Page 9 of Happy Valentine's Day, Omega
The same Alpha who encouraged me to be whoever I wanted to be, even if that was a professional chess player.
The Alpha who was supposed to care for me most, signed me up for a legally binding union without so much as a call.
My brothers had to know, too.
They let me be blindsided.
My thoughts are getting progressively irrational as I imagine some sweaty, fat pureblood Alpha triple my age, eagerly awaiting his Omega mate.
How long ago was this deal made?
Has he been waiting for me to ripen on the vine to be plump for his plucking?
Ugh, barf.
The licking flames of fury are scalding hot when we arrive at my father's house.
My brothers, their mates, and my nieces and nephews occupy the living room.
I march right by them, seething with rage, and into the kitchen.
My dad jumps when I slam a black velvet box on the kitchen counter. Recovering quickly, he smiles, opens his arms wide, and calls my childhood nickname.
"My ladybug's home!"
I take a step back with my hand raised, eyes hard.
"Don't," I say through clenched teeth.
The kitchen door, still swinging from my entrance, is propped open as my brothers come to investigate.
"What isthat?" I point at the box.
He pales.
I wrench open the box and slam it back on the table. The diamonds and rubies glitter in the sunlight, casting skittering reflections around our outdated kitchen like snowflakes.
My distress pheromones are strong, the sour scent making the prickling silence in our family's kitchen more uncomfortable.
It has to be a mistake, and he'll clear it up in a moment.
My father sighs. "We thought we'd have more time to tell you."
It's almost a whisper, but the insinuation is clear: this is not a mistake, and it's not a surprise.
Taking a steadying breath, I step forward.
"Explain."
For the first time in my life, my father doesn't look like an Alpha.
The confident set of his shoulders melts and the air of control evaporates. He leans against the kitchen counter, messy with preparations for dinner, and looks genuinely guilty.
"We wanted to see you suitably matched. To pay off your debt."
"Debt?" I insist, confusion beginning to overcome my rage. "What debt?"
He scrubs his face with his right hand, little white scars littering his fingers from his work in construction. He looks older than I remember seeing him.
