Chapter 10 In which I get a glimpse of what it would be like to belong to an alpha

Logan and I leave the penthouse amidst warnings from Maddox to not be gone too long. Apparently, the redhead has ‘better fucking things to do’ than making sure I don’t get pregnant. Which, you know, fair. But also, fuck him.

They’re the ones that insisted I need a chaperone. I wanted to come alone in the first place.

Alas, that is not to be.

When we step onto the street, Logan glances round, like he’s checking for danger or something. He apparently finds none, because he jerks his chin to the left. “There’s a drugstore a few blocks that way.”

I nod, having already searched the area on my phone, and start in that direction. He easily keeps pace with me, his long legs eating up the distance much faster than mine. I’m not short, or at least, not as short as most omegas I’ve seen, but I am short compared to him.

I think most people are, though. The man is a giant. They all are. It makes me feel tiny in comparison.

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “How are you doing?”

“Doing?”

“With all this.” He waves a hand in front of him, like that will be enough to encapsulate this entire fucked up situation.

It falls dramatically short. “Oh, just fine. Totally great actually. I love having my body suddenly be a completely foreign thing to me. I love having all these new instincts I don’t understand. It’s great to be wet literally all the fucking time just because you smell so goddamn good.”

He growls and pulls me to a stop with a hand wrapped around my upper arm. His green eyes blaze down at me. “Maybe don’t talk about your slick while we’re in public, hmm? Alpha instincts and all that.”

I don’t know what he means by that, but the intensity of his gaze has me nodding in agreement. Half his mouth curls into a smile and he uses his grip to tug me into his body, curling an arm around my shoulders, before he slides a huge palm down my spine and to the small of my back to urge me forward again.

I’ve never had someone do this for me. I always thought it would be kind of weird, you know? The big strong man guiding the silly little female as though she can’t navigate the street on her own. But this feels… right. So fucking right. I don’t really have to do much, but put one foot in front of the other and Logan nudges me this way or that, guiding me around obstacles and people. All I have to do is trust him.

It’s weird that I do.

You don’t have to tell me that.

Even so, I lean into him, following his lead, looking around at the buildings and the people rather than where we’re going.

Logan all but snarls when someone bumps into me, tugging me tighter into his body with one arm while the other shoots out to shove the person back more.

“Oh, I’m so sorry-” The familiar voice cuts off. “Sadie cakes?”

My eyes slip closed for a beat, two, and then I force a smile to my lips that is fake as hell and open them. “Dr. Schwab. Hi!”

The older man looks down at me, familiar eyes shining bright. “Look at you! You look like you’re doing well!”

I nod and smile up at him. “I am.” But mostly because I stopped taking the medication you told me I would need to take for the rest of my life. “Really well.”

Logan shifts next to me, drawing my attention to him, as his thumb sweeps back and forth over the exposed skin of my upper arm. “Oh, sorry Logan, this is Dr. Schwab-”

“I’ve told you to call me Dalton, Sadie,” he admonishes gently. “You’re all grown up and no longer my patient.”

My smile grows tense and I glance up at Logan to see how he takes this news, but his green eyes are narrowed on the older man. “Dr. Schwab was my doctor when I was a kid.” I squeeze Logan’s waist gently, and he glances down at me. “Dr. Schwab, this is Logan-”

“Dr. Logan Falcone,” he cuts me off and my mouth snaps shut in surprise. I didn’t know Logan was a doctor. But then, I guess I don’t know anything about any of the members of the pack I’m bonded into, other than what’s been told in the media. “Sadie’s alpha. Well, one of them.”

Dr. Schwab’s brows arch high on his forehead. “Falcone you say?” His faded blue eyes skirt over to me. “What have you gotten yourself into, Sadie cakes?” He shakes his head sadly. “After all the trouble we went through to get you to a place of healing, you’re throwing it away on a pack that-”

He cuts off, glancing uncomfortably at Logan who’s watching him with that same narrow-eyed glare and a promise of violence in every line of his face. “Oh, don’t stop on my account. Please continue. A pack that what, Dr. Schwab? What exactly do you think my omega has gotten herself into?”

