16. Everett

EVERETT

Everett had been here before.

“Here” being omega courtship.

Her name was Emma and their meeting was utterly magical, lifted straight out of a film. It was a few weeks before Christmas, in the chaos of a department store. They both reached for the last shaving gift set, their hands touching.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. Go ahead,” she said, demurely. “I can get my brother something else.” Her eyes flicked quickly over to the alpha chaperoning her from a distance.

“No, it’s yours. I insist.” Everett scratched his chin, ruefully. “My prime will hate whatever I get him anyway.”

She giggled, covering her mouth politely with dainty fingers. “I can’t imagine anyone being disappointed in you.” Her gaze drifted purposefully over him, evaluating his towering height and the wide breadth of his shoulders. “Or that you’re not the prime yourself,” she added, her rose and botanical scent flourishing and making his head spin.

Scent match.

Her fingers casually swept across her low neckline as she tossed her fiery red hair over her shoulder and left Everett unable to focus on anything else.

Emma was spellbinding and the whirlwind dates that followed, a dream. Everett left each interaction dreaming of flower gardens, and every night jerking off to the thought of her huge tits and impossibly lush curves. After the disasters at NOC’s galas, Everett was so sure he had managed to do the impossible — serendipitously find the perfect omega. He eventually helped her ease her heat and knew he wanted to do it for her for the rest of their lives.

Things moved fast but it was because they were right.

Until he brought Emma home. The questions were innocuous at first. How long had Isaac and Miles been together? Then they grew pointed. Was it weird having a beta in their pack? Did he know that packs were traditionally comprised solely of alphas? Would Miles leave if Isaac got an omega? When he finally asked outright if she had an issue with Isaac and Miles, she simply said “I just think an omega should be the centre of a pack.”

Nothing got past Isaac Rivera, so Everett was hardly surprised when he got pulled aside for a talk.

“If she’s your omega and you want to leave to be with her, we understand.”

Everett lashed out immediately, unable to deal with being pulled in two different directions. “So what, I’ve found my omega so you don’t want me in your pack anymore, is that it?” he blustered.

Isaac saw right through him, the way he always did. “You know that’s not what I’m saying. That’s beneath you. Beneath us.” Everett couldn’t look him in the eye, thoroughly reprimanded.

When he had been adopted into the Rivera pack at the age of 13 (orphaned, mad at the world and no idea he was on the cusp of the biggest growth spurt of his life), he and Isaac got into a fist-fight almost immediately. He could still see the holes in the wall because of their Dad’s shitty plastering job.

The fights continued almost daily, their relationship like kindling and any perceived slight, the match. After one particularly brutal bout left Isaac bleeding from the scalp, Everett demanded to know why Isaac hadn’t made his parents kick him out yet. 15 year old Isaac replied, blood running into his eyes and a voice like thunder to Everett’s young ears. “We could beat each other up every fucking day of our lives and you’d still be my brother. See you tomorrow, asshole.”

That’s when Everett knew Isaac was his prime.

Everett’s indecision ruined New Year’s Eve. He brought Emma and she was horrifically rude towards Isaac and Miles’ displays of affection. He hated it. Hated it so much bile rose up in his throat. How could she be so cruel? This wasn’t the Emma he knew and he couldn’t reconcile the omega he’d laughed with and held in bed with this twisted one.

Everett asked her to leave and she appeared in Page Slickless than two months later bonded to a traditional, heteronormative alpha-only pack. It had been short-lived beta hookups only for Everett since then.

This time around with Juno, it was different. It was worse.

She came to them through the National Omega Commission, just like most omegas matched with packs these days. Though she’d triggered his protective instincts like crazy, he knew that was more because of what she’d survived rather than any sort of fortuitous connection. They were certainly not a scent match the way he and Emma were. He’d fucked up their introduction and wasn’t sure if she even liked him. Having gotten used to women being drawn to him, his hubris had been thoroughly punctured this time round.

He felt truly out of his depth.

And now he had to take her on a date.

* * *

They were at a food truck park, surrounded by delicious aromas, pretty lights and live music. None of it mattered though, because Everett had found a way to make every conversation starter come to a screeching halt.

“Do you come here often?”

“Nah.”

“How’d you hear about this place? I love the vibe.”

“Oh just…around.”

