The Omega Objection

by G. L. Carriger

  “You want to keep a clear head?”

  “Exactly.”

  “We could just plain old fuck, nothing kinky?”

  Isaac knew the truth in their dynamic. “I don’t think that’s possible with us.”

  “Good.” So much joy in such a simple word.

  Isaac made it an order. “You’ll wait?”

  “Of course. I’ve waited my whole life.” Tank’s big shoulders shrugged, his lashes lowered. “I’m honored you still even consider me.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Isaac scoffed. “I’ve been looking my whole life.”

  Tank flushed in pleasure. He was so perfect Isaac immediately wanted to break his word and fuck him as hard as he could into the mattress, holding him a little too tight the entire time. So they both knew who they belonged to.

  “I’m starving,” Isaac said instead, surprised to realize it was true.

  * * *

  Isaac wasn’t able to pinpoint the exact moment, but the decision crept over him slowly over the next few days. He supposed it was the pattern of them, the easy camaraderie, the notion that pack was a kind of chosen family, better than the real thing. Especially this pack.

  They were vulnerable, too, broken in ways only Isaac could see, that he wanted to help fix. Colin with his nervous hesitancy. Kevin with his brash protective fear. Judd with his lonely anger. Alec with his new shaky confidence. Bryan’s silence and Lovejoy’s trying too hard. Max with all his prickles and Marvin with his complete lack of them. They fit so well, and yet they were missing something.

  They were missing him.

  And then there was Tank. Tank, who thought he wasn’t necessary. Or missed that he was the reason for pack, their lynchpin and their fight. He was the one they all loved, they all teased, they all got along with. Yet somehow, they had lost him, forgotten to remind him of his worth.

  All these things Isaac could see. He was needed. He could choose them, and it would be work. Like any relationship was work. This pack would be an exercise in balance, every day. And yes, he would belong to them, but also they would belong to him.

  And best of all, he would belong.

  They listened as he spoke. They let him cook and clean if he wanted. And he did, he liked cooking and he was a bit of a neat freak. He loved how they responded to him. How they delighted to be taken care of, reveled in his presence and his attention.

  Alec stayed away as much as he could, running himself ragged to resist the urge to bite. He looked gaunt and Isaac doubted he was sleeping well. He certainly wasn’t eating very well. But he got up and interacted with his pack and went to his job at a bio firm, of all things, and came home and kissed his mate like they were in some modern sitcom. Isaac scoffed at the cheesiness of it and secretly loved it. And eventually realized he was yearning for it all. Comfortable around them.

  And that he trusted them. Which was terribly weak of him.

  They were open-hearted. They were easy to predict. They did not try to trap him, not even in discussions. Which is not to say there weren’t some heated discussions. Marvin had very strong feelings about shifter representation in film. They might have been all the stronger for his worrying over his mate’s deteriorating condition. But he never lashed out at Isaac for it and he never blamed him.

  The pack responded gently to all Isaac’s needles and tests, his rebuffs and withdrawals. Each time he marched out of the house in a huff and just walked away, they let him go. They let him walk down into town or out into the open space of parkland alone. They did not follow. They waited. When he returned it was to see Tank’s face brighten, his brown eyes fill with hope. The others were the same. Perhaps not quite so intense as Tank, but they wanted him to stay too.

  Isaac found he was weak in the face of hope and kindness, where he could be strong in response to need and abuse. He began to think that perhaps his constantly running was no good thing. He had relied for so long on what kept him alive, he neglected to realize that’s all it did. He wanted to live as well as be alive. He wanted to belong as well as stay. It was not weakness to trust. And it was not a horrible instinct to need a home.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Once and Future Kink

  Things were going well, Tank felt. Isaac was looking startled, yet comfortable with them. With him. Alec was looking worse and Marvin was looking worried, but their Alpha was holding himself together. Even Bryan was showing a bit of strain – he brewed at least six cups of tea a day. And Max came every night to dinner, showing that he did actually miss his mate. But Isaac was still with them. Comfortable.

