Page 3 of A Real Alpha (Lunar City)

Connor

This is a very bad idea , I thought as Oscar unlocked the door.

He pushed it open and then stepped back for me to enter ahead of him. I didn't move, suddenly sure that he would slam the door shut behind me and lock it from the outside, the same way that Harry had.

He wasn't as imposing as Harry, but he was still an alpha and a good six inches taller than me.

So, I squared my shoulders and shook my head, trying not to appear timid.

“After you,” I said.

He seemed to understand my hesitance and to my relief, he didn't argue. Instead, he went into his apartment without waiting for me.

While his willingness to concede helped, it still took me a moment to talk myself into following him.

I had just gotten out of this situation. Holed up with an alpha who had control of me... Harry had never pretended that it was for my sake, though.

That didn't mean I trusted Oscar.

A cold wind suddenly gusted through the alleyway, rattling the staircase that I was standing on, and even though Roscoe didn't react under his blanket, the weight of him in my arms while I stood in the cold made my feet move forward.

Oscar's apartment was like a warm hug. Just like the cafe it sat upon; it smelled like the baked goods from the kitchen below.

It wasn't a new place, but it was spacious, open, and decorated in a cozy way, with throws on the couches and soft rugs underfoot.

Even the lighting, when he flipped on the lamps added to the atmosphere. Then, there were the bookshelves.

Don't ask me why, but it was hard to imagine a man who spent his time reading with a cup of coffee was going to be violent.

The slightest bit of stress eased from my shoulders.

“Are you hungry?” Oscar asked, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge.

I was, but I didn't want him to think I owed him something. Bad enough that I'd agreed to stay here.

“I'm fine,” I said.

He didn't turn to look at me, but I noticed the way he paused before choosing what to say next.

“I'm making myself dinner anyway,” he said. “I'll just throw some extra on, just in case.”

I shrugged uneasily when he glanced back at me, and he smiled like this was all so normal.

Maybe it was for him, I mused. Maybe he liked to help people out and offer his couch to those like me.

It was hard to believe there might be others like that in the world, let alone in Lunar City, but I was just going to have to go with it for now and see if my suspicions were true.

Hopefully I was doing the right thing by being here.

“Why don't you sit down, get comfy with your little one...” he trailed off and then chuckled, giving me an amused look. “You know,” he said. “I was going to ask his name, but then I realized I still didn't get yours.”

I could see the humor. He'd invited me into his house and didn't know a single thing about me.

“You must not have very good survival skills,” I said. “How do you know I'm not a murderer?”

He grinned. “Are you?”

I shook my head, snorting. I was the furthest thing from it, but I didn't need him to know just how much of a pushover I really could be.

“My name’s Connor,” I finally replied. “This is Roscoe.”

“Connor and Roscoe,” he repeated, smiling softly. “Well, make yourselves at home.”

Home? That word wasn’t one I thought of fondly, yet here, in Oscar’s space, it didn’t give me the same feeling of hopelessness that it usually did.

I watched Oscar taking things out of the cupboards for dinner for a few seconds before deciding to take him up on the offer and settling down on the comfortable couch.

Just being able to lay Roscoe down for a bit was a relief. He looked up at me with those wide blue eyes he'd gotten from Harry, seeming completely content.

“Did a full day cuddling Daddy suit you just fine?” I asked quietly, and he gargled, kicking his legs and arms as I rubbed his little tummy.

I smiled. It was a relief to know that the trauma was all on me. Little Ros had no idea what all the yelling and snarling had been about earlier. All he knew was that he'd been safe in Daddy's arms. He’d continue to be safe in Daddy’s arms, if I had anything to say about it.

I bent and kissed his forehead, laughing softly when he instinctively grasped and pulled my hair.

By the time I disentangled myself from his surprisingly strong baby grip, he was singing, gargling, and looking around.

Glancing toward the kitchen, I wondered if Oscar was annoyed by all the noise, but he didn't appear to mind.

For a minute, I watched him move around the space, adding spices to whatever was going into the oven and tossing fresh vegetables in olive oil.

Whatever it was smelled wonderful and made my mouth water—but I was also starving.

I wasn't much of a cook so I couldn't even guess what he was making. For the whole year living with Harry, I'd mostly made pasta and instant noodles for us. After he'd locked me in after having Roscoe three months ago, food had been reduced to canned goods only.

My stomach rumbled as the smell of meat filled the air and somehow, Oscar seemed to hear it, turning to gaze at me.

His hazel eyes met mine and I was stunned by the sureness in them.

“It won't be long,” he promised.

I nodded, embarrassed, and tried to focus on Roscoe instead of my shame. It was impossible to avoid glancing at the man across the room, though. Oscar seemed so confident in his own skin. How did someone become like that? I wondered.

Well, being an alpha surely helped.

If not for the one little fact that I had been able to have my own baby—who was my whole world—I would despise every part of being an omega.

My omega disposition was responsible for nearly every bad memory I had.

Still, I would rather be me, then be someone like Harry who felt entitled to have and take anything or anyone that he wanted.

I must have zoned out thinking about it, because by the time I looked up again, Oscar was setting plates and food on a small dining table.

“Ready for food?” he asked when he noticed me watching.

I got to my feet, hesitating to leave Roscoe alone on the couch.

He could barely lift his head on his own, so I didn't need to worry about him rolling yet, and the couch was comfortable and clean, a safe spot in eye view from the table.

So, I stepped away from him for the first time today and walked to the table before taking the seat across from Oscar.

Oscar didn't say much as he served us our food. I was surprised to see that it was some sort of buddha bowl, with rice, grilled chicken and a delicious looking salad. It looked as good as it smelled.

