Page 31 of These Bonds that Unite Us
When she feels I’ve relaxed enough to move on, she asks me if I’ve shared a story about my sister yet today. When I first started seeing her a few weeks ago, she’d given me ‘homework’ in the form of talking about the happy memories I have of Elizabeth.
At first, I was reluctant because it was hard to remember the good when the bad felt so overwhelming, but it has gotten easier. It’s like the picture I have of my sister in my mind has slowly shifted from the frail, lifeless person she was toward the end to the spirited daredevil she was when we were younger.
“I have not yet.” I hesitate for a second, not wanting to redirect our conversation away from dealing with my grief, but it strikes me Mia could have better advice for me regarding what to do to get through to Omen. “Actually, I was hoping we could discuss something else today.”
She gives me a knowing look. “We can take the conversation wherever you need it to go.”
“A few weeks before I restarted my therapy journey, my packmates and I met an omega.” I briefly fill her in on how we met Omen and started to grow close to her. Everything from our decision to ask her to formally be our omega and then finding out she was born Sarah Montgomery spills from my lips.
She takes my information dump in stride, nodding along and making notes when she wants to follow up on something. “How did you feel when you learned her true identity?”
“Pissed off. Betrayed. Fucking terrified.” My head shakes as my disappointment with my past actions resurfaces. “I was–am–in love with her, but to hear she’s related to the person I blame for my sister’s death? I didn’t handle the situation well at all.”
“You don’t sound angry when you speak about it now, what changed?”
“Partially, you. These sessions. Working through my anger toward my sister’s Fate matched mate has helped me see the truth about her death. Benjamin Montgomery may have had a hand in her decline, but it was ultimately Liz’s decision to take her own life.”
She nods, a wisp of pride gleaming in her eyes when I speak the words freely. I’ve fought her a lot about Ben Montgomery’s role in my sister’s death. Accepting that my sister’s life-ending decision was her own choice had been one of the most difficult journeys I’ve ever had to undertake. But I would do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant healing enough to see how deeply I’ve betrayed my omega.
“And how do you feel now? About your omega’s identity as Sarah Montgomery?”
“Heartbroken.” Mia’s brows twitch, so I rush to explain myself. “Not because of who she used to be, but because I now know the abuse she faced growing up in their family.”
“What made you realize that? Did you speak with her?”
“I saw the live stream of her confronting her father. It was… jarring to realize there was more to her story than I’d originally assumed. The way he treated her–my stomach still gets sick remembering it.” I doubt the sound of Grant Montgomery’s fist connecting with Omen’s body will ever leave my mind. Nor will the dreary look in her green eyes as she stared up at him. “The only thing worse than realizing she was used to the way he was treating her was seeing the signs of rejection.”
“You believe she has Rejected Omega Syndrome? Did you or your packmates reject her?” Mia asks.
“She does or doesn’t really. It’s confusing. We never rejected her, but according to her adoptive mother, her body is convinced we rejected her without us actually speaking the words. A chemical rejection is what she called it.” I still don’t understand how that whole thing works, and if I hadn’t seen the signs of it myself I wouldn’t believe it was possible.
“Personally, I have never encountered someone with Rejected Omega Syndrome, so a chemical rejection is a new concept for me.” Mia seems contemplative as she jots notes on her yellow legal pad. Her warm blue eyes move back to me a fewseconds later. “What challenges are you facing now that you’ve discovered Omen’s chemical rejection?”
I explain the mistakes I made in pushing our girl away–the cruel messages, the threat of legal charges, all of it–before telling her the steps we’ve already taken to fix things. “There are new threats to her safety, so she’s staying here at the pack house with us.”
“This is a good thing, isn’t it? You and your packmates want a chance to prove yourselves to her?” She directs the conversation gently, with questions to steer my thoughts in a productive direction.
“It could be a great thing, but I’m struggling to find ways to make up for my mistakes. The impulsive choices I made after learning she was a Montgomery have resulted in life-threatening consequences for Omen. How do I even begin to make up for the pain I’ve caused her?”
I don’t know where to go from here. None of the ideas I’ve come up with feel grand enough to make a dent in the debt of wrongdoing I owe her.
Mia asks me several follow-up questions and we spend the rest of the session brainstorming together while finding ways to balance my own needs and the needs of my pack. It feels productive, and as I close my laptop lid hope brews anew in my heart. I know what steps to take next, paths we could follow to start to earn Omen’s trust again.
Heading downstairs, I find Titan in our small home gym. He’s shirtless and sweat-soaked, working off his frustrations on the heavy bag. I move into his peripherals so he knows I’m there and wait for him to finish his set before I share my plan. He’s quick to agree, his black eyes already swirling with ideas of his own. I leave him to his work out and head into the library where he suggested I might find Nexus.
My alpha mate is sitting in one of the plush chairs he picked out for the room, a book laid across his lap. He’s staring out the windows onto our small enclosed patio. Seeing him so beaten down and lost breaks my heart.
Guilt is everlasting when I’m faced with constant reminders of the many ways I’ve failed them. I slip into the room and sink to the floor beside him, letting my fingers trail through his messy auburn hair. His warm brown eyes meet mine moments before he offers me a half smile.
Our relationship has never been as rocky as it is right now. I know he blames me as much as I blame myself, but like the situation with Omen, I can’t figure out how to make it up to my sweet mate.
“I have an idea.”
“I’m listening,” he mutters. With each word, his eyes grow a little brighter, and he’s soon nodding rapidly. “Yeah. That’s good, Neb, really good.”
Leaning over the arm of his chair I press my lips to his in a soft, sweet kiss, hoping he can feel my remorse and sorrow. He hesitates for a moment before kissing me back. Neither of us tries to take it any further, not when our hearts are focused on the fragmented omega upstairs. Trailing my fingers over his stubble-covered jaw, I push to my feet and leave to track down my beta.
Callisto is standing by the picture window at the end of the hallway outside of the guest room. His hands are stuffed in the front pockets of his skinny jeans and his shoulders are slumped. My chest presses against his back, offering him the comfort of my touch while I whisper my plan in his ear. His dual-toned eyes turn to me with adoration. A soft smile plays on his lips as they press to my cheek.
