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Everything I learned about being an Omega was in the event of something going wrong.
It’s been like a backup plan and thinking about it as if it might start to happen feels crazy.
I know if I get my first heat now, I’m likely going to feel the consequences of supressing my nature.
I could get painful cramps that can only be eased by an Alpha’s knot, and that’s just the start of the side effects of suppression. If I don’t take an Alpha as a heat mate, I could end up sick with a fever, or worse. In the rarest cases, Omegas have been known to die from the sicknesses they can develop if their heats go unattended.
I should walk away now, while I still can.
While my life as a Beta still exists.
I might like these guys, but they don’t like me. They’re attracted to my shiny, perfect twin.
Giving up everything I’ve worked for to be with them would be a huge mistake, and it’s not like they’d be cool with the fact that I’m not Scarlett once they found out.
I’ve been lying to them, and they’re good guys.
Heroes don’t like liars.
Besides, I would always feel like I was second best in their eyes if I tried to make this crazy situation work out. I can’t try to do that. I need to walk away. Before I make a bad decision that wrecks everything for everyone.
I sit up, letting the blanket Bishop placed on me fall away.
It takes a second to find Scarlett’s sneakers and start putting them on.
I’ll get out of here, and I won’t show up for the rest of the week.
There’s nothing I can say to explain any of this, to excuse it or apologize.
It’s better if I say nothing, and I can drive back to the city in the morning.
Scarlett can decide what to tell them later, if she even bothers to tell them anything.
Chapter forty-nine
Bishop
I’m not sure I believe Gus’s promise that he’ll spend time with Scarlett if we all still believe she’s our mate on Thursday morning, but he sounded convincing enough that I can’t justify bringing it up again. Once we’re finished eating, I get a tray and put soup and bread on it, alongside a bottle of water.
“You’re not clearing the dishes?” Rueben asks, as he puts his empty bowl by the side of the sink.
“You can clear them for me,” I tell him, watching his face fall.
“But …” he mumbles, trailing off when he realizes he doesn’t have an excuse.
“I’ll open the lounge door for you,” Scout says, drawing an irritated glance from Rueben.
“Sure,” I agree, shooting Scout a bemused smile.
Gus clears his throat. “I’ll get back to looking after the cat you stole from that old man.”
“I did not steal anything!” Rueben calls back as Gus leaves the room.
I hear him head upstairs, and I breathe out a relieved sigh.
Maybe by the end of the week, the cat-sitting duties will have mellowed Gus out a little.
Scout moves to the kitchen doorway, and I follow him into the hall.
