. The omegas next to me both rubbed my back as I just let myself cry. The one with the missing sister tore some tissues from the box and handed them to me.
“I’m sorry,” I whimpered, fighting for self-control. “I’m sorry. I…”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” she said.
“This is a safe place,” said the one dating the beta. “We won’t judge you.”
Someone draped a soft blanket over my shoulders and I wrapped it around myself. It was warm and comforting. Itcalmed me. I glanced up and saw it was Killian who brought the blanket.
“A few months back,” I cleared my throat and dabbed at my nose with the tissue. “I had a heart transplant. I…” I twisted the edge of the blanket up in my hands, wringing it like a rag. “I haven’t really cried about it yet I guess.”
I hadn’t mourned myself, my future. Nor had I mourned the omega who had given me her heart, or my relationship with Severen. I hadn’t put to rest what I had imagined for myself in my adjustment to my new reality, or the complicated feelings about Rowan that were growing within me. It was all so much. Maybe too much. I needed that cry.
“It’s just a hard adjustment,” I said. “New medications. New scars. New rules and routines.”
“How are your alphas handling it?” asked the omega in debt. “Are they taking care of you?”
“They are. Good care of me. It’s just not what any of us signed up for, you know?”
“It never is,” Killian said.
“Thank you,” I took another deep breath. “I feel better now.”
The meeting concluded soon after that, and I eased into the background, retreating to the bathroom. I just wanted to wash my face and flee. The catharsis was nice and while it still stung, it also gave me a new perspective. I had to figure things out, how to organize my new reality, and that included where, exactly, Rowan fit within it.
Chapter 30
ROWAN
Itwasn’tagoodday. I had taken the morning shift at work and for some reason, humanity collectively decided to be a dick. I had to deal with arrogant tech bros, impatient soccer moms, and screaming children. The screaming children were the worst. One decided to throw his mom’s cappuccino onto the floor. The mug shattered against the ground, and a small lake of piping hot coffee and foam fanned out into the little nooks between the floor tiles. Why couldn’t this place have a trendy, industrial aesthetic? Of course, I had to mop it up, and get her a new coffee on the house. We were already packed, and understaffed and what am I doing with my life?
I was ten minutes away from clocking out when I caught the scent of blueberries. I glanced out into the seating area and sawSkye walk through the door. Her chunky knit cardigan swayed around her body as she came to the ordering counter. Her smile was dazzling and instantly eased my aggravation.
“Hey stranger,” she said when it was her turn to order.
“Long time no see.” It had been three days since our little dog park date.
“I was in the neighbourhood.”
“Where’s everyone else?” I glanced around the restaurant for any sign of her pack.
“Just me.” She gave a cunning, almost sneaky grin. “I took the bus.”
This made me pause, and I suspected she had something up her sleeve. I grinned a little. “What can I get you?”
