28. Amaya

28

AMAYA

I think I've settled enough because I'm pretty sure I've made a little nest. It's not great by any means—my omega growls in my head—but it's something .

I have three soft pillows, one behind me and the others cocooning me on my sides. The sheet I've been dragging around for six days is the main steeple of my cozy spot, since Vincent has made a point to snuggle in it with me the past few days.

‘ Yes, mate .’

I think my omega is resulting to cavewoman speak since I've relaxed on the wall keeping us separate. Except, I'm not sure this isn't us being separate . Should I be hearing her?

‘ Nest .’

"I know it's our nest," I huff and tuck one of Vincent's shirts into the crack of the couch beside my face.

‘ Sniff.’

"Stop. I know. Why do you think I put it there?" I question in exasperation only for frustration to take its place. It's not good enough, so much is missing, but I can't fucking figure it out.

‘ Mate.’

Not to fucking mention I'm a freak who converses with herself. Make no mistake, my omega should not be a separate entity from me, but nothing I'm doing is working. Nothing!

‘ Mate.’

"I'm going to scream, Amy!" I warn, flinging myself from the couch and stomping.

Yes, I named my omega the nickname that drives me up the wall. It suits her. Vincent told me to listen to my instincts, but they're a broken fucking record!

"Mate, mate, mate, she says. Sniff she says," I growl low, glaring at my sheet, blanket and three pillows like they are supposed to solve all my issues.

‘ Yes.’

I throw my hands in the air, feeling like I'm dealing with a petulant child. "That helps me in no way."

Ding dong.

Feeling a little unhinged, I joke to the voice in my head, "Let me do the talking." I snort like a crazy lady and open the front door.

On my porch stands Vincent, who I'm not surprised to see, but next to him is my—is Paul.

‘Snow ,’ my omega says like I didn't already know our scents mix like a family would. He is my dad after all, even if he doesn't want to be.

That reminds me. "Hello?"

Instead of replying with a normal response, Paul glares at Vincent. "Did you know he was out here sleeping on your porch?"

"You talking to me or to Amaya?" Vincent drawls with an eyebrow raised.

I roll my eyes and walk away with the door open so they can follow. "No, I didn't know he was doing that. Vince, why are you sleeping on my porch?" I fake my curiosity, not well I might add. I'm too wrapped up in my previous argument with myself.

My skin itches to go back to my makeshift nest and try to fix it; instead I lead us to the kitchen island where I hop onto the counter.

Vincent snorts and shakes his head. "Feeling a bit testy today, little mate?"

My focus is all on him even as Paul's choked gasp threatens to steal my attention. Like I'm all he sees as well, Vincent rounds the island and steps between my thighs.

"I've been getting here early just in case you wake up needing me, that's all. And just being near you calms me."

I jolt back, surprised at his admittance. "Why didn't you knock or text me you were here?"

He shrugs while the pads of his fingers tickle up and down my bare arms effectively and finally making my omega chill the fuck out. "You didn't need me."

I scowl. I scowl hard . "For your information, I've been arguing with my omega out loud for an hour now. Next time, knock on the damn door," I scold and shove him a little.

Paul clears his throat. "Mate?" he croaks. We both look over at him and nod. He pales and narrows his eyes on Vincent all at once. "We'll be having a conversation."

"Sure," Vincent says, not a lick of respect in his tone before marking my cheek with his scent.

I nudge my mate away and turn to face Paul better. "What brings you here, Paul?"

He flinches, and it’s impossible not to feel bad, but we still haven't had our own conversation, which is partially my fault. I can't say he's the adult so he should approach me, because I'm not a kid anymore either. Even if I act like I have imaginary friends.

"I came to check on you, darling. How are you settling in?"

"Better now," I reply vaguely. It's the truth. Vincent and I have hung out here every day for the past three days, which helps tremendously.

"Good, good," Paul says, brushing off the sleeves of his suit jacket. "Have they bothered you at all?"

I frown. "Who?"

"Mr. Jenkins and his pack. Oliver showed me the house, and I spoke to Emmett on the phone. I assumed if Samuel was a dick, then they all were and I wanted to make sure they aren't bugging you."

My stomach revolts, and I swear I can feel every drop of blood drain from my face. I think I sway a little, because the next thing I know, Vincent's there with an arm wrapped protectively around my hip.

So they did it. They're a pack.

Vincent's growl pulls me back to the present. "Why the hell would they be bothering Amaya?"

Paul frowns, and just like so many moments in my life, the sense of foreboding threatens to steal my breath.

"Well, Samuel Jenkins was fucking awful to her during the signing?—"

"I know that!" Vincent snaps. "But why would they be bothering her still?"

He looks between us with a worried frown that I'm sure is a steeple in his line of work. "Because they live two houses down."

"WHAT?!"

Vincent's roar is background noise to the ringing in my ears. Or maybe it's a whine. My heart cracks and thumps wildly. A broken heart that knows how close her mates are. Reaching out for the ones who despise her, wanting their love and their touch while simultaneously breaking in half as Samuel's face filled with hatred dominates all thought.

Anger and despair choke me.

They are so close, yet too far. Too far for this omega to reach and mend the tear. Because I am the cause.

An omega torn.

Torn from her mates in the middle of the night.

Torn from the natural connection between person and instinct.

Torn between running to their front door and pleading to be loved or striking a match and burning their home to the ground for their rejection of a shattered mate.

Samuel knew , I realize.

Almost a week and they haven't shown themselves.

If that's not a whole pack rejection, I don't know what is.

I let the ringing drive me off the edge of madness and into the depths of numbness.

I'll just have to hope that this pain can't find me in my sleep.