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Omega House Books 6-10: Alpha Omega MPreg Romance Box Set Page 2
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On the other hand, I don't think I can continue to ignore his presence. He's right there, lingering on the edge of my senses. If I don't go to him right now, then I might miss out on something I'll never find again.
I clench my hands into fists and level my gaze at him again. Before I can settle on a course of action, he turns and flees. As he disappears into the darkness, I once again become aware of the chill of the night air closing in around me.
3
Seth
I feel sick.
My limbs are heavy as I crawl out of bed the next morning. Everything aches, and I barely recognize my own reflection in the bathroom mirror. I didn't get much sleep after getting back to Omega House last night. I couldn't get that shadowy alpha, or the effect he had on me, out of my head. Every fiber of my being wanted to go to him.
Just thinking about it sends chills down my spine as I get ready to head downstairs for breakfast. Every single day, I work with omegas who have been battered and abused by alphas. Some of them just wound up mated to an asshole omega beater. Others were rounded up and forced to work in breeding stables. Still more, like my brother and I, just fell through the cracks of society and needed a safe place to land. It’s my background working here, with these omegas, that kept me from doing something utterly stupid last night.
I take a deep breath and check my reflection one last time before reaching for the blister pack of heat suppressants sitting on the edge of the sink. I've been taking these every day for the last couple of years to keep my heat cycle in check. It’s the best way to keep me from falling prey to my body's own urges. They've worked pretty well except for the few times when I’ve missed a pill or two. Which is why I don’t understand this nauseous feeling I’ve had since last night. I'm sure I took yesterday's pill, but given my reaction to that alpha last night, it's clear they aren't working right.
I grit my teeth and toss the rest of the package into the trash can. I'll have to pick up a better brand later today before my body jump starts my heat cycle. As long as I don't go gallivanting into the homes of any strange alphas, I should be fine for another day.
Downstairs, in the large dining room, omegas are gathered around the tables and chatting. Kids are running around, chasing one another and playing with their toys. Haggard parents are trying to get their offspring ready for school. Omega House employees and volunteers are serving breakfast and doing what they can to support the residents.
New faces arrive at Omega House every day, and old faces leave to move on with their lives. Familiar faces often come back as volunteers to give back to the place that helped them through tough times, but right now, I’m feeling kind of alone.
No one has been here as long as I have. I came here with my twin brother, Sean, when we were kids. Omega House got us off the streets, took care of us, gave us a place to call home, and when we got older, employed us in our first jobs. I owe everything I am to this place, and until recently, helping others has always been enough for me.
Then Sean went and got himself not one but two alphas. He's got twins of his own now, and the five of them are living in a nice house on the other side of town. I'm happy for him, I really am, but with him gone, there’s an emptiness inside me that wasn't there before. It's even more pronounced now as I get my breakfast and sit down at one of the tables on the far side of the room.
"What happened to texting me last night?" Jason seems annoyed as he drops into the chair across from me. There’s a scowl on his face as he jabs a finger into the table. "I was so worried about you that I came back from the club early to see if you were dead…only to find you fast asleep in your room."
"Sorry," I mutter, shaking my head apologetically. The encounter with the strange alpha had shaken me up so much that I completely forgot about my promise to Jason. "I just kinda got a little stuck in my head on the way back home."
"Dude, I'm worried about you." Jason shakes his head as he cuts into his pancakes. "You've been acting really weird ever since Sean's babies were born."
"I know." I can’t even look up at him, ashamed to admit I’m jealous of my brother. I'm painfully aware of just how out of sorts I've been lately, but I don't know how to fix myself.
"I think you just need to let off some steam." Jason raises a questioning eyebrow.
"That's what last night was supposed to be," I point out. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't text you last night, but I think I just need some time alone." I climb to my feet, carrying my plate with me. I haven't touched my breakfast, but I'm not exactly hungry. "I'm gonna go get a head start on my chores for today."
Jason frowns and looks up at me disapprovingly. "Seth…if you're not feeling well, you should go see a doctor. I can cover for you."
I shake my head and start walking. "No, really, I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I just need to take some time to get my head straight. It's not a big deal."
I leave without giving him a chance to say anything else. I know Jason's just looking out for me, but his concern is a little stifling sometimes. I already know what's wrong with me, and I don’t need a doctor giving me an official diagnosis for loneliness.
Ignoring the curious stares around me, I cross the dining room and make my way to the front office for Omega House. My job doesn't bring me in here often. I'm usually working outside or helping with new arrival orientations, stuff like that. But I caught up with most of my other work yesterday, so today, I'm going to empty the trash in the office, help sort the mail, and get some administrative work done.
When I open the office door, there's no one else inside. Everyone else is either at breakfast or they haven't arrived yet.
I sigh as I begin my chores and try to keep my mind busy. Unfortunately, my thoughts keep drifting back to my current mood and the situation I've trapped myself in.