  They were cleaning up after a pack dinner when it happened. Isaac was helping Tank scrub pans in companionable silence. Suddenly Isaac, up to his elbows in suds, turned and looked at the Alpha. Alec was sitting in the sunken living room helping Colin with his bio homework.

  Isaac spoke, as if they had all been having a conversation with him in his head. Which they hadn’t, so it was utterly out of the blue.

  “Okay then, let’s do it.”

  Dripping suds to the kitchen floor, Isaac sagged back against the sink, like some dam inside him had broken.

  Everyone paused what they were doing and turned to stare at him. Collectively holding their breath.

  Alec stood, trembling. “You mean?”

  “I think you should bite me now.”

  “Oh, thank fuck,” said Alec, sitting back down fast, as if his knees had given out.

  Marvin clapped his hands.

  Isaac added, so quickly the words almost ran together. “What’s the best way, do you think? I mean, if I must be bitten, do we stand, lie down, sit? I don’t know the right etiquette…”

  He seemed so lost.

  Marvin jumped in hurriedly, finger-pointed authoritatively at the deck. “Not in here, boys. You know how I feel about blood on my couches. Take it outside.”

  Tank thought that was a good idea. Isaac would be bitten under the stars with the trees and the ocean nearby. He would feel less trapped. It was also romantic. If one must be bitten…

  Alec pouted at his mate. “Deck’s bare wood.”

  Marvin sighed. “I might have some towels I’m willing to sacrifice.”

  Accordingly, Tank escorted Isaac outside and the others followed. Bryan had to help his Alpha, Alec was shaking so much, half starved and now pumped full of adrenaline. Tank hoped he was strong enough to do this carefully.

  The deck was big and unfinished, one section to the side was nothing but support beams. Plus, there was no railing or anything.

  “We aren’t quite done with it,” Tank apologized to his lover.

  “Oh, but it’s wonderful.” Isaac looked about him, as if the view were not the same from the living room. As if he hadn’t been staying with them for days. But Tank understood the awe, being up so high with such a vista all around and no barrier, not even glass.

  Max had inherited the house when is father died, but considered it ill-gotten gains, and consequently resented it. He’d given the pack carte blanche to do whatever they wished, so long as it was as different as possible from the gaudy monolithic opulence of the original building.

  As a result, they’d kept very little but the basic barn shape and frame, putting in windows wherever possible to bring the outside in. They’d pulled out carpet and put in hardwood, pale and beach-toned, letting Marvin’s ocean-modern aesthetic have free rein. They may be a pack of werewolves, but no one wanted to be on a merman’s bad side when it came to interior design. The result inside was harmonious and airy. But outside, on the deck under the broad night sky, it was sheer magic.

  The perfect place, thought Tank, for a rebirth.

  Marvin followed them, carrying a big pile of old beach towels.

  The pack assembled on the completed section of the deck, all of them sitting down, like children on a field trip.

  Tank thought they looked properly pack-like. Judd and Kevin were twitchy, as if they wanted to jump into fur and attack
Isaac. As if permission had been given for them to bite. Tank forced himself not to show teeth at the very idea. But Colin and Lovejoy seemed to instinctively understand that they must lean against the two enforcers, keeping them stable and distracted.

  Marvin laid out the towels as if for a picnic and gestured for Isaac to sit. Isaac looked warily back and forth between Tank and the merman.

  Tank sat first, opened his arms. He loved the precedent of this dynamic, him offering support to his lover.

  Isaac stayed standing, head cocked, waiting for something.

  Finally, Alec approached and knelt next to Tank. Bryan sat on his other side, big hand to his brother’s shoulder.

  Tank looked up. Only Max hadn’t joined them outside. The Magistar remained in the house. He had a glass of wine and an imperious expression, watching them through the window as if he were at the aquarium. Today, we will witness the biting rituals of the North American werewolf.

  Bryan followed Tank’s gaze and rolled his eyes at his mate.

  Max saluted them with his glass.

  Red wine, of course. Tank hid a smile.

  Alec snorted, looked up at Isaac. “You ready?”

