Page 5 of The Beta: Part One

Chapter 3

Talia

Jasper approved the menu suggestions I sent, and he told me he already planned burgers for dinner. He told me I could make any sides I want because they will eat practically anything. I didn’t expect them to welcome me with bells and whistles, but I did expect a little more warmth than this. It’s fine, though. So long as I do everything required of me and make sure Jasper has no complaints I'll make this work.

And Jasper.

Oh my god Jasper.

He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. He’s an angel. Dark, shaggy curls, green eyes, fair complexion, fine bone structure, a full, puffy mouth. Absolutely ethereal. Everything a male omega should ever be. And his orange and vanilla scent is exquisite, addictive. I also feel this insane pull toward him, and I wonder if it’s reciprocal in any way or if it’s just part of his omega allure.

I decided before I ever walked through the door that I was going to make pleasing him my mission so I could have a chance at a home, but now? Now I want to do anything I can for him just so he’ll be happy. He feels, looks, and smells like home to me.

I know my mother hopes that being here will awaken something within me, but I know it won’t. I just want to try to make this work so I might be accepted. I’ve been rejected so many times. I’m just not programmed to stand by and watch while weak alphas do things that damage their packs, or keep quiet while other pack members disrespect the integrity of the pack. I just can’t seem to stop coming across as disrespectful when I see these injustices, and after being rejected the first few times it was just so much easier to let other packs reject me.

When I was younger I spent every day wishing my mother was right, and I’d have some kind of great omega awakening like she’s still determined to hope I’ll have. She wasn’t too concerned when I didn’t cycle like most omegas, there were the rare few that were late bloomers. When I still didn’t have one after she took me to an absurd number of social meetings to introduce me to alphas, she started getting concerned. She had hoped that maybe I was the even more rare form of omega that didn’t cycle until presented to her alphas. Like her.

At that point I refused to attend any more meet and greets and registered as a beta, she was extremely displeased and has continued to be delusional about the whole thing. I cannot help that I look like an omega any more than I can help the fact that I’m just not one.

She still hopes if I’m exposed to an alpha or a pack of them strong enough, worthy enough, that I’ll magically go into a heat cycle, and I just tune all her suggestions out now. She’s utterly convinced that this pack of assholes will throw me into a cycle since they’re so strong and she won’t stop bringing it up. It’s so frustrating to keep disappointing her, but I can’t help that, either.

Burgers are done. The ingredients for baked macaroni and cheese, deviled eggs, and pea salad were in the kitchen, and I get everything into serving dishes before I text Jasper to let him know dinner is ready whenever he wants it. I’m not actually sure if he wants it brought to him or if he wants me to hang around the kitchen while he eats, but I didn’t get the idea that anyone wanted to spend any quality time with me. Which is fine, because I just want to be quietly and safely in the background. I am even willing to overlook things that I previously considered a line in the sand because this is my last opportunity. I can’t forget that.

He doesn't respond, so I send out a group text letting everyone know dinner’s ready and I take my plate up to my huge, stuffy room. They clearly didn’t go to any trouble, also fine; I don’t need much more than a place to sleep and store the few belongings I brought with me. After I finish my burger I pull out the book I’ve been reading.

I already cleaned the dinner prep mess in the kitchen, so other than whatever dishes are dirtied tonight there’s nothing for me to do until tomorrow. They haven’t given me any other direction besides basic household chores and doing whatever Jasper needs me to do, so I guess I’ll have lots of time to finish this book and probably a few more.

I must have fallen asleep. My book flies out of my hands when I jolt upright when someone starts pounding on the door demanding to know what exactly the fuck I’m doing. I yank it open and glare at Nathan. Well, I glare up at him because those brown eyes are nearly a foot and a half higher than the top of my head. “Can I help you?” I snip. I don’t think I missed a text, but I also didn’t check my phone. I don’t usually sleep so soundly that I miss notifications.

“Why didn’t you take Jasper his dinner?”

He’s this angry about that? Fine. “No one told me to do that,” I retort. None of them said to do it and Jasper didn’t ask me to. If that’s a requirement I absolutely don’t mind, I’ll hand deliver every single bite of food Jasper eats to his door, but I was told specifically not to bother him outside of necessity. I will the bite from my voice, “I have absolutely no problem bringing his food to him wherever he wants to have it, all he has to do is let me know.”

“You’re up here sleeping when there’s a mess in the kitchen. You’re here to help Jasper run the house, not be on vacation.”

Okay. It’s going to be more difficult to maintain neutrality than I anticipated. Especially if this is how they treat each other in this pack. “I’ll be right there to clean up,” I say, not knowing what else he wants from me. He turns and stomps down the stairs. Phenomenal.

There is a mess in the kitchen. A huge mess. How in the world did five men make this much of a mess putting burgers on plates? If it’s like this it’s no wonder this pack needs a beta. I jump right into cleaning up dishes and counters, putting leftovers in the fridge.

I work for a few minutes before I realize I’m not alone in the kitchen. Trent is standing in the doorway, watching me clean up this disaster with his arms crossed. I find it funny that he has an entire garden full of gorgeous ink flowers running up both his arms that connect to the red admiral butterfly tattoo all four alphas have on their neck. Flowers and butterflies that pretty should be reserved for beautiful men with sweet dispositions, not hot assholes like Trent.

I don’t have anything polite to say, so I just keep cleaning without acknowledging him. I’m not purposefully trying to be disrespectful, I just don’t know what he wants from me.

“You missed a spot.” He says it with a mouth full of bullshit. I didn’t miss any spots. But I turn from the sink and look around. Yeah, no spots.

“Where? I don’t see anything,” I say, still making a show of looking around the kitchen.

“Right there.” He’s not pointing, just looking me straight in the eyes. Oh. He wants to push me. I’m sure he’s seen my file, so I guess this is an attempt to get me to lose my temper. Fine.

“Do you mind showing me where the spot is? I really don’t see anything,” I ask, inserting a pound of sugar into my voice. He doesn’t say anything else for a full minute and does the eye contact thing alphas enjoy doing so much. Fine. I drop eye contact and go back to bleaching the counters.

He stands there watching me until I finish the counters and continues watching as I clean the floors. I do another once over just to make sure I didn’t miss anything. He’s still watching me. “You didn’t get it,” he tells me again.

I take a very quiet breath. “Please show me the spot you’re seeing, because I just can’t see it.”

“It’s right there.”

There is no fucking spot. I can’t call him a liar. I can’t accuse him of fucking with me. I can’t ask him if he’s blind or delusional. All I can do is ask again. “Will you show me what you’re seeing?”

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