Page 3

THREE

Playing: doomsday by Lizzy McAlpine

“I still don’t understand why you couldn’t shower after the game like the rest of the team,” Rory snaps as we walk into our house, her eyes narrowing at Derek.

He ignores her, which sends her temper up another notch.

“This is bullshit. Stacia, I know you feel the same way as I do. Our shower is a no-alpha zone.”

Our house is what people would call quaint, but there’s enough room for two unbonded omegas to live comfortably. We have one half-bath for guests, but the full bathroom is just for us and we’re very territorial of it.

We’re used to each other’s scents from years of being friends, but anyone else using it—much less a smelly alpha—makes both of us uncomfortable.

I look between both of them, not sure what to do. When she realizes I’m tongue-tied, she huffs out an angry sound before turning towards her room and slamming the door behind her. I wince at the sound.

“Please make it a quick shower, Derek,” I whisper as we turn towards my side of the house.

“Of course, princess.” He gives me a smile before he disappears into the bathroom. I can already feel the omega inside my chest stir with anxiety as the door shuts behind him.

I know Rory’s upset with me for not fighting him on it, but I’d feel like a dick if I didn’t let him shower.

Not letting him because our biology makes us territorial doesn’t seem like a good enough reason.

Plus, it’s not like he’s ever done this before.

I’ll just have to explain why Rory was so upset and ask him not to shower here again.

Maybe he didn’t fully understand what I meant when I said our second bathroom was only for us to share.

I’m on my bed looking through my Instagram feed when Derek comes through the door an hour later. I’m still dressed from earlier just in case he wants to go out and celebrate their win. With that in mind, I smile.

“Is the team celebrating tonight? We could go out if you want,” I suggest.

Derek is facing away from me, typing away on his phone. A few minutes goes by before he clicks it shut and turns my way.

“Nah, everyone’s beat. I don’t think there was anything planned.”

I furrow my brows, taking that in. I guess that’s possible, but college guys normally use any excuse to party. I shrug it off, making room for him on the bed.

“Do you want to smoke with me?” I give him a shy smile before reaching into my end table to pull out my stash. I like smoking because it feels nice in my body. A nice sativa always makes me feel more grounded at the end of a long day.

I open my grinder to check what’s in it when Derek inhales obnoxiously and goes to cover his nose.

“Please don’t tell me you do that stuff,” he says, staring at me with this grimace that I don’t really appreciate. It’s hurtful, and I’m not sure how to respond.

Derek and I haven’t been together long. We met a few weeks after returning from summer break and instantly hit it off. After that, we would randomly run into each other on campus. I quite enjoyed how he liked to walk me to class and carry my stuff for me.

I thought we had spoken about my appreciation for weed before, but it must have slipped my mind. That happens sometimes.

“I do. I enjoy it.” I try to be confident, but it comes out flat.

“I don’t think you should do it anymore,” he says bluntly.

“Why not?”

“I mean, babe, come on,” he starts, like it’s obvious. “You’re already airheaded enough, don’t you think?”

I rear back like I’ve been slapped.

“What—” I start before he interrupts.

“Don’t act so surprised. You can be a little scatter-brained. That’s not a bad thing, but weed will make it worse.”

I stare at him blankly, not knowing what to say or even what I’m feeling. My body feels like it’s building a barrier to hide behind.

“Let’s just… put this away,” he says, taking my grinder and stash. But instead of putting them on my other end table, he dumps them in the trash can beside my bed.

I stare blankly at the action, all of my feelings swirling inside of me. My body hasn’t decided which one will take control. It’s like I’m watching the situation from outside my body, and my utter disbelief at the situation is unable to escape its confinement within my chest.

I phase in and out, realizing that he has moved on and is now talking about the game and their win. I only hear every couple of words though, my mind checked out and ready to go to bed.

Then he’s picking up my book, the one I was reading earlier today. I watch him lift it in slow motion before turning to the bookmarked page and reading its contents.

When he’s finished, he looks over at me with a silent fury on his face. I can’t muster up the energy to even feel panic at his expression.

“Is this one of those slutty romances you like to read?” he asks rhetorically. I just stare at him, wondering when tonight turned into such a shit show; wondering when our relationship had turned into this.

“It’s a historical romance,” I try to defend, ignoring his judgement.

“It’s cheating, is what it is,” he says, and my brows shoot upwards. I told him of my passion for romance books. He was honest about not understanding the hype, but he was accepting. Wasn’t he?

“It’s fictional,” is all I say.

He points at the page. “There’s at least three men in this scene.”

“It’s not abnormal for people to be in packs,” I state. It’s common sense. I’m getting really confused now.

“And that’s what you want, a pack?” he questions, closing my book and throwing it across the room.

“Hey!” I yell at him, finally feeling some energy muster from deep inside me. I get up from my spot on the bed to retrieve my discarded book from the floor, but he grabs my wrist before I can and pulls me back down.

“ Answer me ,” he barks. I’ve never had an alpha bark used on me. I’ve read about it erotically in books, but this is not sexy.

“Yes, I do,” I say, complying to his demand. “I ultimately want a pack. I’ve told you this before… I thought you knew.”

I try to break his hold on my wrist but his grip tightens. A whimper climbs up my throat but I push it down. “Derek. You’re hurting me.”

He ignores me and continues to hold me hostage. “I thought you’d grow out of that thought. Not all omegas need packs,” he snarls. “So, I’m not enough for you? Do you need more than one alpha to satisfy you?”

I continue to pull, trying to break free from his hold. It’s like he doesn’t even notice I’m struggling.

“People don’t talk about it enough, but only certain omegas have packs, Stacia. Those omegas are spoiled, self-centered brats. Are you spoiled and self-centered?”

“No,” I say, tears threatening to spill over.

“I didn’t think so. How do you think that makes me feel? Knowing that I’ll never be enough for you?”

I start to push at him, becoming vocal in my discomfort.

“Let go of me!” I scream, kicking at his leg.

“No, you need to know how this makes me feel,” he thunders back at me. “Don’t you care? Who is this omega that I’ve fallen in love with? Have you been this damaged the whole time, and I didn’t see it?”

I start sobbing uncontrollably, piercing the air with my wails.

Words I wish I never had to remember come roaring back.

I won’t have a damaged daughter.

Don’t be that kind of omega.

Cover up, you’re a disgrace.

That’s all omegas are good for.

Stop being so airheaded, Stacia, for Christ’s sake.

You never think of anyone but yourself.

“Get off of me! Get off! Get off! We’re over! Fuck you!” I’m pulling with all my might now, scratching and punching his arms. He hisses but only lets me go when my bedroom door flies open.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Rory rushes in, a baseball bat secure in her hands. She marches forward and swings for the bed.

I back up away from the bed, trying to catch my breath. I hear them arguing through a fog. I think she threatens to kill him, and he tells her to mind her own business. She threatens to call the cops, which leaves him angry but finally compliant as he turns toward me one last time.

“We’ll talk later.”

My bedroom door shuts and I lose my battle with my concealed emotions, finally letting it all out. I wrap my arms around myself and sink to the floor.

The next thing I know, Rory is there and holding me tightly. One of her hands cradles my head while the other is wrapped around me, soothing me as I cry in the crook of her neck.

“He’s gone, I promise. Never again. You’re safe now.”

After a while, I feel my body start to relax, and my energy ebbs out of me in waves.

All that’s left is apathy and confusion.

Rory helps me get back in bed, and she curls up into me before turning off the lamp.

I hear her whisper to get some rest. And when I close my eyes, I decide that’s what I’d like to do for the rest of my life.