“Well, what do you feel like eating?”

“Whatever you want.”

It was a gift, really.

Understandably frustrated, Juno stood up, peering at each truck’s signage trying to get a better look.

“Why don’t we get a bunch of stuff to try from different trucks and meet back here?”

“No.” Juno winced at his sharp tone and Everett regretted his hasty reaction immediately. “I mean, I don’t want to leave you alone. It’s not safe.”

She looked at him like he was crazy. He was crazy. “It’s a weeknight, there’s not that many people around. It’ll be fine.”

How was he supposed to explain that letting her wander around alone, talking to strange vendors, was going against every alpha instinct in his body? Why had he picked this venue? He saw that it was dog friendly and thought Juno might think that was cute. Never mind that the logistics of actually getting food was sending his blood pressure through the roof. Also, there was only one dog here at the moment and it was a psycho yappy one.

He was being insane and unreasonable and he knew it. But he needed her to be safe. So he sat there, unable to answer her while the silence stretched between them.

“Scent mark me.”

Everett stared at the defiant lift of her chin. “What?”

“Scent mark me. If it’ll make you feel better. Then we’ll go off separately, order a bunch of stuff, bring back all those pager things that light up and buzz when your order’s ready and you can go fetch them while I sit riiiight here so you can see me the whole time.”

She was a bloody saint for tolerating him.

“You don’t…think I’m being unreasonable?” Everett hedged and she looked up at the sky, muttering something about murdering him not being worth the jail time.

“Of course you’re being unreasonable,” she said when she’d decided to let him live. “But I can tell it’s important to you and it doesn’t really cost me anything to do it so…come on. Scent mark me.” Juno had her hands planted squarely on her hips. Everett wondered how quickly her bravado would melt if he kissed that insolent little pout off her lips.

Ok, that was a thought he definitely needed to keep locked up. She already thought he was irrational. No need to add lecherous to the list too.

He stood up, their height difference growing more and more apparent as he towered over her. Juno held his gaze obstinately the whole time. Slowly, deliberately, he slid his hand along the curve of her jaw until his fingers tangled in her hair. His thumb found the base of her chin, turning her face slightly. Cheek against cheek, coarse stubble against satin skin; eucalyptus, stone-fruit and a deep inhale.

It was a mistake because he was ensnared. A freshly plucked peach, teeth breaking through velvet to consume the sweet, tart flesh. A bond, a covenant, a promised thread connecting two souls. Juicy slick running down a shaking thigh, begging for his tongue.

What the fuck.That was not how he reacted the first or second time to her scent. But this time it was so vivid, it felt like a memory.

Or a premonition.

Everett pulled back abruptly. “That should do it,” he said gruffly, with a slight shake of his head as he tried to clear the haze.

“Ok,” Juno replied, brightly. “I’m going to get satay skewers! Ooh, I wonder if I can ask for extra peanut sauce…”

He watched her bound away, completely unaware of the rattled alpha she’d left behind.

* * *

Juno had her chin resting on her hands, palms flat down on the table as she stared at the huge stack of pagers they had accumulated. Her face was so close she was going cross-eyed.

“Do you even remember which pager goes with which truck?”

She gave Everett a narrow glare and pointed at each pager.

“Souvlakis, dumplings, skewers, loaded fries, and lobster rolls,” she rattled off without a single pause. She then flexed claw-like fingers while grinning maniacally, and gnashed her teeth like a gremlin. Everett was a little turned on and decided he needed his head examined.

Loaded fries began vibrating madly, causing the entire stack to collapse and eliciting an excited squeal from Juno. “Go, go, go!” she flapped her hands at him urgently.

Soon they were surrounded by what could only be described as a blasphemous amount of food for two people. Everett had managed to remember how to converse like an actual human being as well, so things were looking up.

“So you’re technically cousins.”

“Yes.”

Everett was explaining how he came to be adopted by Isaac and Ollie’s family. After his alpha father and beta mother tragically passed away in a fatal car accident, the Rivera pack took him in straight away. His uncle — dad’s brother — was one of his Nanay’s bonded alphas.

“Mum’s my mum but my Nanay is too.” He felt exposed but Juno had nothing but soft encouragement in her expression, like she understood how his heart could hold space for two different mothers. “But with my Uncle, I still call him that even though he’s been a dad to me for longer than my actual Dad. But I think we both prefer it that way, ’cause it’s like we’re…” Everett struggled momentarily to explain.

