Page 11 of Evan and the Alpha

Phapha’s eyes widen, both at the strange word and the fact the omega has spoken out of turn.

“A sun spirit,” I clarify when my sire looks to me.

“A sun spirit.” Phapha sounds awed. That strange fluttering nips at the back of my throat again.

Evan sighs and looks away, but he wisely doesn’t try to correct my phapha. For that, I am thankful.

I am less thankful that the older alpha turns a critical gaze on me, judging me. “Perhaps the omega would like to let the alphas speak.”

“Anything you can say to him, you can say to me,” Evan says hotly, and I’m a bit surprised. Not at him speaking out of line, but at the ferocity in his voice. My scales all but tingle when I look at him.

“Some talk is not for omegas,” my phapha insists.

“Bullshit,” Evan says, and I share a look with my sire. I lay a hand on the omega’s shoulder.

“Perhaps it would be wise.” The filaments of his crest stand on end when I speak in his ear like that. Curious.

“No,” Evan insists. “I’m not gonna go sit in the other room so you two can talk about me. I’m not stupid, you know.”

I can’t quite explain the nagging sensation that sinks through me, like a stone. I feel as though I should be used to Evan’s acrid looks, his sour words by now. Yet something still rankles.

Phapha takes a sip of his tea. He closes his eyes and sets the cup down with a decisive clink. “Very well then,” he says. He looks me dead in the eye when he opens his again. “You should not sell this omega.”

I blink. That was not what I expected to hear from my sire’s mouth. “But,” I begin, “I am not in a position to—”

“Who cares?” Phapha thunders. “You have a sun spirit.” He extends a clawed hand to Evan. “You really think you’ll get something better than that?”

“But,” I repeat, looking at Evan. I expect him to look smug, pleased, but he looks just as confused and worried as I feel.

Phapha shakes his head. “You do not wait for glory,” he says. “You’re an alpha. You must seize it with your hands. You think giving away a piece of divinity—the child of gods—is wise? I pity you, my child.”

I let the corners of my mouth loop down to show him my displeasure at his words. How can he know that Evan says he is not a child of the gods? I have no way of proving whether he is or isn’t. Some of the things he says make it sound like he must be a sun spirit. Others … not so much.

I do not know how much my phapha is ready to understand. I am not sure how much I understand myself. All I know is that Evan is very strange. Whether that makes him divine or not—I cannot tell.

“Only a fool would give it away,” Phapha continues. “When you find gold, do you sell it? Or do you keep it for yourself, knowing that it will make you richer longer?”

I scowl. I know he’s right, but I was looking forward to getting rid of Evan. He confuses me. Unsettles me. I would be happier if I could put this whole sun spirit misadventure behind me.

I think. I glance again at Evan, who returns my gaze.

I turn back to my phapha. “Even if you speak wisdom,” I say sternly, “I cannot think of keeping an omega. I have no territory. Thus, I can have no claim on an omega.”

My phapha has a strange glint in his golden eyes, and I swallow and look down at the table. We both know what the answer is; I could solve the issue of not having a territory with one strike right now.

I do not have the courage in my heart to kill him. Not today. I have thought of it before, of course. My phapha holds a vast territory. If I killed him, I would claim it. He is old; he has outlived his usefulness as an alpha. It would be mercy to kill him now, before he descends into decrepitude.

But, whenever I think of this, all I can imagine is how much Omom will cry. Then Omom will die too. For that is the fate of an omega when their alpha dies.

It is silly and softhearted, childish, I know. I am an adult. This is the way of things. It has always been the way of things. Children replace their parents.

And yet … My hand always hesitates, just as it does now.

I get to my feet. I bow my head to my phapha. “Thank you,” I say. “We’ll go now. I can see coming here was a mistake.”

Phapha frowns deeply, but I ignore him. I force Evan to his feet, then out of the apartment.

In three days, Evan will be out of my life, and I won’t need to worry about the confusion he stirs in me any longer.