Page 27 of Claiming the Pack’s Omega (Riverwell Omegaverse #2)

My parents have always been wealthy. Not ridiculously rich, but I never grew up without the material things I wanted. I’ve had the best computers and the best technology money could buy ever since I was able to articulate my interest in them.

The way Reyna so casually mentions she slept in a closet before moving down to a garage, presumably to give her three younger siblings more space, makes my chest tight.

“Holy shit, this bathroom is fancy as hell!” She says, after dropping her duffel bag at the foot of the bed.

It’s just a bathroom, but it makes her so excited.

“Do you—do you want to see the rest of the house?” I ask her, staying close to the bedroom door so she doesn’t feel like I’m invading her space.

She spins around, her hair swirling around her shoulders as she eyes me up and down, her hands on her hips.

“Tell me, Milo, what’s your deal.”

“My—my deal?”

“I mean, none of you guys really act like any alphas I’ve ever met. But you’re seriously different. So, what’s your deal?”

Dread instantly pools in my gut and I stare down at the floor in front of me.

I’ve always been told I’m different. It goes past just what my body looks like, I’ve never had the dominant kind of personality alphas have either. Every day I live in this packhouse with three of the most confident guys I’ve ever met serves as a reminder of just how different I am.

Stone? He has a reputation in the police force for being the go-to guy if you want to get something done.

Theo? He routinely kills it in the courtroom, and his win streak is getting ridiculous at this point.

Killian? Even though he’s the youngest and technically the least experienced council member, he still commands both the respect and fear of those he works with.

Me? I’m pathetic in comparison.

I spend all day in my bedroom, typing away at a computer, afraid of the outside world.

“Hey.” Reyna’s voice snaps me out of my spiral and I jerk my gaze up to meet hers.

She’s standing in front of me now, so close I swear I can feel the warmth of her. Or maybe it’s just my imagination.

She’s like a lightning bolt. A jolt of power and brightness.

I should take a step back from her. I don’t deserve to be this close to her. What if I fuck up? The pack would kill me for ruining something with her, I know how much they all like her already.

But I don’t.

Because I’m selfish and stupid and greedy.

“Where’d you go?” She whispers, her brows drawn down in concern.

“Wh—what?” I ask.

“You get a look in your eye," she says, nodding up at my face. “It’s like you’re not here with me.”

“I—I—” I swallow hard, trying to get rid of the bowling ball that’s made its home in my throat. “S—sorry.”

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize to me, I get it," she says. “Well, I don’t get it, not exactly what’s going through your head, but trust me, you’re not alone when it comes to running away to a place in your head.”

“Really?” My hands tremble slightly as I fight the urge to reach out and touch her.

I just want to hold her hand.

Can I?

Would she hate it? Would that fuck everything up?

My right hand flexes slightly and her gaze darts down to it.

She flashes me a reassuring smile as she reaches for it, lacing our fingers together.

Oh my god.

We’re holding hands.

She’s holding my hand.

“I mean, yeah," she says, shrugging casually as if she’s not making the fabric of my universe fall apart with a single touch, a single point of contact. “I dissociate all the time. Sometimes that’s the only thing you can do.”

Her hands are so soft. Her fingers are so delicate.

I’ve been so careful to not touch any woman since everything that happened, but here Reyna is, so casually touching me.

“Why do you dissociate?” She asks softly, her storm gray eyes intent and focused.

The question scares the shit out of me, but I think I’d answer anything she asks, if it means she’ll continue to look up at me like that.

Fuck, I’d do anything for her to keep her eyes on me.

“I mean, it always seems to be with me," she continues. “And the last thing I want to do is unintentionally freak you the fuck out.”

I swallow hard, running my tongue along the inside of my cheek nervously.

“I—I just don’t want to do something you don’t want,” I say.

“Why?” She tilts her head. “I’m pretty vocal about what I want and don’t want. I mean, you heard me yelling in that hospital room.”

I did. It was honestly impressive. I can count the number of people who I’ve seen stand up to Killian on one hand. And technically, the only people who I’ve seen stand up to Killian and not buckle underneath the stress are Theo and Stone.

“I—I want to tell you,” I say slowly.

I mean it, too. I’ve never wanted to tell anyone this stuff. I don’t know why she’s different. An omega, especially one as smart, outspoken, and stunning as her should be the last person I should want to tell.

“But…” She prompts. “There’s a but there, considering you’re not telling me why you don’t want to tell me.”

“But I don’t want you to hate me,” I whisper.

Her brows draw down in confusion.

“Hate you?”

I nod.

