Page 6 of Small Town Shy Omega
“The guest rooms are fine,” he murmured, keeping his voice neutral—betraying no disappointment, no resentment that I wasn’t letting him into my nest.
I looked around, fending off childish tears. My cottage was my safe space, an homage to my grandfather’s memory. I’d inherited after he passed, and it reminded me that not everyonesaw me as worthless, unworthy of being a part of their family, as my stepparents had decided. In these grounds, I walked silently, read novels, and took the air. With Alphas around, I’d have no time to myself, though looking at their big muscles, I was confident they could do manual labor.
My mauve-and-sparkle eyes went back to them, and a chilled sigh escaped me.
“You may sleep in the guest bedrooms, then.” I only had three; I prayed no stray pack members would roll around, bugging me. “They have not been… cleaned in quite some time, and the roof in one has water damage—"
“We can fix that,” the biggest, brawniest Alpha of the three growled—and I clutched the door frame, for I felt faint.
“Well, come in,” I murmured, already mourning my loss of solitude. Personal space was all a girl had, after all. “You are forbidden in my nest, though. And anywhere near the nook.”
Blake nodded.
He didn't hold my jaw—didn't clutch it, nor force it to face him. When he touched my jaw, he just…
Held it.
Lightly, softly… to tell me that hewould do as he said, and his pack would stay in line.
Respect my space, my nest, my privacy.
“We are at your service, sweetie,” and I heard Blake’s Alpha purr, low and gentle. “Anything you want us to do, we’ll do.”
“You can start with the dishes,”I murmured later that afternoon, after they’d all gotten settled. I had two sinks full of dishes; my sherbet cookies required lots of clean-up, and sometimes I grew so tired I could hardly do the dishes.
For weeks at a time, sometimes I would just add to the pile… My sink had so many dishes, I could not reach my Lilles that I had not watered in a fortnight now.
Blake bowed, picking up the sponge right away.
“At your service,” he growled, filling my sink with hot water and suds.
I learned the other two names: Josh and Dreydon.
Josh was the movie star Alpha, the one I thought looked like a golden retriever. The one with the kind, emerald eyes.
And Dreydon?
Shudders swept across me, and I had to pinch myself to remain standing. Dreydon was… scary, menacing. And very, very large.
He masculinely burst through the kitchen doors, growling as a bit of plaster ripped off. He was too big—too big to fit through my cottage doors, and I sensed he’d stretch out… every door that I had.
Dreydon whipped through my dishes, alongside Blake while Josh? He took out my three garbage cans that were overflowing, bringing them straight to the trash.
I was just a small-town girl. I rarely left my cottage, and when I did it was only to go to the farmers’ market. Most days I hardly remember to feed myself, especially if I smoked a bowl in my art studio.
“My lady,” Blake growled, bowing before me… after the pack whipped through the dishes.
Blinking, I could hardly believe they’d washed up so fast. I mean, my entire kitchen was sparkling new—other Alphas certainly hadn’t done that.
“We wantto make it official, Layla. And we want to have your consent.”
Blake slid a paper form in front of me. I signed it, appreciating how much they valued my consent and personal space.
The form stipulated that:
— They were not allowed in my nest nook without my consent
— They could only use the dilapidated guest bath
