Mine.
My alpha didn't understand. He didn't understand and he despised that I was trying to turn away what he wanted, but it was for the best. She wasn't made for country life. No omega could be tough enough for such things. Especially an omega that looks and smells as sweet as her.
She's handling it just fine now.
My alpha was right, she was. But how long could she handle it before she can't? How long will it be before our omega finds something better and leaves us like our beta had?
She can't if you mark her. My alpha growled his opinion, but I could never mark her without her permission, and I'mpositive she would never give it, no matter how much I craved the ownership. Not after all the denial I'd done.
Mark her.
I growled my annoyance, ignoring the fact that the persistent pestering from my alpha caused my claws to extend, agitation consuming me. I used them to cut open a feed bag, before willing myself to calm enough for them to retract. No good could come from this line of thought, not when she couldn't stay, so I forced myself to concentrate on the things that mattered the most: my farm, my animals, my crops, and pushed the omega out of my mind.
It worked, sort of. At least I thought it did until I pushed through the door an hour after the sunset, only to have my senses assaulted by the mouthwatering smell of roasted beef and braised vegetables. I could have written it off as Bran or Leo, but the sight of the omega standing in my kitchen, barefoot with an apron on that was far too big for her, protecting her floral dress was practically my undoing.
There was no way I could live like this. This, her, it was pure torture.
Mine.
And fuck, my alpha wasn't helping any. Always spouting ownership on something he had no business declaring he owned.
Her head turned, sensing me in the doorway, her face lit up, blue eyes burning excitedly at seeing me, and I felt like shit for staying away the whole day when she clearly wanted me near, even knowing that staying away was for the best.
"Hi."
Gods, that voice of hers. I closed my eyes for a moment before replying. "Hey."
"You didn't come home for lunch."
"I've got a pregnant goat. I was moving her pen."
"Oh." While true, it clearly wasn't the only reason I didn't come home, and she knew it. "I sure would love to see her."
"Maybe." I toed off my muddy boots. "She's ready to pop any day now."
Her eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Yep. Actually, there are a few animals in various stages. We're about to have a nice collection of babies."
Her eyes grew soft at the mention of babies, and damn it, I had forgotten the pull that very word had on omegas. That babies were their sole purpose in life. And hell, if the circumstances were different and I could keep her, I'd have made that one of my purposes too. But I can't. This place... it isn't for her.
"Well, I can't wait," she smiled as Bran and Leo walked in, freshly showered and looking good enough to get my heart pounding. Fuck, between these three, I was really in trouble.
"Can't wait for what?" Leo asked, reaching over and snagging a chunk of roasted potato off the tray.
"The farm babies."
He crowded behind her, placing his palm on her hip as he leaned over her shoulder, his other hand stealing another vegetable from the baking sheet. "It's my favorite time of year around this place."
Before he pulled away, he placed a kiss on her neck, and her sharp breath told me she was as caught off guard as I was. He grabbed some plates from the counter and took them to the table, and when he passed me, I hissed out, "What are you doing?"
"Setting the table," he shrugged.
"That's not what I mean, and you know it," I growled low.
"I'm tired," he sighed. "You want us to fight our instincts and not keep her because of your pride? If you're sending her away at some point, why can't I savor the time we have left?"
She isn't going anywhere.
