Page 12 of Laurels and Liquor

I press my lips together in thought. I’m about to respond when the sound of tires on gravel outside draws all our attention. Caleb jumps to his feet and makes it to the front door right as it flies open, catching it before it can slam into the wall. Sylvie waddles in, her pregnant belly slightly rounder than I remember, but not quite to ready-to-pop levels. She shoves a few strands of her bubble-gum pink hair out of her face after she shucks her coat. Her smile is kind as she looks at me.

Watching him fuss over her twists my heart in a peculiar way. He helps her put her feet up and takes off her shoes, treating her with the utmost gentleness. And even though she throws me a look of amused exasperation, she doesn’t stop him. They seem to communicate without words, holding eye contact for a long moment before Caleb leans down and kisses the top of her belly, and then her cheek.

“Hello, Lucas. Glad you decided to come over,” she says with a grin.

“Thank you for letting us loiter for a few hours,” he replies with his usual disarming charm.

“As long as you make good on your promise to cook us that incredible pasta thing Caleb won’t shut up about, then I think I can forgive the intrusion,” she jokes, one of her hands rubbing idly on her belly.

“I’ll do one better. I’ll teach him how to make it himself,” Lucas says, throwing a smirk in the alpha’s direction.

Sylvie and I chuckle, and Lucas starts back toward the kitchen, but Caleb sticks around for a few more seconds, tucking the blanket around his mate’s legs, fluffing her pillow. Finally, she lets out a huff and shoos him away for his cooking lesson.

“You’d think this was his first with the way he worries.” She sighs, relaxing back and turning her attention to me.

I chuckle slightly, glancing at the pictures on the mantle. Sylvie isn’t the first person Caleb has had a child with, but his previous partner Beth has primary custody of their son, Leo. There are a few pictures of Caleb, Sylvie, and the little boy together, placed centrally among the collection of snapshots and professional portraits, as well as handmade art pieces.

“I heard about what happened to your mate, and I can’t—”

“We’re not mated,” I say, cutting across her sharply, but my frustration is with me alone.

Every day without Rhett, my mind replays the same guilt-ridden thought, the one I haven’t spoken to my pack about. When I’d decided a while ago that Pack Saint Clair is it for me, I couldn’t bring myself to let them force my heat so we could bond. But I should have faced the memories and fear and done what I had to, to protect Rhett and the pack.

I have no one to blame but myself that we aren’t mated.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought based on how you’ve been—hmmm.”

Sylvie starts sincerely, but then breaks off with a hum of thought, pressing her lips together as she furrows her brow.

“What?” I ask, a little more harshly than I’d intended.

“Are you the first omega in your family?” she asks suddenly, turning to me with bright but serious eyes.

I shake my head. “My mother is an omega. I have a few cousins, and cousins-in-law who are omegas, too. But I don’t know—why does that matter?”

She sighs and almost absently twirls a piece of her hair between her fingers with one hand as she rubs her belly with the other.

“I have a strong maternal line of omegas, so I knew what to expect when I found my person. I don’t want to assume, but it seems like no one really explained what being an omega means,” she says, picking her words carefully.

I let out a sharp breath. “No, not really. I learned more about mating and knotting in my public school’s sex ed class than I did at home. The only thing my parents made sure I understood was my place in the hierarchy, which was firmly at the bottom,” I grumble.

Sylvie chuckles, but her smile is understanding. “That’s okay. I just… I know it might seem like overstepping, but Caleb has been telling me about how you’ve been over the last week, and I thought maybe I could help.”

So it’s been a week. That answers that question, but it certainly doesn’t make me feel better. If anything, knowing only makes it hurt worse. I’ve let all that time slip away, and for what? Why can’t I pull myself together? The rest of my pack has. The brief moments of clarity I do have aren’t enough, and they never last. Frustration at myself and this situation build under my skin, warring with the ever-present longing that fills every cell of my body every minute of every day.

“It feels like you’re ripped in half, doesn’t it? Your body is here, but the rest of you is somewhere else?” she prompts gently.

I look up at her, eyes wide. She put it into words exactly what I couldn’t.

“Caleb was called overseas very suddenly a few days after we bonded, and it was non-negotiable. He was only gone for six weeks, but I will never forget the soul-crushing loneliness of those first few days. We hadn’t figured out how to feel each other yet, let alone do it over distances. It felt like someone had dug my soul from my chest with their bare hands and left me to bleed. Caleb knew something was wrong, and he was going through his own struggle, but couldn’t figure out how to help me. I went to the emergency room, but no one could find anything physically wrong with me. My mother was the only one who could help, the only one who understood that I was going through agony because my bond mate was taken from me,” she explains.

I blink at her, trying to get my mind to comprehend her words. Everything she said makes sense, and she’s describing my struggle perfectly, but Rhett and I aren’t bond mates. When I went through my heat a few months ago, Rhett and I had been on one date and barely knew each other. He very specifically wouldn’t let me touch him despite my wanting to, and even after my heat broke, none of my alphas have bitten me hard enough to break the skin. It’s been one of my limits since the beginning. They can nip and suck, but they can’t draw blood. After taking these precautions, there’s no way this could be true. And yet…

“When my mother and grandmother explained bonding to me, they told me that the sex and the bites are only part of the equation. A true mating bond, one that lasts, has to be formed on a foundation of love and trust. They said that an omega can form a sort of pseudo-bond with an alpha without ever going into heat if the connection between them is strong enough,” Sylvie goes on.

I gape at her for another long moment, letting the words rush over me. Could I already have this pseudo-bond with Rhett? I’ve never heard of it, but then again, there are plenty of things about omegas and mating I’d never heard of until after I left my family. I didn’t even know heat suppressants were a thing until I went through my first heat cycle. It wouldn’t be entirely out of character for my mother to hide this sort of thing from me, if she even knew it existed. Though with how hard she pushed for Darren and me to be together, I’m sure she would have jumped on any chance to claim I belonged to him. It almost seems crazy, to bond with someone without ever knowing it.

But considering how I’ve felt this past week, and everything I’ve been through with Rhett, I can’t dismiss the thought out of hand. While I don’t think of my relationship with him as being any different from the ones I have with Mateo, Lex, or even Lucas, I can’t deny that Rhett has always had a certain potent effect on me. His touch could calm me from my worst panic attacks, and the sound of his voice is enough to turn me into a puddle. Even thinking about him now, and acknowledging the possibility of a pseudo-bond, seems to soothe the raw edges of the wound in my heart.

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