Page 1 of Carmichael's Omega

1 - Cassidy Morgana Daschel

Cassie

I almost trip over my own feet to avoid crashing into his bare chest. Embarrassing, but not quite as uncomfortable as seeing Rique Guerrero leaving Miranda's room at five o'clock in the morning wearing nothing but a pair of unbuttoned jeans and a sexy smile.

"Hey, Cassie, everything OK?"

"Hi, Rique! I'm good. How are you?" I respond brightly. Too brightly.

"Alright," he shrugs, but I see the shadow of pain in his dark eyes. It's the first thing I noticed about him; the pain of having the stunningly gorgeous Miranda Rivers kick him out of her bedroom, and her life, every morning before the girls of the Lambda Nu House are even awake.

Four weeks ago, I arrived on campus just in time for the spring semester. Because Rush was over, my sorority was chosen for me by my over-protective alpha. Rique was the first person I saw. Just after dawn, I was walking to the LaNu house, filled with equal parts trepidation and excitement, and he left out a side door of the pretty English Tudor house dressed, or undressed, just like he is now.

Shoes held in his right hand, t-shirt thrown over his shoulder, Rique leans over and grabs my overnight bag from me. He carries it downstairs like it weighs nothing when I know for a fact it's heavy. It's my textbooks.

"Heading home for the weekend?" he asks me casually as we both walk toward the front door.

I nod, choosing to stay quiet instead of blurting out the question on the tip of my tongue.

"Be safe, Cassidy," Rique sets my bag down at the door before turning and heading out the side entrance. I watch his muscled, tattooed back retreat as he pulls on his sneakers, one by one, while doing his routine walk-of-shame.

"Ready to go?" Miranda sashays down the stairs a moment later, wearing a pair of tight, white jeans and a soft yellow shirt that hangs off one shoulder. The strappy red kitten heels complete the ensemble. As I watch, she sweeps her long, dark hair back over one shoulder, revealing tasteful earrings of thin, white gold. I'm in awe of this woman, seriously. I could never wear white jeans. Do I even need to explain why?

Miranda is only a sophomore, just twenty years old. She's also the President of our chapter of Lambda Nu. And... an honest-to-goodness witch, which explains why she can wear white pants.

Bright eyes, the color of mint, crinkle a little at the corners when she sees my face. Rolling her eyes, she says, "careful you don't feel too sorry for him, hmm? Leave those feelings for people who really need sympathy, Cass."

"I know," I reply softly.

Miranda smiles. "I doubt it, girl, but that's why I like you so much." Jangling her keys in one hand, she sweeps out the door to the driveway. We can only fit six cars in the garage and driveway at the LaNu House, so officers get those spots. Everyone else parks in the street. Freshmen can't have cars on campus, so I didn't bring mine from home. I thought it might be annoying not to have it, but I've been able to walk or catch a ride whenever I need one so far.

"Are you sure you'll be OK riding the bus home?" Miranda asks me when we pull up to the GreyHound station a few minutes later. Worry is clear in her voice.

"Of course," I resist the urge to roll my eyes. It's a bus. Not to mention that this bus ride is filled with college students heading home for the weekend, just like me.

"Alright. Text me when you arrive, OK?"

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I honestly don't want to walk through that door. I don't have to. There are a lot of empty places I can go and hide. There are the Beta apartments at the packhouse. There are a couple of vacant houses scattered around packlands, but, honestly, I can't even think about trespassing without guilt welling up and making me feel a bit nauseous, which is ridiculous. No one in the pack will consider it trespassing except me. The heat houses? Naw, that would just be a reminder of my current poopy situation.

This whole hiding endeavor is fruitless. My family will find me in a heartbeat if I try to hide. I just really, really don't want to walk through that door.

My she-wolf paces in my mind. Maybe I shouldn't have come home. But how would I have explained that?I'm being ridiculous. It's only a three-day weekend. I can hide the truth for three days. From my family. From the wolves who are highly-trained to sense lies. From my twin.

I'm never going to be able to hide this.

They're expecting me. I haven't seen my family in a month, and that's a heinously long time to go without seeing your packmates, especially for me. I was so eager to go home just a few hours ago, but it's different when I'm faced with seeing my family again.

My she-wolf lies down to scratch at her belly. My hand echoes the motion. I think I may be getting hives from nerves. Great.

I see the door swing open and cringe internally.

"Cassie Daschel! Get in here!" one of my sister's two mates, Teague, bellows out, a broad grin on his face, thick arms open wide as if he can embrace me from forty feet away.

I smile weakly. I can see the energy in his colossal frame vibrate, then slowly leave when he affirms that it's me. He wanted to pick me up from school or at least send someone else, but I refused. I told them that this was about my independence. I may be an Omega, but I'm not helpless or defenseless.

I only take two steps before arms are surrounding me. A pair of delicate, soft ones and a massive set that envelopes us both. Tension seeps right out of my body. It feels good to be cuddled again.

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