Chapter Text
At the tender and impressionable age of ten, the students in my grade learned about secondary genders and sex characteristics for the first time.
I distinctly remember being fascinated.
At twelve years old, Caleb’s clinical work up conclusively indicated him as an alpha. Then, at fifteen, he officially presented.
Even though we lived in the same house, his room just a short walk down the hallway, I never really knew the details. I remember his sudden growth spurt, the way he began to tower over other kids his age.
More embarrassingly, I had a total and complete meltdown about it. Because when my twelfth birthday had come around, despite my obsession with all things alpha and omega, my testing showed inconclusive results.
A year later, the results were the same. So was the year after that. Again and again, inconclusive.
I distinctly remember being devastated.
Grandma had tried to console me. She was a beta, and there was nothing wrong with that. And I knew that she was right, knew that there was no stigma in not presenting.
Yet as Caleb went up and away to Skyhaven, it just became another element that widened the gap between us.
Another instance that reminded me that he was extraordinary, special, off to do great things, and I was…I was just me.
Still in high school, average. Ordinary.
Beta.
It was on a Monday night that everything changed. Late September, the beginning of my senior year in high school and the start of monsoon season.
And what a season it was turning out to be. Loud enough to wake me from peaceful dreams and directly into a frenzied panic.
I always hated storms, the memories they brought.
Tiptoeing down the hallway, I find myself in front of Caleb’s door. Even though I know he isn’t in there, sleeping soundly, my hand couldn’t quite manage to turn the doorknob.
It isn’t locked, he almost never locked me out, but it was the principal of the matter, wasn't it? The invasion of entering someone’s private space uninvited.
A crack of thunder, a reverberating crash of sound that shakes the bones of the house.
Old fear chills my blood, pushing me forward, past the boundary of the doorway and into the dark room.
The air is cool, slightly stale from disuse. Caleb hadn’t been home in a while, and neither Grandma or me had aired it out yet, despite his upcoming visit this weekend.
Still, as I pull back the covers of his bed, his scent lingers. In a room full of things touched by his hand, his skin, the storm-born panic finally, blessedly, subsides.
Something, a voice, an instinct, tells me I’ll be safe here. I curl up in his sheets, my face rubbing the pillows that he would rest his head on, if he was here.
Thunder booms, a splash of lighting following. I squeeze my eyes shut, slip on my headphones, and take a deep, if ragged, breath.
Caleb’s warmth fills my lungs when I finally fall asleep.
A searing pain rips me awake for the second time tonight. Sitting up with a gasp, I fumble for my phone to check the time. Half past three in the morning, it’s only been a few short hours of respite. The howling storm outside has mellowed into a heavy rain lashing the windows and yet, there's a relentless awareness in my sleep clouded mind that something is wrong with me.
Very, very wrong.
A whimpering cry slips past my lips as another cramp tears through my lower abdomen. There’s a stickiness between my legs, and I’m briefly horrified at the thought that my period blood could be staining Caleb’s bed.
Untangling myself from the sheets, reassured that no tell tale dampness lingers behind me, I step unsteadily towards the door. Another cramp has me stumbling, but it’s the gush of wetness that brings me to my knees.
With a trembling hand, I gather up the liquid running down my thighs. A flash of lightning cuts through the darkness. Brief, but enough to see a distinct lack of redness.
Fear trickles down my spine like ice water, evaporating into mist from the fire licking up from my center. The reality of the situation clamors through my mind, warning sirens ringing between my ears.
Room spinning, I wobble my way back to the bed. As I fall back onto it with all the grace of a newborn deer, a scent wafts up and tickles my nose. It settles and sits on the roof of my mouth like nothing else ever has. Sunwarmed citrus, something earthy and aromatic like cinnamon, or-
I sniff again, mouth parting. It reminds me of cloves, spicy and sweet. I inhale again, deeper this time, and the skin at my neck, my wrists, tingles faintly.
Something prickles at the back of my mind. My last coherent thought is that I’ve finally presented, and I am rapidly, painfully going into heat.
The next few days were a blur of feverish pain; a constant, unbearable ache that I can’t soothe, no matter how hard I tried.
At some point, Gran’s voice called to me through the door, then frantic hands were pulling me from the nest of clothes I’d collected from Caleb’s closet.
I remember the frustration that the scent I was so hungry for was faded, distant.
Then the cool, impersonal touch of a doctor that nearly made me scream because it wasn’t what I wanted, who I needed. The brief sting of a needle, the fade to black sensation of passing out.
And then, once it was all over, Caleb came home early.
Home from my unwilling hospital stay, I’m bundled up in a blanket, sniffling wetly.
Caleb thoroughly, yet gently, scolds me.
