Page 40 of Claiming the Pack’s Omega (Riverwell Omegaverse #2)

Killian

I stare down at my phone screen, my jaw clenching at the name popping up there.

Mother .

It’s such a bizarre thing, how something so simple can leave me reeling.

Seeing her name pop up on my screen tends to leave me feeling like a little kid, desperate for some sort of acknowledgement I never received.

Hell, I gave up on love and affection really early on.

I truly wasn’t asking very much of her or my father.

“I’ve got to take this,” I say, lifting my phone as I nod to the nurse typing away at the reception desk. “If Reyna comes out, please tell her I’m just outside in the car.”

I take a deep breath as I answer her call.

“Good afternoon, Mother,” I say, bracing myself.

“Took you long enough to answer my calls," she sniffs. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?”

“I’ve been incredibly busy, Mother. You know that.”

“You shouldn’t be busy, I know it’s your lunch break, according to that schedule you still send us every week. Don’t forget that I know exactly how many times you let the phone ring before picking up.”

“I had to get somewhere private,” I say, wrenching the driver’s side door to my SUV harder than necessary before sliding in. “You know I skip my lunch break to work, most days, anyway.”

“You skip your calls with your Mother too, how ungrateful.”

I feel a headache starting to build, running behind my eyes from temple to temple like there’s a vice that’s being screwed shut tighter and tighter.

I pinch the bridge of my nose to try and relieve some of the tension. It only works because she’s stopped talking, waiting for me to respond.

Probably with profuse apologies, like I would when I was younger.

I don’t do those anymore. Apologies only seemed to cement my guilt in whatever perceived crime I’d committed, and the rest of my family was swift in enacting their version of punishment. Even if their punishments were nowhere near proportional to the crime.

“Why are you calling, Mother?” I sigh, exhausted from this conversation already.

“I want to see you. You’ve been avoiding the house.”

My jaw clenches so hard I can hear it creaking.

“You know why I don’t come home often,” I say slowly, my voice so low it’s just a hint above a growl.

It’s so hard to maintain my control and composure with my family. They seem to know just what to say and how to say it to mess with my head.

“You need to get over the issues you have with your brother,” Mother chastises. I can practically hear the eyeroll in her voice.

“Yeah, bro! Everything’s in the past! I got over it, so should you.”

Fucking hell. Speak of the devil.

Of course, my mother wouldn’t just call me, even if she did actually want me back home.

She doesn’t really care that much about me. There are three things she cares about: my father, her appearance, and most of all? My older brother Maximus.

There’s no room in that family for me.

“Forgive me for not getting over you terrorizing my childhood,” I grit out. Now that I know my brother is on the other line too, it’s like my body has gone into defense mode.

I counted down the days until I moved away to college. That day was the start of my freedom, of my life. I moved in all by myself because my parents didn’t care enough, not when Maximus was moving into his senior year.

“There will be plenty more years for us to help you move in, Killian, don’t be selfish.”

My mother’s words that day still ring in my ears as I think back to that time.

They never helped me move in.

Maximus still lives with them. They expanded the pool house so he’d have his own place, but that good-for-nothing, piece of shit, bum still mooches off them, even though he’s well into his mid-thirties by now.

He’s the golden child of the family. Always has been, always will be.

I’m pretty sure if I didn’t work a job and had nowhere to stay, they’d kick me to the curb after I couldn’t pay whatever arbitrary amount they wanted for “rent,” or whatever. Lord knows they don’t need the money.

“ Killian ,” my mother snaps, her tone as sharp as a whip. “Do not speak to your brother that way.”

I flinch involuntarily. It’s been fifteen years since I’ve lived under her roof, but I guess that’s not long enough to get rid of the eighteen I spent there in the first place. My brain is wired to fear their negative reactions: their disappointment, their disgust, their anger.

I guess in the same way it’s programmed to loathe my brother.

It’s only natural, considering he’s gotten everything I’ve ever wanted when he’s barely lifted a finger.

I’ve clawed my way up to a position on Riverwell’s council, the youngest person to ever do so, and all I got from my mother was an uninterested hum.

The car door opens slowly, and I see a wide-eyed Reyna looking at me.

I close my eyes, slamming my head back against the headrest behind me.

I was too distracted with my shitshow of a family to realize she’d come out of the office. How much has she heard? Certainly my mother’s last comment, if her wide-eyed expression is anything to go by.

