Page 8 of Mating With My Grumpy Alphas
I could see her genuine anxiety beneath the clinical questions. Someone had clearly made her afraid of her own biology.
"Longer duration, more intense symptoms, stronger need for alpha support during the process. But again, completely manageable with proper preparation and people you trust."
"People I trust," she repeated thoughtfully, sounded so lost as she did.
"You don't have to decide anything today," I said gently. "But know that support is available if you want it. And if you decide to stay on suppressants, that's valid too. There's no wrong choice, only what feels right for you."
She was quiet for a long moment, turning the tea blend over in her hands like she was testing its weight.
"I'm next door most afternoons," I added. "If you have questions. About anything."
"Thank you," she said again, and this time the words seemed to carry more weight. "For the tea, and for... treating me like I know what's best for my own body."
"Because you do," I said simply.
After I left Pine & Pages, I found myself thinking about the careful way she'd asked her questions, the clinical distance she'd tried to maintain while discussing something so fundamentally personal. Someone had taught her to be afraid of her own omega nature, and that kind of conditioning took time and patience to heal.
But there had been something else in her scent, underneath the suppressant strain and old trauma. Strength. Resilience. The kind of omega who would reclaim her power once she felt safe enough to try.
I hoped I could be part of creating that safety, when she was ready for it.
Chapter 5
Rhett
The Tumble Mug was busier than usual for a Thursday evening, the bar hummed with conversations and the click of pool balls from the back room. I pushed through the door looking for Hollis, who’d texted me an hour ago asking if I wanted to grab a drink and “talk about things.”
I had a pretty good idea what “things” meant, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that conversation. But Hollis had been good to me over the years, and if he wanted to discuss the new omega who’d been occupying entirely too much of my mental space, I owed him that much.
What I hadn’t expected was to find Wes Thatcher and Elias Wren sitting at a corner table, both looking like they’d rather be anywhere else.
Great. Just great.
I considered turning around and leaving, but Wes had already spotted me. He raised his hand in a half-hearted wave that looked as reluctant as I felt.
“Rhett,” he called out. “You waiting for Hollis too?”
Too. That little word carried a lot of implications I didn’t want to examine. I walked over to their table, noting the way both men looked uncomfortable in a way that had nothing to do with the bar’s atmosphere.
“He asked you to meet him here?” I asked, settling into the empty chair across from them.
“Said he wanted to discuss ‘community integration,’” Elias said, making air quotes around the phrase. “You?”
“‘Talk aboutthings,’” I replied, using the same tone. “‘Things’ being suspiciously vague.”
Wes snorted. “I’m starting to think we’ve been set up.”
The three of us sat in awkward silence for a moment, each processing the implications of Hollis summoning all of us to the same place at the same time. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what we might have in common that would require discussion.
“So,” Elias said finally, his voice carefully neutral. “How’s everyone’s week been?”
“Fine,” Wes and I said simultaneously, then glared at each other for the synchronization.
“Mine’s been interesting,” Elias continued, apparently determined to push through the awkwardness. “Met some new people. The new omega who’s working at Pine & Pages seems to be settling in well.”
There it was. The elephant in the room, dressed up in polite small talk.
“Willa,” Wes said, and something in the way he said her name made my alpha instincts bristle slightly.
