Page 125 of Captive Omega

The music transitions from pop to deep bassy drum and bass. And it’s loud.

“Option two it is,” I mutter.

Annoyed at the noise, I gather my takeout trash and take it with me.

The music and party has to be Vaughn. I can’t see Blaine doing this. Or even Garrison… though he was the one who tossed the flamingo floaty in the pool so maybe they’re all involved.

No one is in the kitchen when I toss the containers into the trash and place my fork in the dishwasher. It’s hard to know if they aren’t in some meeting since I can’t hear myself think over that blasted music.

I stalk down the hallway, out through the back porch, skirt the pool and to the pool house.

The closer I approach, the more certain I am that they’re doing it on purpose. They have to know my room looks out onto the backyard.

I’m yelling as I grip the sliding glass door and shove it open. “If you guys are having a party out here, can you…” My voice trails off before I can complete my request—okay, it was a demand—to shut the music off.

No one is having a party in the pool house.

No one is even in the room, though it’s clear they have been here, and they have been busy.

After I perfumed, I told my mom that I didn’t need a wealthy alpha to provide me with something I could get for myself. If I went to Haven Academy, it might mean I ended up with an alpha I didn’t love or even want.

My nest was in my apartment. Just a quiet, out of the way corner I placed a beanbag and the fluffiest, softest blanket I could find. I stopped mourning that, and even my apartment, years ago.

It wasn’t stuff I missed. It was the people I left behind. It was my parents and Henry. But I don’t think I was honest with myself about what I needed.

My eyes fill with tears as I take in a pool house that Garrison, Vaughn, and Blaine transformed into a mint-green nest with bean bags, cushions, silk fabric, and fleecy throws everywhere. The restlessness that meant I could never truly relax in the room upstairs leaves my body in a rush.

On my left, near the glass sliding door, is a sleek, silver MP3 player attached to a set of compact white speakers, the source of the music. Someone has helpfully stuck a blue Post-it to the top.

Press stop to shut me up :)

So they did do it on purpose. Just not for the reason I thought.

Smiling, with tears in my eyes, I pick up the MP3 player and turn it off. Curling my toes in a dusky pink fur rug, I absorb a space filled with so much soft coziness, I never want to leave.

And when I look outside, that obnoxious hot pink flamingo is bobbing past.

I laugh and it turns into a sob. They didn’t just build me a nest; they gave me a sanctuary when I was so heartsick I didn’t think I would ever want to laugh again.

I pull the sliding door closed behind me, crawl into the pile of cushions, and I cry out all the pain in my heart in a place I never realized I needed until now.

Chapter 36

Resa

Even nestled in a space I never believed I would ever have, it doesn’t take long for my nightmares to rear their ugly heads.

I leave my nest, am halfway up the stairs when the light spilling out from a downstairs room makes me pause. I know that room. The den. And I think I can guess exactly who I will find sitting in an armchair in front of a fire.

Garrison.

Does he ever sleep?

I walk back down the stairs and I couldn’t tell you whether it’s biology or if it’s something else driving me. I just know it’s getting harder and harder to stay away from him.

Garrison gives no indication he knows I’m in the doorway until…

“If you take the red pieces, I might see myself finishing sometime this century.”

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