I take a deep breath, giving her a small nod and a wave for her to come into the car. I’m not going to have her wait outside while I finish up this conversation. She’ll be able to hear everything anyway, with my phone connected to the car’s Bluetooth.

“Did you hear me?” My mother’s shrill voice says over the line. “Apologize to him right now.”

My jaw clenches and I grip the steering wheel so hard the leather cracks under my grip.

“Answer our mom, asshat. Or what, cats got your tongue? You don’t want to offer your big bro an apology?”

I almost start laughing when my mom doesn’t comment on Maximus’s insult. Fuck him. Fuck her. Fuck them all.

I see how wide Reyna’s eyes are in the corner of my eye. Her jaw is slack as her gaze darts between me and the touchscreen display on the center console, showcasing the name of the contact I’m calling.

Mother.

Yeah right, when has she ever acted like my mom? The only motherly thing she did was birth me, and even then, she always complained how much more difficult my birth was compared to Maximus’s.

Normally, I’d just apologize and get it over with so we could move on. But even with the shame and embarrassment that seems to be wrapping itself around my throat, there’s the added flush of… anger?

Sure, I’ve been angry about things for so long, but I’ve been resigned to them staying the way they’ve always been for longer. Expecting more from my family always seems to leave me reeling, wondering what the hell I was doing wrong for them to treat me like shit.

Maybe there’s something about the fire I’ve seen in Reyna, despite the things life has put her through that inspires me to fan the flames of my own anger too.

“I didn’t know speaking about the reality of our childhood was something I had to apologize for,” I grit out slowly.

There’s a shocked silence at the end of the line.

Blissful silence.

It’s quickly shattered, nothing more than a fleeting illusion of peace. No way one single comment would change their need to dominate the conversation.

“Killian! You know how hard your brother has tried to move on from his past," she snaps. “How dare you not be supportive of his journey!”

“Yeah,” Maximus adds, the smugness in his tone so obvious it’s practically dripping from my surround sound speakers. “How dare you, bro, not cool.”

My nostrils flare as Reyna’s petrichor scent quickly grows thick in the enclosed space of the car. It’s electric. Like lightning just struck the air around us.

But not the spark that comes with when she’s turned on.

No, this is because she’s angry.

Fucking pissed.

It lights a fire in my own veins. My fingertips buzz like I was just electrified. My racing heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.

Reyna is angry for me.

Reyna is angry for me .

This heady sort of power pulses through my veins.

“Why did you call me again, Mother?” I ask, my tone sharper than I’ve ever let it be with them because of decades of conditioning.

She sputters on the other end of the line, the sound bringing a grin to Reyna’s face that has me staring at her in awe.

Reyna sees me looking at her and her grin turns a little more self-conscious, but she gives me a silent nod before hesitantly reaching over the center console and giving my shoulder a squeeze.

“I—I was calling because even if you’re off playing politics, we still expect you to show up at home, do you understand?

What work could possibly be important enough for you to abandon your family?

” My mother says, her voice wobbling with what I know to be fake emotion.

Or at the very least, manipulative emotion.

Of course, when this call ends, Maximus will be right there to console our mother, reassuring her that she’s perfect and that I’m the one who’s fucked up.

“What, do you have some omega bitch?” My brother snorts. “Of course that’d take up all your time, chasing after omegas is hard work when you’re, well, you .”

“Shut the fuck up,” I snarl.

“Language! Killian, I raised you better than this!" my mother snaps, all hints of any tears immediately disappearing.

“Woahhh, looks like someone’s a little sensitive they can’t get any omega pussy,” Maximus snickers.

Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him.

He can say whatever the hell he wants about me, but like hell will I let them say shit that could blow back on Reyna.

She lets out a soft scoff and rolls her eyes before reaching over the center console again and resting a hand on my thigh. It’s like the omega in her is calling to my reeling alpha, grounding him.

It helps, because without that, I probably would’ve done something stupid and irreversible.

“Okay, that’s enough," my mother sighs.

Of course she only steps in after Maximus has thrown exponentially more than his fair share of insults.

“He’s avoiding the question, Mom,” Maximus pushes. “It’s a perfectly acceptable question.”

“Not when you call my omega some omega bitch,” I snap back.

There’s silence at the end of the line.