A startled sound leaves my old physician and his eyes widen even further, but this time not with concern, with surprise. “You’re an omega?”

Is it weird that he sounds excited by the prospect? It is, right? He shouldn’t care if I am or not. But the way his eyes light up and he’s suddenly huffing the air around me like he’s trying to catch my scent has me thinking this matters to him. I have no clue why.

I shift closer to Logan unconsciously, letting his bourbon and butterscotch scent soothe me, calm me, even as Dr. Schwab’s eyes run over me hungrily. Not sexually, but similar to how Logan looked at me last night, like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to figure out.

A warning growl erupts from Logan, and the older man’s eyes fly to meet his. “And you’re her alpha? Her scent match, I would presume? When did this happen? How long have you been an omega? How long have you been mated?”

The more questions he lobs at me, the more uncomfortable I get. Logan’s hand slides from around my shoulders until his palm is resting at the nape of my neck, his thumb stroking gently over my pulse point, grounding my omega, slowing my heart rate. “None of that is any of your concern,” he says simply. “You are making my omega uncomfortable and if you don’t stop, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.” A tiny smile curls the corners of his lips. “I might be a doctor, but that just means I know how to inflict the most pain while keeping someone alive.”

I shiver, and I wish I could say it’s because the threat in his voice worried me, but really it’s because I’m fucking turned on. There is something wrong with me. Logan’s thumb presses into the flutter in my neck harder before he turns and dusts a kiss over my temple, his cheek sliding along mine.

Scent marking me.

He’s marking me right here on the street in public, in front of the doctor who said I would be sick all my life. Who warned me that because I was sick, I might not have normal healthy romantic and sexual relationships.

Dr. Schwab blinks and then smiles. “Oh, yes, of course. You understand its professional curiosity. It’s rare we see an omega present so late in life.” His watery eyes look at me. “If you’re looking for a doctor that specializes in omega physiology, I’d be happy to recommend some in the area.”

Logan pulls me closer, though I don’t really know how, since I’m already pressed to his side from ankle to shoulder. He finds the space and eradicates it. “I think I can take care of my omega.”

There he goes again, calling me his omega. I don’t think I can actually handle it, handle him, handle this claiming. I’m desperately trying to keep my head—the one that has been beta for all of my life—and to not read too much into this. It has to be alpha posturing. Logan doesn’t know me. He doesn’t actually want me. Even if… even if a part of me already feels like he’s mine, too.

Dr. Schwab’s smile falters the slightest bit. “Oh, yes, of course. Of course. I didn’t mean to overstep. I only thought…” He gives me a soft smile, the one I remember from when I was a child. “It must be so confusing to you. I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

I nod. “I do. But one of my best friends is an omega. I can ask her whatever I need to know.” Though Sylvie’s experience is anything but normal. But then… mine isn’t either. Also, things like the internet exist and bookstores with a million books about being an omega.

I’m sure I can figure it out on my own.

After spending so much time with this man in his doctor’s office while growing up, I try to limit the number of visits I make now. As in, I put off my yearly check ups until they’re basically year and a half check ups.

To go in for something like this, unrelated to my illness? Yeah, no thanks, I’ll pass.

I give him a strained smile. Logan notices because he pulls me even closer, like he’s trying to absorb me into his body. We’re basically the same person now. “Well, it was nice to see you, Dr. Schwab.” Lies. “But we’ve got to get going.”

The doctor opens his mouth like he’s going to say something more, protest or try to convince me to make an appointment, but I don’t give him a chance. I lace my fingers through Logan’s and pull him down the street, away from the doctor that spent too many years making me feel sick.

“If you change your mind,” Dr. Schwab calls after me. “You know where to find me.”

I wave over my shoulder without looking back, and resist the urge to flip him the middle finger while I do. That would definitely make Logan have more questions. When we’ve gone a block, I try to untangle my fingers from the alpha who is now keeping pace with me.

