Page 81 of Claiming the Pack's Omega

No, that’s not right… I’m touching a woman.

I may be wholly and wildly inexperienced with the opposite sex, but there’s no definition of the word woman that wouldn’t apply to Reyna, over the definitions of the word girl.

She’s stunning.

And mature.

And strong.

And stunning, did I mention stunning?

I feel like a bumbling idiot even breathing the same air as her. Her petrichor scent, which is carrying this intense undertone like a thunderstorm is approaching, is so different than the scent of any other omegas I’ve been around.

Not that I’ve been around very many, considering I barely leave the house, but there were a few in college that I’d be able to scent as they walked past me in the hallways.

Their scents were always sickly sweet.

Not Reyna’s.

I love rain. I’ve always loved it. I got in trouble once, when I fell asleep with the window open when it was thunderingoutside. I got the carpets in my bedroom wet, but I swear, it was some of the best sleep I’ve ever had.

I want to bury my face in her neck and breath her in until I’ve memorized every single note of her scent.

But that’s silly.

And stupid.

Because an omega like her would never be interested in a guy like me.

If things between her and the pack work out—and I hope they do, because I know how much Stone and Theo already like her, and Killian’s already halfway there and he’s only known her for a day—then I assume things will be as they always have been.

I’ll hang around, floating in their orbit, like I normally do, except this time around, the three of them will be revolving around Reyna.

I’ve always been an outsider. Best case scenario I was picked last. Worst case scenario I was picked on.

Or worse.

My parents called it “schoolyard bullying” and didn’t understand why I was never able to just get over it.

And I never dared tell them the reason why it was happening, because if I told them and they agreed?

I would’ve killed myself, probably.

I thought I was going to die a lot during middle school. Getting waterboarded in the school bathroom while they flushed the toilet over and over while holding my head in the bowl will do that to a kid.

It all started when I was a new sixth grader and Angie Winters, the popular girl from the grade above me, needed help on her math homework.

We worked together every Tuesday and Thursday for a month before she kissed me.

Then she went around the whole school telling people that I tried to touch her inappropriately.

That’s when the bullying started. Everyone called me a disgusting pervert. I don’t know how our parents weren’t called in or involved in the situation, but they never were.

In some ways, it helped because I didn’t have to face my family’s judgment. It hurt in other ways, though, because a lot of the kids at school took it upon themselves to administer their own vigilante punishments.

The bullying continued all through middle school, until my family adopted Theo, and we started going to the same school. Which means that sort of relentless bullying was going on until I was fourteen.

But the damage was done.