Mom would fuss at me just as much about planning to buy a house for all of us as she did me wanting to help her out with bills. She was worried their presence would scare away any potential mate—as if my work hours didn’t already do the trick. Of course, she would also say if I wasn’t so focused on helping her and Shelby, I wouldn’t have to work so hard, but…
I said if any omega didn’t like how important my family was, they weren’t the right omega for me.
My truck’s engine took a moment to catch, reminding me of yet another upcoming expense that would slow down my plans for a house. I couldn’t help that, though. All I could do was keep putting one foot in front of the other and hope I could find some breathing space eventually. There’d be time enough for an omega and kids then.
3
Wyatt
Once I came down the next morning, I was surprised when Craig pointed at a full breakfast. Hunter was airplaning a spoonful of mush in and out of his redheaded son’s mouth. I’d met the little one last night. “Breakfast is shit at the cafeteria. We swap chores here in the house. You know how to cook?”
Craig grimaced. “Hunter’s hopeless at it, too. I’m not damning myself to burned eggs and toast while either of you learn. Not like Hunter’s interested at all. I’ll keep cooking.”
“What about the other chores?” I asked.
“There’s a list on the fridge,” Hunter said. He teased Bast with the spoon, sliding forward until the baby opened his mouth, then sliding it away as the child waved his arms frantically. Hunter did this several times before finally letting Bast nom on the spoon with enthusiasm.
I settled in and took my first bites. “Wow, Craig. This is amazing.” I honestly hadn’t thought he was the kind of guy who would cook, period, let alone perfectly fluffy eggs and crunchy bacon—with the perfect amount of chew.
He shrugged. “It’s nothing special. Eggs and bacon and toast. Anyone ought to be able to manage it, but I swear Hunter can burn toast even with a toaster.”
The chubby omega flushed. “I get distracted.”
“A toaster has a timer for a reason. I understand cold toast, but burnt toast? I keep telling you, put it on the lowest level.”
Hunter’s shoulders curled forward, the tension rising, even if Craig was oblivious to it.
“Bast is an interesting name. Isn’t that an Egyptian god?”
Hunter set aside Bast’s spoon and took four tiny, precise sips of water. “Bast, Bastet. It’s the lioness god. Also the god of home, women and childbirth. Shifter scholars have found reference to her also being acknowledged as the god of omegas. Actually, though, Bast is a nickname. His full name, Sebastian, is a lot to handle for a little bit like him.”
That was the most words I’d heard Hunter speak at once. I had a million questions. Where was Bast’s alpha dad? What had brought them here? Questions I knew I shouldn’t ask. Chance had assured me no one here would ask about my past unless it was in a controlled, therapeutic environment. Without saying, the expectation I wouldn’t ask others about their stories clearly went the other way as well.
“Sebastian. Bast. I like that.”
Craig stood, his plate empty. “Until we get things sorted with the other chores, you can take dishes, Wyatt. I’m going to my room for a bit before counseling.”
“Sure.” Counseling. I was both terrified and excited. I didn’t even know where I was going to start working through everything that had happened to me over the last few years. I’d honestly done my best to forget it, which was hard when every time someone slammed a door too loudly, I shifted and ran for cover.
It didn’t even make sense. It wasn’t like I’d lived through a bombing or anything. At least I could understand why most alphas set me on edge. I’d come to a small sense of comfort around the Novaks, but still… there was a lot of alpha in their house and I was on edge all the time, as well-meaning as they were.
Today was my first day of group counseling. Individual counseling didn’t start for at least another week because of scheduling availability.
My body buzzed with anticipation. Regardless of the swirl of complicated emotions in my gut, I was ready, as Craig had put it the other night, to become a Real Boy.
Chance was just as bouncy first thing after breakfast as he was in the afternoon. Two other omegas had already arrived. The tall brunette, his skin so pale he almost seemed to glow in the fluorescent lighting, smiled and waved, while the thicker one with short, lime-green hair and dark brown skin seemed not to have noticed us, tapping away at his phone.
“Welcome, everybody!” Chance clapped his hands. “As you can see, we have a new guest. We’ll go around and do introductions as soon as everyone gets settled and I get some coffee.”
As he loped away, I blinked, wide-eyed. “Does he even need coffee?”
The green-haired omega snorted and looked up. “I think it has the opposite effect on him. What’s that called? Where when you take uppers, it acts like a downer?”
I couldn’t place his drawl. I’d heard something like it a few times before from… clients. That seemed too benign a word, but I couldn’t bring myself to think further about them.
“The paradox effect.” Hunter pulled a baby wipe out of his pocket and wiped the chair next to the green-haired omega before sitting.
“That. I swear Chance has got some kind of paradox effect. You don’t want to see him without caffeine.” Green Hair whistled. “Caffeine calms him down so he can communicate effectively with us mere mortals.”
Craig flopped into the nearest empty chair, and I took the remaining one between him and the pale omega. Chance bounced back, his coffee safely contained in a travel mug.
“Introduction time! We’ll start with our veterans so we don’t put Wyatt on the spot. Just share your name and as much about what brought you here as you’re comfortable with. I’ll start. My name is Chance Perelli. I’m the group therapy facilitator here at The Haven Center. I specialize in trauma therapy. I’ve been here, full-time, for four years.” He looked expectantly at the tall omega next to him.
“My name is Shane Woods.” His wave was a big circle. “I was mated for eleven years, with my abuser for thirteen. He’s a covert narcissist and currently has custody of my three children because I attempted suicide fourteen months ago. I’m currently fighting him in court.” Shane rubbed his palms on his pants and nodded at me with a smile. He seemed amazingly calm, given what he’d shared. Would I ever be that calm, talking about my past?
“Thank you, Shane. We’ll come back to you, Wyatt. Craig?”
Craig shrugged one shoulder, the picture of bored disinterest. “My name is Craig Williams. My life was shit from the start. It’s still shit.”
The silence grew for a moment too long for comfort before Chance thanked him and called on Hunter.
“I’m Hunter Pulaski. I was a victim of the True Mate cult, and I’m attending college online to become a teacher.”
The green-haired omega was last. “Hey, what’s up? My name is Geordie Johnson. I’ve just left a four-year abusive relationship with an alcoholic. He wasn’t a shifter, so no mating bond, thank god.”