He doesn’t let me go.

We’ve gone another block, and the crowd has swallowed up Dr. Schwab. I can feel Logan watching me, can feel his question burning the tip of his tongue. I’m surprised that he hasn’t asked them yet, hasn’t forced me to answer, to tell him. His professional curiosity must be killing him.

“Don’t,” I say, cutting off any attempts to question me at the same time my eye snags on a window display of an omega’s nest. It’s pink and frilly, with cream and purple accents. Fairy lights drape the ceiling and something soft covers every single inch of space, from the velvet cushions lining the walls to the floor level mattress. There’s a shelf of blankets and pillows on one side, just waiting to be included, woven into the existing soft goods.

I’ve never been a pink girl. Never really been a bright colors kind of girl beyond the red lipstick I slather on my lips every morning to make myself feel bold and pretty. That’s Sorrel. She loves everything bright and cheerful and she would probably love this display, even though she’s not an omega.

Yeah, pink and frilly isn’t really my vibe, but something pangs in my chest at the sight of that fake nest. Something awful close to longing. It aches in my little omega heart.

“Do you want to go in?” Logan asks, sounding hesitant and hopeful all at once. “We have a nest at the penthouse. It’s… well, it’s basically empty. But we could buy some things for you to make it your own.”

I twist my head to look up at him. “You have a nest?”

Half his mouth curves into a smile. “Of course we do.”

I don’t return the expression. “You have a nest and yet I spent last night in a closet?”

His half grin falls. I don’t wait for him to give me an excuse. Maddox doesn’t want me. They don’t actually want me. Well, maybe Swift does, but I put a stop to that last night. I mean, he couldn’t even stay until I woke up this morning.

Even though I know it’s a bad idea, I make my way to the entrance of Nests, Heats and Beyond and step inside. Such a bad idea. I’m not going to get a nest, not with the Falcone pack. They don’t want me. My bond with Luca will fade and then we’ll go our separate ways.

But there’s no law that says I can’t buy a bunch of shit and pack it home with me, turn my little loft bedroom into a nest all on my own. It won’t hurt to figure out what I like.

“Sadie,” Logan says, like he’s trying to get my attention, and I don’t know if it’s to do with my illness or the sleeping arrangements last night, but either way, I don’t want to hear it.

The sleeping arrangements… I’m not sure why that bothers me so much when I don’t even want their nest. Not really. I’m not even sure I want them. So having a conversation about it with him seems pointless.

And my illness… Well, that’s not really any of his business, is it?

“You can go,” I say, not turning to look at him, focusing on the display of blankets right at the front of the store, fingers soothing over the fabric.

“Go?”

“Yeah,” I say, trailing my fingers over them as I head to the right and the nest display there, emerald green and gold, deep and dark and moody, much more along the lines of what I’d like. “You don’t need to follow me around while I window shop. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

“Better things than watching my omega pick out things for her nest?” He says, sounding as though it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard.

“Not your omega,” I say, more out of habit than anything. Or denial , more like.

“I’m fine here,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest like he’s settling in for an argument, like he’s expecting it. I look around the store, gaze catching on items here and there that I want to touch, want to examine, want to fucking buy, but I don’t want to do any of that while he’s here. The last thing I want is for him to feel obligated to purchase anything for me, especially since I know this is going to end with them not wanting me.

If I get attached to anything in this store and then I have to leave it with them, I think it might break my newly minted omega heart.

I sigh and run a weary hand down my face. “Fine. Let’s just go.”

“Sadie, we can stay. You want to stay.” Logan sounds so sure of that, like he knows me better than I know myself after knowing me for twelve hours, after not even having a full conversation.

“I don’t want to stay.” I grouse, folding my arms over my chest and stomping toward the exit, like a freaking toddler. But what do you want from me? I’m feeling way more emotional than normal, way more sensitive. Stupid omega hormones. I hate them.