It’s Thursday afternoon, and Grandma is out picking up my new suppressants. The emergency ones they’d given me during my heat were for short term use only, packing too powerful of a punch to take on a regular basis.
Unfortunately for me, she’s not here to mediate. I pick at a loose thread in the arm of the couch. My gaze strays out the window, watching the sophora blossoms sway.
Anything to help me pretend that this wasn’t my current reality. The bitter tinge to Caleb’s scent was enough to clearly indicate that he was not happy.
Neither was I, frankly, considering that the world of pheromones and scent glands, of slick and mating bonds, now includes me. That picking up on the intricacies of another’s scent was essentially its own language to learn and I was years behind.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he’s asking, looking for all the world like a disappointed older brother. “You could have called me. You know you can tell me anything.”
“It was just so embarrassing,” I whisper, looking down and away. “I didn’t have the time to think or- or plan…I didn’t even realize what was happening at first!”
Wrapping my arms around my middle, I feel like I might cry, might roll over and show him my belly. I want to blame it on the remnants of my heat, on the unpleasant whiff of angry alpha pheromones he’s projecting.
Deep down, it's really just because I can’t stand Caleb being upset with me. Designations aside, I never could, probably never will.
“You should have told me,” he repeats, a little crazed. He hasn’t stopped restlessly pacing around the living room, an agitated tiger on the prowl. “I would have come home, I could have helped.”
This draws me out of my melancholy. “Caleb, what could you have done?” I ask, mystified. “And do you really think I would have wanted you to see me like- like that?”
Caleb opens his mouth before hesitating, as if the realization of what exactly helping an Omega during their heat would entail only belatedly occurs to him. He clears his throat, the tips of his ears turning pink.
We match in that respect.
“Gran said you built a nest in my room,” he says instead, not meeting my eyes. He rubs the back of his neck. “She and the doc think that, maybe, it was my scent- y’know, an alpha’s scent, that set it off.”
The way he says it is a little rough around the edges, and almost…proud. Typical alpha behavior, I think, even as a sliver of satisfaction sings in the back of my mind.
In the front of my mind, I’m horrified, and it’s all I can do to not run screaming from the room. “Caleb, I really, really don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Alright, alright. Fair enough.”
With a heavy sigh, he plops down next to me, shifting the cushion with his weight, my body sliding into his. Taking my hand, he sits with me for a long moment before speaking.
“Will you please just…tell me in the future? Gran’s a beta, she doesn’t have the nose for this kind of stuff, literally,” he says, knocking his shoulder into mine playfully. “I’d worry about you too much otherwise.”
With the earnest puppy dog face he’s giving, I can only relent. “Fine, but the doctor already warned me that my next couple of heats might be irregular as my body adjusts to the sudden surge of hormones.”
Caleb nods, thoughtful. His eyes glaze over in speculative contemplation even as I continue.
“I’ve also installed an app that should help me keep track of it,” I say, pulling it up on my phone to show him. I’m hoping this will reassure him that I’m taking this seriously and that he can stop with the mother hen act.
Caleb notes this with interest, scanning the mostly blank calendar. “So your first one only lasted three days, then. Guess it could have been worse, huh? I’ve heard they can last up to a week.”
Three incredibly painful and intense days, but I don’t tell him that. Shuddering at the idea of the miserable experience lasting even longer, I snatch my phone back.
“Anyways, the doctor also prescribed some suppressants.” I heave myself off the couch gingerly, body still aching in embarrassing places. “That way, even if it comes randomly, it won’t be as bad. Hopefully, I’ll barely even have a heat at all.”
Turning back, I see the oddest expression on his face, his lip curled disdainfully. Caleb grins easily, a little too quickly, when he notices me watching.
“Good, that’s good,” he says, following after me and pulling me into a tight hug. “Just be careful with those, yeah? Taking them for too long can mess you up.”
Nuzzling into his chest, I subtly breathe him in, a wave of contentment washing over me. He smells so good when he’s not angry, when he’s within reach and tangible.
“Sure, whatever you say,” I murmur. “Can we talk about something, anything else now? If you’re only going to be here for a little while, there’s no time to waste.”
Caleb pats me on the head. “Sure thing, pipsqueak. Whatever you want.”
Determined to make the most of his visit, I drag Caleb with me to all of our old haunts, updating him on all the little changes he’s missed since he was here last.
As late morning slips into early afternoon, I can feel the last traces of my heat fade away with the cool breeze.
“And look,” I say, pointing at the general store, “the old man that works there asks about you all the time, you know.”
Caleb raises a hand as a shield against the sunlight reflecting off the shop sign. “Oh yeah, we would always stop there after school. You used to always make me buy you lollipops and comics with my hard earned pocket money.”
“What do you mean, used to?” I grab his wrist and tug him along behind me. “Let's go say hi! That way he can see how that ‘nice young pilot’ is doing for himself.”