She purses her lips and there’s a crease between her brows as if she’s thinking hard.

“I’m not sure how to reassure you because I don’t want to lie to you. I’m going to be completely honest, and if it is something terrible, I’m not just going to be quiet about it," she says.

My gaze falls to the floor. I swallow hard and start to pull my hand away from hers.

Or at least I try to.

“Hey, I didn’t finish,” she says, lacing our fingers back together again. “I seriously doubt you, out of all alphas, have done something bad enough for me to hate you.”

“Because—because of how I look?”

“Because you seem like a good guy, Milo," she says.

She lets out a huff of laughter under her breath as if she thinks my unusual body type for an alpha has nothing to do with things.

“Trust me, I’ve met a lot of bad guys. I’ve also met a lot of bad guys who pretend they’re good guys.

You’re not one of them. Now, are you going to tell me what’s eating you up inside so I can figure out what I’m doing that’s freaking you out all the time or not?

We can drop it, if you want. I know I’m being intense. ”

My fingers finally close around her hand as I hold her hand back.

“I—I was accused of touching a girl, Angie Winters, inappropriately in middle school,” I whisper. It takes all the courage I possess, but I stare down into her eyes as I speak. I need to see her reaction to what I have to say. “Everyone—everyone believed her, and I was bullied pretty badly.”

Her expression remains open, maybe a little curious. It’s far from the immediate disgust and hatred I’m used to seeing from everyone before.

“What did she accuse you of?”

“Of—of pinning her down in the library and trying to reach up her skirt,” I mumble.

“And did you do that?”

“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “We—we only kissed, one time. And she was the one who kissed me.”

“And then she went and lied to the whole fucking school? What a bitch," she scoffs.

My mouth goes dry.

She believes me.

She believes me.

She believes me.

“You believe me?” My voice is barely above a whisper.

“Of course I do, you haven’t given me a reason to think you’re lying," she shrugs. “How bad was the bullying after all that?”

My tongue runs along the inside of my mouth again. I can feel a buzzing sort of anxiety travelling down my arms and into my fingertips, remembering those few years of hell.

“Bad,” I whisper. “There was a group of boys, they were popular, they’d do things like—like stuffing me in a locker and locking it behind them.”

“Seriously?” She says, her head jerking back in surprise. “That’s like, movie level shit. How long were you stuck there?”

“The longest was six hours,” I whisper, darting my gaze away from her as a wave of shame from the memory hits me like a truck.

I missed all my classes that day. They didn’t let me out until after whatever sports practice they had was finished. By then I’d already soiled myself.

“You’re fucking kidding me," she hisses. “You were what, twelve when that bullshit started?”

I blink in surprise. Her anger is… unexpected. It’s not anger towards me, it’s anger for me.

What in the world have I done to earn the privilege of standing in front of her?

“Y—yeah,” I answer, fighting the shock of her reaction.

“Fuck," she says, pursing her lips together. “I bet you’re not even telling me the whole story too. It was probably worse than what you’re saying. God, that’s so fucked—” Her voice cracks and she shakes her head.

“I—I didn’t mean to upset you,” I whisper.

“You’re not upsetting me. This fucked up situation is upsetting me. My little brother is twelve, if someone did that shit to him, I’d kill them, I swear.”

She reaches out and holds my other hand.

“Why would they do that to you? If you’re half as sweet as you are now, you must’ve been a good kid.”

“I think—I think it became less about the accusations and defending a girl and more about the cruelty of it,” I say softly. “At least for the main group of guys who would torment me.”

“Did it stop, at least? Eventually?”

“It stopped in high school after my family adopted Theo. He—he put one of the ring leaders in the hospital and they stopped.”

She nods firmly.

“Good. I’m—I’m sorry it took so long for that shit to end though.”

She blinks up at me again, her gaze darting between my eyes, before she lets go of my hands to wrap her arms around my neck in a hug.

Her soft curves press against me and I swear to god, I lose all higher cognitive function.

“You can hug me back, you know," she whispers, nuzzling her face into my neck.

Holy shit, she’s scent marking me.

After the initial wave of shock hits me, I bring my arms up and wrap them around her.

“Th—thank you.”

“Of course.”

She pulls away and the smile on her face is blinding.

“Angie Winters, right?”

I nod, my brows drawing down in confusion.

“Cool, if I ever run into her and she’s still a bitch, I’ll take care of her.”

The thought of Reyna fighting another omega for me, for whatever reason, makes a huge grin break out on my face.

“Really?” I ask.

“For that smile?” She breathes out. “One hundred percent.”