Logan trails after me, not tucking me into his side like he’d done before. And that makes my crazy emotions even freaking worse. I lengthen my strides and keep my chin up as I stride through the crowds.

I stomp into the drugstore, make a beeline for the aisle with the contraceptives and then grab the first morning after pill I can find. It also happens to be the cheapest. Logan had been content to follow in my irritated wake, but here he latches a hand onto my wrist and removes the box from my fingers.

I scowl at him, but he just places it back down and picks up the one next to it. “This pill has had fewer reports of side effects on omegas.” It also is the more expensive one. But that isn’t why I’m staring at him.

He did research on the best morning after pills? When? And why?

Was it before today?

I shake my head at myself. Of course it was before today. They’ve probably had to make this trip a million times with other girls that they’ve brought home and fucked raw. I’m surprised they don’t just have a stockpile of them in their penthouse.

Maybe they did, and they’re just out of them now because they use them so frequently.

My scowl deepens. Logan doesn’t notice because he’s too busy scooping four more boxes of the pill into his arms. He hesitates and then adds two more. When he notices my scowl, he gives me a rueful smile. “Its just in case. I want to do some research on what birth control is best for you, for omegas. And these should tie us over in the meantime.”

I arch a brow. “I think you’re being very optimistic about your chances of getting laid, Logan. You don’t want to get all cocky and make assumptions, do you?”

“Is it being cocky if it’s true?”

I blink after him as he strides up to the checkout counter. I stomp after him. “Excuse me?” I whisper-shout at him. “I am not sleeping with you or any members of your pack anytime soon.”

He glances at me, then steps into the line. “You revealed as an omega at twenty-five, Sadie. Most people who do that have their first heat within a month, some as early as two weeks.”

I know this. Luca so rudely pointed it out to me last night. “But that doesn’t mean I have to fuck you.”

He turns his head and pins me with a look, his jaw hardening for just a moment before he softens. “You’re right, it doesn’t. What it means is that you will beg us for our cocks, for our knots and our cum. You’ll be in pain, mo chuisle . And that, more than anything, will drive us to take care of you, to ease you.”

I fold my arms over my chest and tip my chin up. I know, logically, that everything he’s saying is true. And I also know, logically, that I won’t find anyone more appealing to me than this pack because as crazy as it sounds, they are my scent matches. But I still meet his eyes and say, “I can find another pack to help me. I’ve had plenty of alphas-”

Logan’s hand whips out and curls around the front of my throat, not tight, but claiming, showing me and everyone around us who I belong to. He pulls me closer gently, carefully, until I’m pressed nearly to his entire body. His hand slides from the front of my neck to the back, thumb pressing into my pulse point.

His head dips until his lips press against the shell of my ear. “Do not make the mistake of thinking that just because I wear cardigans and glasses, I am soft, omega. I am not soft. I am your scent match. Yours. And you are mine. And there isn’t an alpha in their right mind who would be okay hearing how their scent match fucked other alphas, or is making plans to fuck other packs.” His thumb strokes over my pulse while his fingers tighten. “If your heat comes, we will help you through it, or we will medically sedate you so you can sleep through the whole thing. Is that clear?”

A large part of me wants to argue, to tell him he’s not the boss of me—mature, right?—and stomp away in a huff. But an even larger part, my newly discovered omega part with her hussy of a vagina, is so freaking turned on right now. I guess I love this dominating alpha growly bit that he’s doing, and I had no freaking idea.

The other alphas I’ve been with have been confident and cocky, but not as domineering and possessive as this. They were happy enough for me to take the lead so long as they were getting their dick wet, with the few exceptions being when they wanted to play alpha/omega. Same goes for the betas I’ve been with.

“I asked you a question, omega,” Logan growls against my ear before nipping the flesh with his teeth.

A squeak erupts out of me along with a waft of perfume… which can I just say I hate? Because now Logan and the elderly beta in front of us, and the dude behind the counter and probably that mother with her kid over by the candy all know that I’m turned on right now.

