Page 5 of Want It All
Omega, my alpha growled.Frightened. Sad. Make it better.
I can’t make it better, I told him.I caused the fucking problem.
‘Omega?’ Whispers began to circle the room, which was a surprise to literally no one. This place was overflowing with alphas, some already building packs, and I’d just announced the prize of all prizes – an omega who washere.
I’d made her a walking target.
I took a step forward, an apology forming on my tongue, but she looked deliberately down at her plate. With a quiet dignity I never could have mustered in her place, she gathered up her meal and glass and took them to the waiting bay, most of her food untouched.
A woman stepped towards her, her eyes dark with intent. ‘Omega –’
I snarled.
The sound ripped through the room; the other alpha straightened. It wasn’t just because of the sound; she’d caught sight of my monitors.
No one wanted to fuck with an alpha who was at best unpredictable, and at worst, dangerous.
At least not on the first night of orientation week.
The woman stepped back, giving the omega some space.
The omega didn’t look at me; I didn’t expect her to. She just walked with a straight spine through the dining hall, disappearing into the maze of corridors that made up the bowels of this pretentious hellscape.
It was then I noticed that other students had their phones out, their camera lights blinking.
Might as well give them a finale.
‘If anyone touches her without her express and ongoing consent,’ I ground out, my voice dangerously low, ‘or makes her feel uncomfortable, or so much aslooksat her if she doesn’t want it, I’ll tear their fucking arms off.’ I wouldn’t do any such thing, but they didn’t know that. I pinned the woman who’d approached her with my best glare; she dropped her gaze to the ground. ‘Justtry me.’
I spun on my heel and stormed from the dining hall, guilt like a weighted blanket across my shoulders.
Fuck, B – you couldn’t have waited until class started to make a scene?
‘Helpful, Tina, thanks,’ I muttered to the memory voice.
My phone vibrated against my thigh; my monitors lit up with a matching flash. I fished my phone from my pocket, knowing I had no choice but to answer. ‘Hi, Dr. Ford.’
‘Byron.’ My APF liaison officer was always polite and well-mannered. ‘Your mother just called me.’
If I’d had any doubts about how quickly the rumour mill worked at Banksia House, I wouldn’t any longer. Someone in the dining hall must have live streamed the entire fucking thing for my mother to hear about it that swiftly. ‘Dr. Ford –’
‘To be clear, Byron, I’m calling to ask how you are.’
I inhaled slowly. Dr. Ford wasn’t bad. In fact, he was great. But he got paid to keep an eye on me, and it was a job he took seriously. I couldn’t help but feel like a toddler, or something squirming under a microscope. ‘I feel like an utter fool. And a complete asshole. I can’t believe I did that.’
‘I saw your face,’ he said gently. ‘It wasn’t intentional – it was a gut reaction. You were surprised. Being an asshole is generally a deliberate choice.’ He paused. ‘How did you know? That she was an omega, I mean? Aren’t you all taking scent blockers?’
It was a difficult question to answer. She justwas, as if it were something so innate she couldn’t hope to hide it. She wasn’tsmaller than everyone else – it was a popular misconception, and one encouraged by TV, books, and film, that all omegas were tiny – and nothing about the way she looked made it obvious. Anyone could have auburn hair, brown eyes, and a cute button nose.
It was the way shefelt– as if she should have been at the centre of the room, at the centre ofeverything. As if I should have fallen to my fucking knees and prayed for her to notice me, to let me serve her, to let me worship her like the goddess she was.
‘I’m not entirely sure,’ I said, because it was the only answer I could give.
There was a short silence. ‘What will you do?’
I stopped in the corridor and looked out the window. The view was of Banksia’s grounds, then all the way down to the cliffs and the sea, made inky by the oncoming night. It was pretty, even if I generally preferred things to be wilder, a little less tamed. ‘I’ll try to apologise, I guess, although I’m sure she won’t want to hear it. I won’t force my company on her. The least I can do is leave her alone.’
‘You could try an apology from a distance – an email, perhaps. Something she could read in her own time, in her own space. It could be less intimidating.’
