Loving The Alpha’s Omega

by Emma Knox

  “I’ll repeat. I said, now…or, in the future. Which could be any other day-week-or-month, but not today.”

  I sat my naked-self down on his bed. I could feel Garret’s eyes behind me. The amount of love that he was showing me had been something I only could dream of in the past. And with it here so willingly, it became surreal, the word love entered my head. And the man who was crawling on the bed toward me, nibbling my ear as my toes curled inwards had me at the cliff again ready to jump into his arms way down at the bottom. I hadn’t foreseen any hope going beyond the one-night stand. I honestly pictured nothing…as I valued my self-esteem to be that low.

  “Think less. Speak more.”

  “Garret, please be serious about this. It’s marriage.”

  “I know.” What else could it be? was written on his face.

  “And you’re saying that you want to get married …” I got up from the bed and spun down to his level, looked him in his eyes and repeated that question, “You’re saying that you want to get married …” I added a little more pepper, “to me. You want to get married…to me?”

  “Your name is Ian. And you’re carrying my baby. And I do have a father in there called Aaron who needs to know all these details and more. Oh, and you’re the same Ian who surely does second guess everything I say because he doesn’t put himself at the finishing line with me. Instead, you counter attack me and think I’m playing you for a fool.”

  “Don’t get upset.” I rubbed my stomach. “I’m going to love this little one and you more than you can imagine!”

  “Then stop it! Stop all the doubt and let me put an imaginary ring on your finger.” He reached out and grabbed my pinkie. “This will be good enough.”

  “I want to get married now!”

  Garret pretended to slide a perfect fitting ring on my pinkie.

  I laughed, because he took that too seriously. “Garret, did you hear me. I want to get married now and tell Trevor.”

  Garret wasn’t heeding, so, I made him take notice by stealing back my pinkie. “I want to get married now.”

  “I heard you the last two times. It sounded better with each. But listen, I need us to sort a few things out before we do. Get it all sorted and straightened out in our heads and then we can have that crowning moment. I think I’ll speak with my father about this. I really do regard him as important.”

  “Let’s tell him now then!” My excitement was getting the better of me.

  “No. You should stay put. Let me talk to him first. Hopefully it will work that way.”

  “You’re right. But seeing as you want to keep it private,” I teased, “maybe we should keep it a secret from him?”

  “Ian, my father could write a book on party planning and locations. We need his help on this.”

  Garret got up from the bed and quickly changed into a pair of checked blue-and-white shorts, and a short-sleeved v-neck t-shirt. I had to put on the same attire from our date as I watched him leave the bedroom. My skinny jeans were on, and Garret had already reached the outdoors before I started to tread behind him without being noticed.

  After the incident with Aaron, I wasn’t in the highest of minds with his opinion being in my favor. That’s what instigated my stealth-mode and transformed me into an eavesdropper. Garret had walked around the skimmer, checked the pool for dead flies and insects, there were none, and then carried on until he was inside the manor. He had left the garden door opened, which made it easier for me.

  I checked for Fiona…it was all clear in the kitchen as I tiptoed and saw Garret enter the living room. I walked as far as I could into the foyer, sliding against the wall and trying not to brush against one of the oil painting. I had to stand a little from the wall to avoid that and wait and see what Aaron and Garret had to say. I was anxious served with a pack of fried nerves.

  Garret said, “Father, I need to speak with you.”

  I sighed with hope. And wondered in what direction would this conversation between father and son leave as a marking upon me? They began.

  Chapter 10

  Garret

  “Garret, can you not see that I’m busy?” My father was only standing in the living room peering up at a pastel painting of him, Steven, and me in our lion shifter forms. It was deeply colored and jumped out at the observer who would study it. The artist was a friend of my father’s who saw us once after a run-in with an enemy pack.

  He said that he instantly picked up a camera and photographed us in a pose that suggested the king his cubs. My father found it flattering as he stood above us on a high rock shaped like the ventral pleats of a whale with striped grey lines. I was directly underneath him but resting and licking my paw from any dirt that I had treaded on. Steven sat next to me, pawing at his ear. The artist gave us Victorian silver manes and cloudy white coats. This was our true appearance.

  The background was millions of shooting stars and a clear night sky. I always came into this living room and gazed at how beautiful we were in that form. It made me often puff out my chest and flash the superiority of my patch of fur, which was white below the eyes that helped me to reflect light better. When I used my shifter eyes, my problems with the human cataracts would disappear.

  But as a human, like when I saw my father proudly staring at himself, my humbleness was always reminded when I witnessed my dad’s ego and that sometimes it got the better of his mood and social skills. We were lions. It was hard to sometimes relate to humans who could be so basic.

  “Am I disturbing your cogitating for this painting?”

  “I only just looked at this when you came in. I was about to tend to the pool and then trim the grass. It needs doing. I was speaking in future tense.”

  “What I have to say won’t take long. I’m sure you can spare me some time.”

  My father was enamored with himself. “When I’m in that form, I feel invincible, son. Unstoppable. Then I come back to my human self in this manner and feel defenseless as a man. Why don’t we choose to stay in our shifter forms twenty-four-seven?”