Fuck. “I need scent cancelers,” I murmur, more to myself than to Logan, but he yanks back to glare down at me.

“No, you don’t. You smell fucking divine.” The rumble of his voice and the heat in his eyes tell me he really means that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m uncomfortable.

“I’m not used to projecting how I’m feeling through my scent, Logan. I can’t say that I like it. It makes me feel… vulnerable.”

His expression softens again, and he nods. “Okay, fair. We can place an order with IndulgScents when we get back to the penthouse. They have the best cancellers out there.”

I could just run and grab a bottle of the cheap stuff here, but he’s right that IndulgScents has the best products for hiding and enhancing our natural perfumes. Or at least that’s what I’ve heard. As a beta, I had no real use for that.

I nod my agreement as the guy behind the counter clears his throat. “Next.”

Logan pulls his gaze and his hand away from me, and I’m left feeling strangely bereft. Like I feel whole with him touching me, looking at me. Isn’t that a terrifying thought? That without him, without them, I’m not a complete person? How do other omegas handle this shit? How does Sylvie manage to walk around with parts of her missing?

How have I missed that after years of friendship?

I should call her.

Talk to her.

Make sure she’s doing okay. Because she’s dealt with this feeling for seven years and I’ve only had to deal with it for seven seconds and I already want to fall apart.

Suck it up, Sade. I mentally hiss at myself. This won’t last. They don’t want you. It’s becoming more and more clear. If they want me, it’s only their alpha instincts. Hadn’t Logan just said there is no alpha in their right mind who could listen to their scent match talk about fucking someone else?

It’s the scent match, the instincts and nothing more. When they get to know me, they’ll realize… they don’t actually want me.

And that’s what I want, right?

Right?

Resolve hardened, I snatch up the bag as the man behind the counter takes Logan’s credit card and head for the door, not bothering to wait. I hear Logan curse, but he’s stuck where he is for the moment, and thank god for that, I need a break.

Which directly opposes how I felt last night and this morning when I woke up, where I was bemoaning the fact that I was alone. Stupid omega instincts.

I smell him before I see him, that butterscotch bourbon hitting my nostrils and chasing away the scent of the dirty street and too many people. His hand touches the base of my spine gently, but he doesn’t chide me for leaving the drug store unattended, so I guess that’s a good thing.

“You know there’s no guarantee I’ll even have a heat like a normal omega,” I say, not looking up at him, even though a part of me really wants to check him out again. His dark red hair, his light green eyes behind those glasses.

“Why do you say that?” I give a noncommittal shrug and pick up my pace. The sooner I can take this pill, the better. I should have grabbed a bottle of water from the store. Stupid alpha distracting me.

“Sadie,” he insists as we reach the block where their apartment is. “Why do you say that?”

I shrug again. “I wasn’t exactly a normal, healthy beta. It’s crazy to think I would be a normal, healthy omega.”

He frowns and guides me to the private elevator. The one no one else who lives in the building can use. “What do you mean, you aren’t normal? Does this have to do with the man we ran into today? The Doctor?”

I don’t say anything as the elevator rises. “Omega, answer me.”

The tone is demanding, but there’s no alpha bark in it, so it’s easy enough for me to shake it off. “Its nothing, Logan,” I say, more to nip this in the bud than anything.

“It’s not nothing if you think it means you aren’t healthy. I’m a doctor, Sadie. Tell me what I need to know.” I clamp my lips around the words. I don’t enjoy talking about being sick as a child, because once they find out, people look at you differently, like you’re weaker, more fragile. Inevitably, it means they treat you differently too. Usually, it’s a lot of checking how I’m feeling, watching me for any sign of relapse.

I can feel Logan’s stare on the side of my face, but I don’t look at him as he slowly says, “he said you’d worked hard to get healthy for years. What does that mean, Sadie?”

I glance at him, but the elevator doors ding and slide open and I take the out while I can, rushing from the lift.

But something tells me he won’t let this slide.