Page 37 of An Alpha’s Guide to Finding the One

Wyatt at least has the decency to look chagrined, but Lucky puts a hand on his arm. “We’re sorry. We don’t mean to speak for you or at you, but I think I speak for both myself and Wyatt when I say our alphas are just freaking the fuck out about leaving you. It’s seventy-two hours at most and yet it feels like we might never see you again.”

Taking a chance, I stand up and turn slightly sideways before plopping myself into Lucky’s lap. I don’t need a bond to know he’s thinking about the last time I ducked out without a word, and for the first time I feel guilty leaving him the way I did that night. I couldn’t have known then what I know now, but the guilt eats at me all the same. “I promise I will be right here when you get back. Lawson and I will either figure our stuff out or we won’t, but I swear it won’t affect my relationship with the three of you. And I’ll text you the whole time you’re gone, even if it’s just a string of complaints about the woes of pregnancy. After all, I was promised a glow, and so far the only glow I’ve gotten is from sweat.”

He grins and the other two put their hands on me as well. “Don’t worry, we like you sweaty.” He says this with an exaggerated wink. “And don’t worry, we’ll probably texting you like obsessed psychos the whole time. Plus, we’re taking our Lainey t-shirts with us so everyone knows me and Wy are off limits.”

A feral snarl cracks the quiet comfort of the room, and it takes a minute to realize the sound came out of me. “Woah.” I blink, trying to clear the red haze from my vision. “I’m sorry, I have no idea what just happened. I have never made that sound before.”

All three of the guys grin like idiots. “I do.” Rhys says smugly. “Your omega just laid her claim on us. Which means you like us.”

I roll my eyes, desperate to get this train back on the tracks before they trap me into admitting my feelings. “Don’t you all have somewhere to be?”

They laugh but heed my warning, standing to gather the last items they’ll need for a weekend away. My chest gets tight watching them, but I channel the Lainey from a year ago and shove down every omega instinct that is screaming at me to beg them to stay and scent mark them until they all smell unmistakably like me.

They all leave at the same time and my heart thuds painfully as I watch the cars pull out. They’re barely out of the driveway when my phone pings, momentarily distracting me. I expect it to be Posey, but my heart starts racing for a whole new reason when I see my mom’s name pop up with a link below it.

Laura Ryan

*link*

What the hell is this, Magdalene? When did you get so fat, and why does it look like you’re standing with an alpha? A famous one, no less?

The link she has attached is a sports article featuring photos of me, Lucky, and Wyatt the night of their game that the girl hitting on Lucky must have taken. The whole thing is a speculative piece on whether football’s next big thing is ready to settle down. Wyatt is mentioned briefly but only as Lucky’s right hand. No mention of pack and they don’t mention me by name, which is a relief.

My mom’s words sting, but it’s no different than the things she said when I was growing up. Only this time on the heels of the hurt is anger. A hot, poisonous rage that is twofold. One side is fueled by wanting to protect my babies because I know she would have nothing kind to say about them, and the other is for my alphas. Lucky, because she sees him as nothing but a payout, and Wyatt, because she ignored him altogether in her assumption I would only be with the famous one.

Me

Pretty sure they call it the freshman fifteen, mother. And I also have this other thing, it’s new. Some people call them friends.

Laura Ryan

You don’t have to be so bitchy, Mags. You need to use what you have and snare an alpha or pack before you graduate. God knows you can’t do anything else.

The earlier rage intensifies, sending fiery tendrils of fury through my veins. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, but again she’s talking about using my alphas like they aren’t people, just a wallet and potential while simultaneously diminishing every accomplishment I have ever had. I fucking hate it. Hate that she has had so much power over me and still thinks she can wield it. My phone dings again, and I seriously contemplate blocking her.

Laura Ryan

What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t look out for my only child? I’m just trying to help and you’re being an ungrateful brat.

And there it is. Horrible insults followed up with a half-assed attempt at a guilt trip. I click the button to lock my phone, deciding it will be in my best interest to keep my stress levels low and ignore her. Her words can’t do anything but leave tiny little paper cuts on my heart. Sure they hurt like hell and I’m all too aware of them for weeks, if not months, after a verbal attack. But it is a hell of a lot better that than her showing up and ruining my life again.

It’s not until hours later, after her words have settled and the house is quiet, that I let the first tears fall.

I never realized how empty this house feels until now. It isn’t the first time I have been here alone since we moved in, but it’s the first time I’ve been alone with my bonded omega that I’ve barely spoken to in weeks. Rhys has been not so subtly trying to convince me to pull me head out of my ass and talk to her about all the fears I have regarding her life and pregnancy, but it’s like every time I see her the words get stuck in my throat.

Now we’re alone together for the next two days. There are no jobs, no school, nothing to distract from the painful realization that I bonded my scent match and then essentially abandoned her because I was too in my head to be a good partner. I owe her a hell of an apology and at the very least, my honesty.

Problem is, I have not a single damn clue how to broach this conversation.

I’ve sequestered myself in my office on the first floor so I can try to come up with a game plan when a knock startles me so much I knock a paperweight off my desk. “Shit. Yeah?” I call, trying to pick up the offending marble orb before it rolls under a shelf and is lost forever.

Lainey pokes her head in. “Hey, do you have a minute?” Her eyes are slightly red and puffy, and I wonder if she cried when the guys left.

I nod immediately and wave her into the room without hesitation. I may be terrible at expressing my feelings, but I’m not such a monster that I would ever deprive my omega when she wants to talk. Maybe this will be exactly the opportunity I need to give her the first of many apologies to come.

“I know you’re busy so I don’t want to take up too much of your time, but I didn’t want this weekend to pass by without saying something.”

Her grave tone has my heart rate skyrocketing and that lump that always seems to form in my throat around her lately makes it feel like I’m choking. “Okay.” The word is barely more than a rasp, but if she notices she doesn’t let on.