  “I think it would drive me mad personally. Being a wild cat all the time. Mating in that way. To not be able to come back to the human anatomy would be a scary thing.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” He took his gaze away from it and ran his hands across the mantel shelf to check for dust, the painting was above our electrical fireplace that we used in the winter times only. The cost of using it was very high so we rarely did. “How is your favored guest?”

  I accidently stood to attention, which I mistakenly did with my father when he asked questions in that stern and serious manner of his. “That’s what I want to speak with you about.”

  “Hmm. I find it hard to believe that you still need my approval for anything.”

  “Father …” He was no stranger to using the parental tactics of guilt tripping. “I’m thirty-one, but I still come to you with the most important factors of my life.”

  My father took a box of ammonia inhalants, which were known as smelling salts from the mahogany desk where a fax machine sat. “Would you like some?”

  “No. Thank you.”

  He went to sit down on our pedestal-based dining table which to some eyes, took on the appearance of a pair of wings holding up a flat chocolatey brown surface. It was six centimeters thick and seated six people. I pulled up a chair and sat with him as he inhaled the salts.

  He popped one of the salts up like a vacuum in one nostril, and then did the same with the other — only a little harder that time. “That should wake me up a little more. Now, you were saying that you want to involve me in something important?”

  “That’s right. Me and Ian want to move things along.”

  “And what do you need my approval for?”

  “You’re my father. It’s your job.”

  “That’s how you make me feel sometimes, Garret, that it’s a job that I need to sign and seal for.”

  “I know you already don’t approve.”

  “Then why come
to me expecting me to change my mind? You do as you please. You go where you need. And you stay here because it is also your home. But that boy that you have gotten pregnant is a strange one. Tender and soft, and snappy and quite cunning if you don’t watch him. I’ve seen him in his alter.”

  “That was the past.”

  “Yes. And now, let me guess, you want to mate him and become one?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Does he mean that much to you? Are you sure he is what you want?”

  “I admit. It was meant to be a one-night stand. I still ponder if that is the case.” After I said this, I heard a sad wolf-like whimper in the foyer and immediately got up with my father to see what it was. We were always very cautious about unexpected noises since the last attack which had the Chegun pack, cheetah shifters, stalking through our home and us thinking it was only the wind that blew down those books. We soon learned how wrong we were.

  “Do you want me to scope the house?”

  “I don’t smell anything threatening. Do you?”

  “No. But Father, last time…”

  “I know. I know.” He went back into the living room and walked over to the window, moving aside the curtain and checking. The only person visible was the hedge cutter that my father hired per hour each weekend. He was taking his cutters and gloves from the back of his black van that had the words Garden Co. written on the sides. That was the name of his business.

  I knew my father was searching for vigilantes, even though he played if off as not being worried. “Pah!” He let the curtain fall back into place and walked back to take some more smelling salts. “I sometimes feel too old for this.”

  I took some smelling salts and with my ring finger held down my left nostril as I inhaled from the right. I gave an almighty “Sniff,” that lasted for more than a few seconds. And then I switched to the other nostril. “Snifffffff!” This was a longer inhale and it whacked me into more than just diluted pupils and a spiking to the neurological system. I bolted back into my seat when it hit me.

  My father engaged me in conversation again, “If this Omega was to be a one-night stand then why do you treat him like a potential life mate?”

  Sniff-sniff-sniff, my nose felt free after that. “That’s the thing.” To witness my posture

  would have anybody thinking that I had dabbled in the white powders. My receptors, alongside my naval cavities were adapting to a change that I brought toward my olfactory. “I thought Ian was only a one-night stand, at first, but that changed when I realized that he is much more than that. He’s what I’ve been looking for.”

  “That’s deep, Garret. And I won’t challenge your perception of what you see. But this boy has shown unpredictability in the past.”

  “Yeah. And do you know it was me who saved that same unpredictable boy from jumping to his death?”

  “He tried to do that?”

  “Yeah. So, you can’t tell me that’s the same boy, Father. I think it’s enough for you to give him a chance. Don’t you think?”

  “It shows me he’s unstable.”

  “Then I’ll be the one to see that he has on a pair of stabilizer’s.”

  “Fine.” My father stood up out of being dearly defeated. He gave up the debate. “You win again, son. You have my approval.”

  “And what about your help with the festivities when it happens?”

  “You’re pushing it!” But for once, he had a glint of humor leaving that living room with him as he went to the front yard to speak with the hedge cutter who was just about to knock on the door for use of our garden hose around the back.

  I knew he would help. I had a good feeling that this marriage was going to happen. Now I just had to tell Ian the good news and see his blond and grey streaked hair light up the guest house. I dashed over to tell him!

  When I reached the guesthouse, I called out, “Ian, I have some good news!” I was upbeat and thrilled, and walked over to grab the remote control and programmed the home to blow a gently spring breeze as I felt that this would set the mood for some frolicking in the daises. I even set the room temperature to sexual seduction. Another round underneath the sheets would be greatly enjoyed as I pictured my mate jumping into my arms and leaving bite marks all over me.