  Isaac nodded and sat, partly in Tank’s lap, with his back to everyone else. Tank wrapped both arms around him, gentle and not too confining – support, not restriction.

  Isaac’s gave a tiny sigh and bent his head to Tank’s shoulder, exposing and offering his neck to Alec sitting next to them.

  This close, the sound of shifting into third form was gruesome. Even though it was just Alec’s skull (and maybe a few other organs, no one was really certain), it made such a loud, wet crunching.

  Then, like giving a child a shot, too fast for Isaac to get tense, Alec struck. His teeth clamped around the point where Isaac’s neck and shoulder met. It was not a death bite, no intent to kill, but it was violent and raw.

  “Saliva, Alec.” Bryan’s voice was low but firm. “You can’t be too nice. You must get your saliva into him.”

  “That is so gross,” said Marvin.

  Everyone else was dignified and silent, as if observing a sacred ritual.

  Tank was glad for Isaac’s weight, and now Alec’s too, pressed against Tank’s side – both of them relying on him to steady them.

  Tank had seen people take the maker bite before, of course he had. He’d witnessed the metamorphosis of many werewolves. But he’d never seen Alec administer the bite. His Alpha did it very neatly. Blood still leaked down Isaac’s chest and back, soaking his shirt, but it could’ve been a lot worse.

  Isaac sagged in the circle of Tank’s arms. Tank would’ve worried, except he could hear Isaac’s breathing, coarse and shallow, probably from pain.

  Alec stopped finally, then leaned a little back and began to lick at the gaping wound in Isaac’s neck.

  Werewolves heal faster and better than humans, although Judd said it was nowhere near like it had been before Saturation. It would take most of the night and a day of rest before Isaac’s bite mark turned pale and faint.

  Usually, a prospective werewolf either survived metamorphosis or died just after the bite. A human without the genetic predisposition would bleed out, while one with werewolf genes would shift for the first time. None of them knew what would happen to an Omega. Isaac already had a wolf form, he already was a werewolf.

  Alec sat back on his heels and stared. Still in third form, he cocked his shaggy head to one side, wolf eyes hopeful.

  Isaac’s scent shifted first. He went from smelling like nothing – absence – to smelling like home and pack and love and all good things. Them. All of them.

  Tank inhaled deeply, relishing the joy in such a simple change.

  Then Isaac began to shudder. His body became liquid, his bones breaking and reforming within Tank’s tentative embrace. He writhed and twisted and screamed. It was horrible and not like any shift Tank had ever witnessed. Certainly, shifting was always painful, but never this bad. It was as if Isaac were fighting to stay human, and then fighting to be a wolf, flickering between the two – dancing in limbo with his own flesh.

  Tank dropped him, afraid his hands would sink inside Isaac’s body.

  He looked at Alec, who was back to human form, and frowning.

  “Alpha, do something!” I promised him it would be okay. I told him to trust us!

  Alec shook his head, confused and worried.

  Tank crouched helpless over his lover as Isaac thrashed. His beautiful dark skin went white, like a photo negative, then back to normal.

  “TANK.” Alec’s VOICE cut through the horrible noise of bones breaking and flesh reforming over and over. Alpha command interrupted the fear throbbing in Tank’s head.

  He tore his eyes away from Isaac. “Yes, Alpha?”

  “SHIFT.”

  Tank found himself shifting, unable to disobey a direct command. His will was utterly subsumed to his Alpha’s will, and so he became wolf – big, dark, and strong.

  His mate was there. His mate was in such pain. So tormented. So lonely.

  Alec’s voice came again. “Isaac, precious? See? See how easy? SHIFT. Like Tank, go on, you can do it. Just let it go, remember how it once was? SHIFT NOW.”

  There finally, lying on Marvin’s old beach towels, bloody and shaking, was the panting form of a big white wolf.

  Tank folded his own bigger body against him. He licked the wound still visible on Isaac’s neck. He chuffed affection and welcome, buried his nose in the sweet-smelling ruff of his wonderful mate.

  Isaac gave a long sad whine.

