Page 12 of The Feisty Omega

I guessed that’s where bullies came from – it couldn’t be easy growing up with a dad like his. We’d grown up together and over the years I’d seen him sporting a few bruises that weren’t caused by the inevitable fights we young alphas typically had. I’d have felt sorry for him if he weren’t such a dick to the rest of us.

A lady I’d never seen before sat next to Alpha, and beside her sat another stranger. I guessed they must be Irian’s parents. As the other adults seated themselves on each side of the table and we adolescents piled into seats a bit further down, I moved down an extra space, so there was a seat for Irian beside me.

But as he pulled out his chair to sit down, someone cleared their throat, and a female voice wound its way through the general commotion, “Irian.”

When I looked up to see who was speaking – although I could already guess – the lady I assumed was his mother motioned towards the empty seat beside Mar. I hadn’t noticed it before.

Irian flicked a glance at the empty chair, and then up at me. He looked conflicted.

“Irian.” This time the voice had dropped deeper and the unmistakable weight of a compulsion sat in the air.

His mother was an alpha.

But… so was his father. This was hard to fathom, but I was distracted from this puzzle by the sight of Irian, shifting from foot to foot, blinking hard, cheeks flushed. A couple of lines furrowed his brow. He was fighting the compulsion.

It was always uncomfortable to resist a compulsion. Most of us found that out early on in life. Obviously, Irian didn’t want to comply, but resisting was hurting him. I saw a bead of sweat run down the side of his face. I didn’t like that he was being forced to leave my side where I could make sure he was enjoying the proceedings, but I didn’t want him to hurt himself either.

“It’s okay. Don’t fight it,” I leaned down, my voice the softest rumble in his ear, so faint even the shifter ears around us wouldn’t be able to hear. “You can come with us after lunch.”

His shoulders slumped as he gave up the struggle and turned away. Despite the disappointment of not having him sit next to me, I puffed out my chest. I really didn’t want him sad, but I felt strangely warm inside that he wanted to stay near me, and proud that he listened to my advice.

“I’ll be here.” I knew he heard me because his head came up and he gave a little huff, whether because I was sending him away or because he was annoyed at being compelled, I wasn’t sure.

My skin prickled as the searing gaze of Irian’s mother raked over me as he seated himself next to Mar, but I didn’t look up at her. It wouldn’t be acceptable to scowl at our Alpha’s guest. Still, if I could have, I’d have fucking compelled her in front ofherfriends and seen how she liked it.

The tight skin across my forehead warned me I was scowling, and I made a conscious effort to relax. I didn’t want to make Irian feel any more uncomfortable than he already did. A large presence slid into the seat beside me – it was Dar. He gave me a worried frown and the very faintest shake of his head.

When everyone was seated, Alpha gave the signal and we began to help ourselves to food. We didn’t need to be told twice. The plate in front of me was quickly heaped high with carnivorous delights, the aroma rising with the steam, filling my nostrils. Saliva pooled in my mouth in anticipation. I glanced towards the head of the table to see if Irian was as delighted with the feast as I was, and a low growl rumbled from my throat.

Mar was placing food on Irian’s plate!

Fortunately, no-one at the top end of the table heard my protest above the noise of everyone eating and talking at the same time. Dar, sitting next to me,didhear.

“Easy, Tal.”

I dragged my eyes away from the offensive sight of Mar placing another strip of venison on Irian’s plate.

“He’s fucking feeding him!”

Dar nodded. “I see it.”

“That’s a bit fucking much! He’s 16!”

Dar was watching me intently. His eyes narrowed, then he nodded slowly, as if confirming something to himself. A half smile danced across his lips.

“Stay calm,” he murmured. His eyes flicked back down the length of the table. “I don’t think you need to worry about this.”

I follow his gaze in time to see Irian leaning over the table and helping himself to a liberal serving of chicken and some potatoes.

“Thanks,” he was saying, smiling brightly at the young alpha beside him, “But I don’t eat venison.” My eyes widened as he slid the offending strips back onto Mar’s plate as if he were oblivious to the meaning of the food offering.

A public offering of food from an alpha was only made to a prospective mate. To refuse it was unheard of.

A shocked silence momentarily ceased all conversation at that end of the table. Forks froze in between mouths and plates, but Irian just continued smiling amiably as if nothing had happened. After a beat, almost everyone resumed eating their meals and took up conversations again. Mar looked peeved, more than a little shocked, probably, that the omega had stood up to him and rejected his offering. But he deserved it, the fucker, the omega hadn’t even reached the age of consent.

Irian sat down, ignoring a glare from his mother, and devoted himself to his chicken as if it were the tastiest thing he’d ever consumed. I was still staring at him, my food untouched on my plate. Did he feel the weight of my gaze? I wondered if he had, because a moment later he lifted his head, looked me straight in the eyes, and the corner of his mouth curved in a cheeky half-grin. It suddenly faded and he bit his lip, going from cocky to uncertain in the briefest of moments.

Feisty omega.

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