  “Ian?” I called him again. And looked to see if I had any bottles of bubbly or something sweet. It was a celebration after all. “You should come out here! Nude will be fine.” I snickered to myself at that. But there was no movement coming from the bedroom. I reckoned he must be dozing off to sleep, after all, our sex session was taxing on the body.

  But when I got inside, there was nobody in the room, although I could see that one of the drawers was open and I went over to close it… only to see that a piece of paper had been ripped from my notepad and my fountain pen was gone. I scanned the room…and there was my fountain pen, by the artificial flowers and keys to my motorbike that I rarely ever used. The letter was tucked below the vase.

  I took it and unfolded the letter because it was in two-halves. I read it orally, “Dear Garret, instead of me having to face and get a lie out of you, I preferred to write you a letter so that you understand how much it hurt me to hear what you said. I should’ve been less gullible since the breakup with Drew. He too made me feel special at times. And in the end, I got hurt. Me and you are too soon, but felt so strong. It’s fine though. I wouldn’t want to give birth to our child and think in the back of my mind that it was only meant to be a one-night stand. I’m sure you don’t want this child, if that’s all I am to you. I had the deepest feelings for you, but I don’t want to just be a tea and no biscuit. And that’s why I’m leaving now, so it doesn’t hurt too much.

  I placed down the letter after I finished reading it, put aside the feeling of soggy scrambled eggs. I wasn’t sure what to think, or how Ian’s mind worked. He had me sucking on my fountain pen as I scurried around the guesthouse which didn’t have much to check.

  Ian’s presence was not in the bathroom, the garden, the living room, and surely wouldn’t be in the Purr manor. In irritation, I set the temperature to freezing and let my heated anxiety at losing my mate cool off literally. But doing so triggered my shifter’s eyes. And the idea to follow his scent which would be stronger in my lion-ego would save me time, so I got down upon my knees; threw my head back like I wanted to detach the connection and allowed my bodily clock to really go cold and found that the hairs on my skin were now transforming into my other personality that was less friendly. I roared when it was complete. “Roar!”

  I roared again in pity. Ian had forced me into a meltdown! I transfigured into my cloudy white coat and silvery mane and I no longer could resonate with Garret. I was all carnivore as soon as my feet hit the outside of the manor. My father transfigured, but as I swished past him at full speed, we could not match the cheetahs. I roared, and he understood that I had to do this alone when I hurriedly picked up my feet with quickened patters and tread small bits of dirt that hovered in the air from the last area I had passed.

  I caught some of his scent, the warm amber and sweltered blackberries tarnished from his worry of being jilted once again. It took me down an unfamiliar path, but like when on the hunt, I never gave up when it came to an unsettling road. I would find my mate!

  Chapter 11

  Ian

  I should’ve known, or easily guessed. When roses were delivered, I should make sure that they weren’t overlaid with poison. I got out at the nearest gas station and parked my father’s range rover and crossed the road. I needed to be out in the air, not locked in a vehicle.

  To move quicker, I transfigured into my wolf state and found that I could more easily navigate wherever I was going. I didn’t know Garret’s area well — but I stopped, smelt the earth with my extra keen sense of smell, allowed my nose to investigate before me, and then set off to where the closest main road was.

  I did not head toward Borthing or Wrendall. That was not my plan for now. I was heading to the main road to hit
chhike a ride away from not only Garret, but Drew and his mate, Drake, Steven, Trevor and Ethan, because living around here was only bringing me to soundwaves of melancholy.

  My large paws need intervals and rest periods. I chased a squirrel, then a rabbit, and then growled which was more of a howl at a few birds that had no fear in seeing me. Hunger was visiting me.

  I wasn’t free of my pregnancy symptoms. In my underbelly there were surges of nausea that made me whimper like a scared pup. The back of my tail brushing against trees. I was aware that this would leave my scent. I started to bang my midnight-black shoulders and the side of my back against a tree to stop the digestive system from tumbling on out.

  I had no time to hunt. My human brain was still ramming the reality of why I needed to go. So, I pushed on and didn’t stop until I reached my destination. But, as if tempting me to stop and leave more traces of my gland, I stopped and chased birds, bees, hedgehogs, and anything that moved. Even in this state I’d eat anything.

  I had come to a very thin road and cars often passed. It had a vast emptiness about it all around with dry, yellow grass and a few jump starter posts for cars. There was one bright orange telephone that could be used for large trucks. I turned back into human, always a painful procedure, and placed on my clothes that were now dirty from constantly falling and being picked up again.

  I hadn’t washed at Garret’s, so my appearance had the suspicion of an Omega tramp, even though my attire was still partially clean, although, I was still in the same clothes and I wouldn’t usually wear the same outfit for more than two days. I headed north with my thumb out as I tried to get some attention.

  I could’ve gone full frontal nude, but I wasn’t that desperate. My legs started to tire. And I became thirsty with no car having any mercy on me. Judgmental much? Yes, they all were. A few wound down their windows and glared at me to stay back and not get close to their vehicle. If I was offering a free drop your pants down service, then they would’ve. I just assumed this because the majority checked out my bare chest. My shirt let it all out in the open, it was the style, and then went to the lowest point of my navel. They didn’t care if it made me uncomfortable.