The fact of the matter is, I don't want to work anywhere other than Omega House. I like it here, and I feel like the work I'm doing really makes a difference in the lives of the omegas who come here for sanctuary. But I've been here for a long time, and there's no sign that anything in my life is going to change any time soon.
My morning routine has been the same every single day for as far as I can remember. I get up, get dressed, take a suppressant, come down for breakfast, and then start my day. Until recently, I spent the mornings talking to my brother. For so long, everything I did was for Sean. While he was off attending college classes, I told myself I was keeping our spot here secure. Now that his life has taken him elsewhere, I feel like I've been knocked adrift.
I don't have any particular goals in life. No aspirations beyond what I'm already doing.
Part of me wants to eventually find an alpha and settle down, maybe even have some kids. But the rest of me worries that won't ever happen for me.
It’s like I'm treading water. Not moving forward, not moving backward, just existing for the sake of existing, and it kills me a little inside every day.
As I start sorting the mail, I notice a package sitting on the desk. The address on the label is clearly wrong, and there's a sticky note affixed to the outside of the box.
"Seth, could you please drop this off at the right address after you finish with the mail this morning? Thanks."
I slowly nod to myself as I remove the sticky note and toss it in the trash. I wasn't really looking forward to organizing the filing cabinets today anyway.
Picking up the box, I check the label and my blood runs cold when I notice the street address. It's the same neighborhood where I saw that alpha last night.
I double check to make sure. It's no wonder that the mailman got the addresses mixed up. A couple of transposed numbers could result in a simple mistake. There's no doubt now, however, that the box was intended for the street of old Victorian houses. I take a deep breath and prepare myself to face the… I don’t know. Enemy isn’t right but there’s something about that guy that makes my skin crawl.
But really, we get mail for houses from that street all the time. This is nothing out of the
ordinary. In fact, I've returned packages to their rightful owners many times. The only thing that's different today is the encounter I had last night. But what are the chances that this "Zachary Sanders" is the same guy?
Practically none.
I tentatively pick up the package and tuck it under my arm as I leave the office. My heart is hammering in my chest, but whether it's backed by fear or anticipation, I can't quite tell.
4
Zachary
I've got the thermostat cranked up to max and there's still frost on the windows. I can see my breath as I walk through the living room with a quilt wrapped around my shoulders. I checked on the furnace in the basement, and even though I don't know what I'm looking at, I'm pretty sure it's working. I get the feeling the archaic heating system hasn't been serviced in decades. Grandma was a bit tight with her money, so she probably held off on getting things like this fixed until they went out completely.
I pace across the living room and glance toward the fireplace. I've got plenty of wood stacked up beside the hearth, but truth be told, I've never actually built a fire before. It's a little daunting, and I'm not sure I'm willing to risk burning down my new home in order to chase away a little cold.
Pulling the quilt more tightly around my shoulders, I turn toward the long folding table that has been erected along one side of the living room. Several computers have been set up and their monitors are throwing back diagnostic readouts that scroll along the screen at a steady clip. At the other end of the table are several computers that have been disassembled. I build and repair computers for a number of different clients located across the country. Thanks to my knowledge of computer systems and software, I'm able to provide fast and reliable tech support for a few private businesses as well.
If I wanted to, I could probably expand and grab some larger and more lucrative contracts. I've been holding off on anything as aggressive as that though. My current setup is still a little too primitive to accommodate that level of service right now.
There's a groaning, skittering noise in the wall to my left, and I flinch away reflexively. As my foot touches the floor behind me, the lights overhead flicker. It feels like the temperature in the room is dropping by several degrees, and when I check the computer screens, the readouts have gone black, replaced by a series of numbers that scroll endlessly across the screen.
5374, 5374, 5374.
Over and over again without end.
My throat is tight as I force myself into action. The ancient wiring in the house is obviously protesting the excessive use. Plugging so many electronics into such an old electrical system must be too much for it to handle. I quickly begin manually shutting off computers, hoping that will cool everything down. I can't risk the data becoming corrupted. I can restart the diagnostics from scratch later. For now, I'm in damage control mode.
The lights overhead continue to flicker. The constant flashing is making me dizzy, and I have to pause twice to rest my eyes and stop my head from spinning.
I called an electrician this morning when none of the switches upstairs would work, but I had no idea it was this serious. I just hope they return my call soon.
Just as I get the last of the computers switched off, the lights finally stop flicking. Everything appears to be returning to normal, so I let out a sigh of relief. Of course, this sets me back a little. If I can't run multiple computers at once, it's going to take me a lot longer to get these computers fixed. I'll have to rig up some sort of system to speed things up a bit. Although, I’m not sure what as I glance at the disassembled computers and sigh.
I was hoping to get at least these orders finished and sent out today, but the package that was supposed to be waiting for me when I arrived wasn't here when I moved in. I called the post office, and they assured me it had been delivered. The only explanation I can think of is that it was stolen off the front porch before I got here.