“Honouring him. Remembering him.” Juno finished with a nod. “I get it. I think that’s admirable. And obviously works for you both.” This was far from his favourite topic but Juno had a way of making him feel reassured.

“That’s also why Isaac hyphenated our pack name.” Everett felt his neck grow hot. “Even though I’m not the prime,” he mumbled.

“I was wondering about that,” Juno commented. If she was aware of his nerves she didn’t show it. “I think pack name traditions are overrated. Let people decide what fits them best.”

She smiled, all grace and light.

They had made a truly impressive dent in the mountain of food when both their forks speared the last dumpling at the same time. Juno whipped her head up, game face on.

“Tell me why I should let you have this.”

Everett threw his head back with an incredulous laugh. “I’m sorry, let me?”

“You heard me.”

“Don’t tell me you’re pulling the I’m an omega, I should have it card.”

“As if you weren’t just about to pull the I’m an alpha, I’m so big and strong, need more food card!” She bashed an unwieldy fist on the table and clearly thought he was some sort of cave-dwelling barbarian.

“I am big and strong,” Everett mumbled under his breath.

Juno pressed a fingertip into the dumpling. “You should hurry, it’s getting cold.”

“Did you just touch my dumpling?” he asked incredulously.

“No, of course not. I touched my dumpling.”

His eyes narrowed before he carefully sliced it in half with the side of his fork. Without breaking eye contact, he speared one piece and ate it.

“Ok, Solomon,” she grinned before popping her half into her mouth.

God, he was having fun. When did that happen?

They cleared their table of baskets and wrappers and made their way over to the bar for one last drink. A coke for him because he was driving and some sort of fruity concoction for her that the bartender slid over with a for you, darling, setting off Everett’s growl.

“I’m sorry,” Juno apologised breezily to the bartender, who Everett had only just registered was busy undressing him with his eyes. “It’s his first day in modern human society.”

He had a flash of her on her knees as he fed his cock into that bratty mouth.

“I like your tattoos, by the way,” she said, sipping on her drink with plump, rosy lips. “Name the most painful spot to get inked — go.”

Demanding little creature. He pulled up the hem of his shirt, showcasing the nightmarish kraken coiled around a trapped ship adorning his ribs. It also conveniently displayed the cut lines of hard muscle on his abdomen.

Juno bent down to get a closer look. Can’t resist, can you? Soon you won’t just be looking, but touching and licking, right before you—

“Oh, that’s really lovely work.”

Everett pulled his shirt back down with an agitated tug.

Juno caressed the spider at her throat. “I think it’s worse here, though.”

“You got a tattoo on your ribcage, baby?” He would later wonder where the hell that baby came from but right now he was enjoying the thought of riling her up too much.

“Well, no but—”

“Then you can’t really argue, can you?”

“Same goes for you, technically,” Juno sniped back, gesturing at his bare neck.

“I’m actually getting one there soon,” he replied blithely, “So don’t worry, I’ll know for sure that I’m right.”

“Oh are you now.”

“Fuck yeah,” he asserted, lying through his teeth. Why did this feel like foreplay?

“What are you going to get, since you’ve clearly been planning this for a whole 12 seconds.”

“Just a middle finger, flipping you off.” Everett positioned his hand carefully so she could get a proper visual.

She burst out laughing and it sent a frisson of pleasure through his gut. “I think you would somehow pull that off,” she conceded.

Everett pulled his left sleeve up slightly, and flexed his bicep. But only because his spider tattoo was on it and that was the best way to show her. “We can fight over who has the best spider though, if you want.”

Juno ran her fingers over it and Everett felt pinned by her gentle touch. “No fair,” she pouted. “Yours has a rose for a body. It’s beautiful.”

It was his Emma tattoo, the harsh reminder that things in pretty packages could be deadly. But right now, staring at Juno with her morbid ink and amused irreverence was somehow more dangerous. He wanted to know what she looked and sounded like when he finally pushed his knot into her slick, hot pussy. Locked together, fingernails digging into his ass, begging for his bite while he filled her over and over with his seed.

Branding her.

Marking her.

Claiming her.

He met her cat-like gaze with his own, burning up from the inside out.