  Tank pressed along the full length of him, comforting, lover, friend, home. Together.

  Then Kevin was there, wolf form, all russet power and protection. Of course, it would be easiest for him to shift, as he was already naked. Then Bryan’s big cream-colored shape, looking dirty next to the white of Isaac’s coat. Then Judd, and then Lovejoy, and then even Colin, who rarely shifted outside of full moon.

  Finally, Alec shifted too, immeasurably pleased, piled on top of them all, tongue lolling. They could feel the rolls of his happiness settling over them through their tethers.

  They were one big puppy pile, each touching a small part of Isaac, warmth and safety and pack.

  * * *

  Isaac figured he must have fallen asleep, like an idiot. When he awoke, he didn’t know where he was, but he was warm and the air was fresh about him – full of interesting evening scents. There was salt spray of ocean in the distance, and closer, that of fish mixed with man. There were a lot of wolves, too, but that did not scare him because it was pack. Mine. My pack.

  Isaac stumbled to his feet and noticed they were big white paws. Holy shit, I’m in fur.

  He felt…

  What do I feel?

  He felt… good?

  He looked around, ears pricked forward, taking in the pile of fur, identifying and knowing each body. The large solid forms of the two enforcers – guardians, protectors. Swift to act, sometimes rash, he would need to temper them with caution. The smaller forms of Lovejoy and Colin. Confidence, Isaac thought. They showed their lack differently, but they both needed confidence. The steadying reassurance of the Beta pulsed slower, the heartbeat of the pack. But Bryan’s focus was always Alpha first, mate second, pack third. As it should be. But the pack needed an Omega to knit them all together. To remind even the Beta that he was one of many, and that the weight of cohesion and responsibility was not solely on him. There, at the center, was the beacon of Alpha – power, sacrifice, responsibility. Beneath it all, constant and calm, loving and waiting, was Tank. He was awake and watching Isaac, pale yellow eyes intent, ears pricked forward.

  Isaac stretched into a lupine bow, an invitation to play. Hesitant, wary, the massive brown wolf extracted himself from the pile and approached.

  He chuffed a soft query.

  Isaac chuffed back, tilted his head, and wagged his tail.

  Tank tried a cautious nudge, nearly
knocking Isaac over with his fat, fluffy head. Isaac bounced to the side, then up and forward, trying to tackle-hug Tank with his front paws.

  Tank’s ears twitched in the animal equivalent of extreme skepticism. Isaac couldn’t possibly get the kind of leverage needed to topple a wolf of Tank’s size.

  Isaac yipped and pushed, undaunted.

  Tank gave him a yellow-eyed look of Are you quite crazy? Then, slowly, humoring Isaac, he tipped to one side so Isaac could pounce on top of him.

  They wrestled gently.

  Isaac could tell Tank was holding everything back, scared of hurting him. He wondered if Tank spent his whole life scared of the world. Not because he feared what it might do to him, but because he feared the damage he could do to it.

  They played until a throat clearing interrupted them. Isaac stopped and found that Alec and Colin had changed back to human form. The others were still wolves, relaxed but vigilant, watching them play, tongues out and ears perky.

  Alec smiled. “Okay you two, change back, please. We aren’t done talking. I’ll go find some clothes.”

  Tank nudged at Isaac with his nose, clearly expecting him to shift first.

  Isaac tried. He scrunched up his face, bared his teeth, and attempted to push himself into human form. It just wasn’t there, like switching to a TV channel that was no longer available. Those few times he had shifted since puberty, he’d always seen his human body in his mind’s eye, weak and pathetic, and curled in the recess of his wolf’s control. He’d visualized himself diving into that form, as if diving down a deep well where his human self lay shivering at the bottom.

  But that form wasn’t there anymore. Neither was the well. Human Isaac was gone – not trapped, simply absent.

  He whimpered and looked to Alec, who had paused in the act of going inside and was watching him.

  Alec said, “Tank, show him.”

  Tank shifted. His dark, thick fur shrank short and then receded all over his body, until all that was left was on his head and chest and around the base of his pretty cock.