Trying to hold back my frustration, I drop into my computer chair beside the table. I've been here less than twenty-four hours, and things are already off to a grand start. The slush fund I expected to use to spruce up the place is probably going to be blown on getting the electrical shit worked out. I'm beginning to wonder if my grandma's house is going to turn into a money pit.
Resigned to the fact that I need to reorder the stolen part, I pull out my phone and open up the Amazon app. Before I can even hit the Buy Now button, there's a knock on my front door.
The sound is like a gunshot in a nursing home and sends my heart right down to my toes. It’s got to be one of my new neighbors coming by to welcome me to the neighborhood. This is so not the right time for a visitor. I really don't want to talk to anyone. The thought of welcoming strangers into my new home, especially with this new batch of worries on my mind, makes my stomach turn.
But as much as I want to just stay in my chair and hope they go away, something tells me I need to open that door. It's an unsettling feeling, and given my track record this morning, I really don't want to invite any more misfortune into my life.
Pushing out of my chair, I climb to my feet and shuffle across the living room to the front door. As my fingers curl around the door knob, I feel a tingle of anticipation run down my spine. The sensation is familiar, but I can’t put my finger on when I’ve felt it before. At least not until the door is open, and I find myself face to face with a fiery little omega with defiant eyes.
I recognize him immediately—the omega from last night.
My anxiety shoots my heart through my skull, and I recoil slightly at the sight of him. I can feel the panic building within me, and I immediately reach for the door to shut it in his face. What the hell is he doing here right now?
The only thing that keeps me from withdrawing immediately is the package in his arms and the look in his eyes.
"So, I guess you're Zach, huh?" He shrugs as he looks down at the package he's carrying.
I nod dumbly, unable to speak as he thrusts the package toward me.
"This showed up at Omega House by mistake." He holds it in the air until I finally reach for the box. "My boss asked me to bring it by for you."
"Oh…" I look down at the box and am relieved to see it’s the one I’ve been waiting for. At least that mystery is solved.
"Right, well…enjoy your package," he says as my mind immediately rushes off to the dirtiest thing it can come up with.
I can feel my cheeks flush, and I look away quickly. This is just one of the many reasons I don't like talking to people. I have no idea what the correct response is here, so I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "You too."
The omega's eyes go wide with surprise, and I realize with horror what I just said.
"I mean…I don't…that's not…" I stumble over my words, trying to come up with a way to save the conversation.
Then he starts laughing. "Don't worry about it." His blue eyes seem to sparkle with his smile. "I needed a laugh this morning. It's been kind of a rough few weeks."
"Tell me about it." My response is easy, automatic, and comfortable. The initial panic I felt when I saw him has begun to subside, and there's a gentle tug in the pit of my stomach. A feeling that makes me want to spend more time with this omega. I don't know anything about him, but I can already tell that talking with him will be better than my morning has gone so far.
“So, um, I'm Zach, as you know…" I force myself to offer a friendly smile. My mother used to tell me that my smile was weak and looked like a noodle had sex with a deflated balloon, so I've always been self-conscious about it. I want to ask for his name, but I can't think of a way to do it that doesn't sound creepy.
“Seth.” He extends his right hand toward me. “Seth Davis. I work at Omega House just up the road."
My eyes lock on his hand while my brain tries to catch up. A handshake. Got it. I can do this.
As my fingers close around his, I feel like my skin's been set on fire. Searing heat spreads through my hand and up my arm, catching me by surprise. He must fee
l it too because he flinches slightly. Despite the suddenness of it, there's no pain. Instead, it feels right somehow. Like a soothing embrace or the satisfaction that comes when you fit the final piece into a jigsaw puzzle.
Seth looks up at me but quickly averts his gaze as he withdraws his hand. "I should probably get back—"
"Would you like some coffee—"
We both start and stop at the same time, masking the awkwardness of the moment with an uncomfortable laugh.
There's something crackling in the air between us. An electric sensation that I can't ignore is traveling up and down my spine. It's almost like the strange feeling from last night but more intense. My brain is running circles as it creates pictures of all the things I want to do with him, and to him. Some small part of me is trying to remind me that I don't actually have the time or energy for a relationship right now.
The rest of me doesn't care.
He turns fully toward me. "Coffee sounds nice. May I come in?"
I hold my breath and step aside, gesturing for him to enter. "Be my guest."
5
Seth
My mind is reeling as I accept Zach's offer and step through the doorway.
The first thing I notice is the bone chilling cold inside the house. That explains why he has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders despite wearing a hoodie, pajama pants, and slippers.
He's nothing like what I expected when I knocked on his front door. His silhouette didn't give me much to go on last night, but judging from his height and build, I'd imagined something much more elegant than what I was now faced with. Not that he isn't hot. There's a definite roguish sexiness that's highlighted by his casual attire. However, I do find myself wondering what he'd look like if he actually put some effort into his appearance.