“Here, have as much of the sauce as you want,” he said, offering it after applying a generous portion on top of his own food.

I put a small bit on the side to taste it, but I shouldn't have been shy. Maybe it was because I was hungry enough that anything would’ve tasted good, but I was quite sure that it was the best thing I'd ever eaten.

I didn't realize how fast I was shoveling it in until I was near the bottom of the bowl and Oscar started scooping more rice and salad into it.

Swallowing a mouthful, I reached for the water and had to gulp some down before I could speak.

“I'm okay,” I managed.

“Don't be silly,” he said nonchalantly, “there's plenty here.”

He added more chicken and handed me the sauce. I didn't bother arguing this time, adding plenty of it on top, and laying into the second serving with gusto.

When I was finally felt satiated enough to notice anything else around me but the bowl in my grasp, I glanced up and found that Oscar had his elbows on the table, hands clasped, and chin resting on them while he watched me with interest.

He smiled when our gazes met, not at all embarrassed to be caught staring. I was a little mortified. I’d been stuffing my face with abandon.

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to eat slower.

“Do you like it?” he asked, clearly knowing the answer from the small smile on his face.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Anytime,” he murmured.

We lapsed into silence for a moment, but I couldn't help breaking it.

“So, is this your thing?” I asked. “Taking in street people and feeding and housing them on cold days?”

He lifted a surprised brow and then laughed.

“Actually, no, not at all,” he admitted. “But you have Roscoe with you and when I saw you two out there... don't take this the wrong way, but you don't really look street-hardened, just down on your luck. I take it this is new for you?”

I glanced down at the last few bites of food on my plate, unsure what to say.

“I ran away today,” I finally admitted.

“From Roscoe's alpha parent?” he guessed.

“Yes,” I said, and left it at that, fearful I’d already said too much.

I expected him to push, to ask what I'd done, or maybe to suggest I go back rather than risk being homeless. Any sane person would ask me if I really knew what I was doing. Truthfully, I didn't, but I was willing to risk hardships in order to never go back there ever again.

“Do you want some more?”

Surprised by the question—or the lack of the expected ones—I glanced up, noticing he had the bowl of rice ready to go.

I shook my head. “No, I'm full, thank you.”

He nodded and rose, collecting dishes to take to the sink.

As far as I was concerned, an alpha doing his own dishes was a sight to behold. This time it was my turn to blatantly stare. Who was this guy?!

I stood up to help, but made a detour when Roscoe let out a fuss. I didn't blame him after checking. His diaper was full again.

“You said I could have the bedroom, right?” I asked.

“Yes, I did,” Oscar agreed, immediately stopping what he was doing to dry his hands with a dish towel. “Follow me.”

He led me out of the main living space, paused to show me the washroom and closet doors, and then opened the door to the bedroom for me to enter.

I slipped in with Roscoe in my arms and looked around, registering the fact that this was really his bedroom.

The book he was in the middle of was left open on the bedside table.

There was a pile of what was probably yesterday's clothes on the floor next to the dresser, a glass of half-finished water.

I immediately felt out of place. Was it really right to take this stranger's space away from him?

His comforting scent was nearly overwhelming, and I could already feel my shoulders unknotting.

Still, I should be the one sleeping on the couch.

I turned around to say just that—and froze.

Oscar was just standing there, doing nothing intimidating, but he was blocking the doorway with his large frame.

Every hackle on my body went up at once and without even thinking, my lips curled, ready to fight my way out.

I knew it was a bad idea to challenge an alpha, but I couldn't help it.

I didn't know him.

I couldn't trust him.

I wouldn’t be locked away again.

Somehow, he didn't react to my challenge.

“Let me know if you need anything. I'll be on the couch.”

He shut the door tightly behind him and I stood there shaken for so long that Roscoe started to cry.

“Shit,” I muttered. “Right. Sorry, Ros.”

I laid him on the bed and quickly changed him, then spent a few minutes to make the bed safe by removing the pillows and blanket on his side. Once done, I wrapped him in a swaddle which instantly soothed him.

Fatigue hit again, but then I’d spent months sleeping whenever Roscoe did. I was exhausted and couldn't quite wrap my head around what had happened, but I kept glancing toward the door, unable to accept that he’d really just left us be, just like that.

Oscar hadn't lied, there really was a lock on the door.

It was a flimsy one, but at least it would give me warning if he tried to break through it.

I locked it securely and then shut off the light before climbing into bed next to Roscoe, pulling my shirt up so that he could feed before we fell asleep.

He fell into a deep slumber while still suckling and when he released me, I pulled back, keeping a safe distance between us. Yet I couldn't sleep. Despite how comfortable Oscar's bed was and how warm and soft all the sheets, my eyes were wide open.

For a while, my mind was blank. I simply listened to the sounds from the living room.

The TV played what sounded like a game show.

Oscar cleared his throat and then eventually, moved around the apartment shutting off lights from the sounds of it.

When I heard the telltale creaks of him easing onto the couch, I finally felt like I could relax a little bit.

I couldn't believe any part of today.

I’d finally escaped. I was free. Somehow, I was already in a new alpha's apartment, head resting on his pillow, breathing in the surprisingly comforting scent of his pheromones.

His musk was like a deep maple and leather, warm, sweet, and strong.

Despite myself, I turned my face into it and breathed deeply and it was like a cord snapped, releasing all my muscles.

I nearly groaned in appreciation.

At the end of the day, I supposed I was only an omega.

An alpha’s scent was meant to comfort, and Oscar's did.

No other alphas had given him that before, though.

In fact, it released so much inside me that tears sprung to my eyes and for a long time, I couldn't hold back the waterworks as they poured from my eyes.

I didn't stop until exhaustion finally claimed me and I fell into a blissfully deep sleep.