Page 52 of Coco and the Misfits (The Candyverse #4)

COCO

H e leaves, and I can’t stop sobbing. Sinking down on my window seat, I cry my eyes out.

Once you enter the downward spiral, it’s hard to pull yourself back out. I cry because this is it. The ending I’d always expected and feared, and it happened.

Didn’t it?

Or am I crying because I spoke out what I truly fear at last and although the disappointment is crushing, it’s also a weight off my chest?

His words still ring in my ears, echoing what my friends have told me over the years.

“Decide what you want to be, girl. Only you can decide. Nobody else can do it for you.”

He wasn’t angry, I realize. He was barely shocked at the news of my official designation and the news that I had unwittingly lied about it to all three of them.

Not telling the truth is still a lie, right?

I wanted them to grovel and apologize, and they did, and now I feel I’m the one who should be doing the groveling.

After a while, the tears dry up and I lie there, curled up, trying to regain my breath.

Enough of this self-pity, I tell myself. Get up.

Meanwhile, my phone has been blowing up with calls and messages from my friends.

June, too.

‘Girlfriend,’ she writes. ‘Forgive me? I didn’t mean to push you away and I’m really worried, you know. Please, let me come over?’

I scroll through the rest of the messages asking similar questions and sigh. I’ve acted like a brat and I’ve worried my friends.

And I still don’t feel ready to face them, because that would mean admitting to them exactly what I admitted to Ryder.

That I’m giving up on my hopes and dreams.

That I admit I was wrong.

That I’ve misled everyone.

Even though I’ve always felt, in my heart of hearts, that I’m an omega, ever since I can remember myself as a little girl, it looks like I was mistaken.

You don’t always get what you want , I tell myself. You don’t always become what you dream of. And those three alphas, flawed but kind, deserve better.

Let them go.

* * *

I move through the next day in a dark haze. Ryder hasn’t called or texted me after our encounter, and neither have Zach and Atticus. As I cross the street, I glance around instinctively for them but I can’t see them anywhere.

I thought they’d still guard me. Did they change their minds about that?

They have to have changed their minds about me, at least. Ryder must have told them. Right?

What if he hasn’t? Do I have to call and tell each one individually?

I wince and stop, my breath catching. It would be hard but I’ll probably have to do it. Confess to the deception. Crash and burn, and then hide and lick my wounds.

It’s not a deception, my mind rages. It was never a lie.

That’s how I feel. That’s how I’ve always felt. I’m an omega in a beta’s body. Maybe my blood markers say I’m a beta, but my mind knows I’m an omega.

“You don’t have to be anyone’s cup of tea. Be gasoline. Set the world on fire.”

I dash fresh tears from my eyes.

I’m gasoline.

I’ll tell them the truth, but I won’t apologize for what I am. Ryder is right.

Yet the doubts return as I finish work and walk slowly back home. I’ve had minimal interaction with other humans today and I’m trying to keep it that way. I’m not good company as I wallow in my misery, drinking instant hot chocolate and leaving crumbs of cookies everywhere.

I’m already missing them. The thought of not having the three alphas in my life is a heavy blow. A near mortal blow. I’m only starting to feel its edge now, the extent of the pain it will cause me.

I’ve gone and fallen for the three of them, and now what the hell will I do? Like an idiot, I opened my heart and now it’s hooked on them. Leaving them will tear it apart.

I’m gasping by the time I make it home, and then I close my door and throw myself onto my sofa.

What am I gonna do?

I should talk to them. What Ryder said… Wait.

I sit up, scrubbing at my wet cheeks. He didn’t say he’d leave me.

What did he say? He said all those positive, nice things.

My mind twisted them instantly into pacifying lies so he could backtrack without feeling guilt, but that wasn’t what he said, was it?

After chewing on my cuticles for a couple of hours, I take the plunge and text him.

‘Ryder.’ I stare down at his name on my phone screen. ‘Did you mean it?’

His reply comes instantly, as if he were waiting for me to write. ‘I meant every word, Candy girl. Which part are you asking about?’

‘That you are still here. For me.’

No reply comes back and the despair returns.

See? I was right. He didn’t mean those things. He’s kind and only wanted to make me feel better. He’ll forgive me, I bet. They all will. Forgive and forget. Move on.

Falling back on the sofa, I grab my favorite cushion and press it to my chest. It’s probably time for me to get that cat or dog and abandon the world for a while. Wallow in my misery. Start to smoke herbs and see visions. Join an exotic monastery and do yoga every morning.

Only if it’s not too early, though.

And after that?—

My doorbell rings, startling me. I sit up, my heart hammering. Who could that be? I check my phone again but the only new messages that have appeared are from Sawyer, asking if I’m okay.

Damn.

Is that him? Could Sawyer have come with his pack to check on me as they had done in the past? Am I ready to face them, no matter how wonderful they are?

I want my mates. My alphas. Nobody else.

Padding quietly to the door, I rise on tiptoe and peer through the peephole, biting my already tortured lower lip…

And find all three of them standing outside my door.

My three alphas.

Not Sawyer. Not his pack.

My alphas.

My chest too tight, I step back. What are they doing here? I’m not… not ready, not sane, not…

I throw the door wide open. “You!” I whisper.

My hair is a nest, my clothes rumpled, my cheeks tear-stained, my lip bitten through. I look like a real mess.

And there they are, gorgeous and dressed to the nines, their arms full of flowers.

I burst out laughing and crying, both at the same time. “What are you doing?” I manage between choking breaths. “You shouldn’t be here. What…?” I gesture at all the flowers. “Ryder didn’t tell you, then?”

“Tell us what?” Zach cocks his head to the side. “About you not being officially an omega? Oh yeah, he did.”

“Then?” I gesture again, helplessly. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” It’s Atticus’ turn to speak. His thick brows bunch together. “As if we care whether you’re officially an omega or not. Do you feel like an omega?”

“I… yes?” I splutter. “But…”

“And should we care whether you are an omega or any other designation?”

“Ace—”

“What’s the right answer, Coco?” He pins me with his gaze. His voice is a low rumble. “The right answer for you.”

I blink. “I’m… an omega.”

“Exactly. And why shouldn’t we accept your chosen designation if we love you?”

“If we love you.” Those words snag in my mind and they are all I can think about.

“I… don’t know,” I whisper. “You should.”

“There you go.” He now winks at me, his mouth pulling into a smirk. “So we are here because you are the woman we want, and we figured that you decided to give us a second chance, against all odds. A chance we want to take and prove to you that we do love you.”

“But you need a pack,” Ryder finishes this improbable speech. “Being an omega. And we want to give you one.”

“One… pack?” I’m staring at him at a loss.

“Yeah.”

“Made up… of the three of you?”

“That’s right.” Ryder nods.

I swallow hard, glancing at the others’ faces for confirmation that I haven’t gotten this all wrong. “A pack? You want to form a pack? For me?”

“Yes.”

“Since when have you three been talking about this? You said no more secrets.” Swallowing hard, I turn on Atticus. “Yet you’ve been meeting to… to organize yourselves into a pack?”

“Well, this secret wasn’t mine only to give away,” Atticus replies. “We wanted to be sure first.”

“Sure of what?”

“Of you wanting to be with all three of us. How were we going to offer you a pack if you hated one, or two, or all three of us? We had to make sure we knew the answer.”

“But now you know. You know ,” I repeat when he says nothing, “that I’m not officially an omega.”

His smirk returns. “Apologies, kitten, if I don’t give a single fuck about your official designation. It’s you I want, not a designation category.”

“But… but you’re alphas. You need an omega.”

He cocks his head. “Says who?”

“You were made for omegas,” I say, starting to sound desperate. “Your urges?—”

“My urges worked just fine with you,” Ryder says.

“You can’t have a formally registered pack without an officially identified omega,” I throw my final card on the table. “You deserve a family.”

“A family is what we’ll have with you,” Zach says softly. “Who cares if it’s formally registered as a pack or not?”

“And you are our omega,” Ryder adds. “Fuck what the official papers say. Fuck the system. Fuck what everyone else says.”

“Anarchy, then?”

“No. Not anarchy. But also not accepting the state dictating to us what we are supposed to be. Freedom, while not harming others. Isn’t that what democracy is all about?”

I’m crying again, dammit. I need to stop.

“Woman. Our woman.” Someone’s arms are around me, then all three of them are embracing me, the flowers falling to the floor, their sweet scent mixing with my men’s musk. “Our sweet girl. Our good girl.”

The world is brightening again. And it stays bright.