Caleb snorts and takes his hand back, tucking them into his pockets and following at a leisurely pace. The endless summer hydrangeas are in full bloom, visible around the corner of the slightly weathered brick.
After successfully cajoling him into buying us both a treat, we make our way home as the sun begins to set. Even with the noisy cacophony of cicadas, it’s peaceful. The sunlight filtering through the branches has shadows dancing along Caleb’s face, the light lovingly highlighting his features.
I hold behind a bit, pretending to fix my shoe, before launching a sneak attack. With a running leap, I land with a breathless laugh on Caleb’s back, his arms automatically coming to support my legs even as he grunts.
“Gotcha,” I sing, resting my chin on his shoulder. “Looks like your reflexes are still good.”
Caleb’s stiff as he adjusts me, hitching me up his back until I’m looking down at the top of his head. Despite the gentle breeze, his ears look a little pink.
“And it looks like you’re still a little princess whose feet are too precious to touch the ground,” he says, a little sarcastic, a little fond.
I press a smile into his soft hair, enjoying the strength of his body and the security of being held by him. His scent tickles my nose pleasantly, better than anything the passing flowers could offer.
With his hands occupied, the stick hangs out the corner of his mouth. His lips are glossy and red from the cherry candy. I look away, focusing on my own lollipop.
Our home comes into view with the next corner we take and I tug gently at his ear as I attempt to wriggle free from his hold. Caleb releases me and I race ahead to the gate.
“It’s still messy from the storm the other night,” I say as he catches up to me. “Grandma and I started cleaning up a bit, but…”
There’s no need to mention the frantic scramble to the hospital. Caleb, hands on his hips, casts a critical gaze around the yard. Sophora flowers litter the ground, and the crooked weather vane creaks sadly from the fence.
“No worries. I’ll take care of everything before I head back.”
I beckon for him to come closer. “Here, don’t get your clothes all dirty,” I say, tugging at his cuff and rolling his sleeve up. He exhales sharply when I accidentally graze a nail along the gland at his wrist.
“Sorry!”
Caleb backs up a few paces and rolls his sleeves to his elbows. “It’s fine. I guess now you know just how sensitive these are, huh?”
He looks pointedly down at where I had begun rubbing my own wrists together. Awkwardly, I tuck my hands behind my back.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “It’s weird. It’s like…I was always so fascinated by secondary genders and yet…”
I trail off, watching the clouds drift lazily in the sky. I hear the scraping sound of the ladder as Caleb sets it up.
“I remember,” he says, deftly securing the drooping weather vane. “I also remember you cryin’ up a storm when I first presented.”
Sitting down on the garden bench with a huff, I watch as he scales the ladder and fixes the vane to its original home on the roof.
“I don’t like feeling left out of things,” I say, crossing my arms. “But I guess I’m still not sure how to feel now that it’s my turn. Is that hypocritical?”
Caleb doesn’t answer, leaving me to my thoughts as he works. I swing my feet as he carefully begins to sweep up the blooms. I watch the muscles of his arms flex and an emotion I decide is jealousy sours my tongue. It wasn’t fair that, as an alpha, he only had to suffer through a painful growth spurt. A fair trade off for increased strength and stamina, honestly.
Omegas really do get the short of the stick, I think, having to be dependent on alphas. My scowl deepens the more I think about it. Back in school, they taught us that it was an omega's instinct to please them. To be submissive.
I don’t want to be submissive to anyone.
“Your face is gonna get stuck that way,” says Caleb as he squats down in front of me. He pokes the skin between my brows. “You’re worrying, aren’t you?”
Grumbling, I explain what had been on my mind just now. “...and isn't that kind of gross? I wish I had presented as an alpha instead. Now I just feel pathetic.”
Taking a seat on the bench, Caleb leans against the garden wall, looking thoughtful.
“I don't think it’s gross, and you are definitely not pathetic.” He plucks a petal from my hair and blows it back into the wind. “Nature demands balance. It’s as simple as that.”
I stick my tongue out. “Says the guy who got all the best traits for himself. I swear, you get bigger every time I see you.”
A cocky smile, then he turns to me with a more serious expression. “Yeah, yeah. But seriously, omegas have more power than you think. Didn’t you pay attention in school?”
“What, you mean how we’re supposed to be sweet and obedient to soothe our alpha? Pass.”
Caleb nudges me with an elbow. “Not what I meant, brat. I’m just sayin’, alphas are also biologically wired to please and protect omegas. It’s a two way street.”
Grinning, I push his thigh over and lay my head down on his lap. “Excellent point. Alpha, it would please me to use you as a pillow.”
I giggle at the flustered look on his face. Still, he doesn’t protest. “Aren’t you a little too old to be messing around? We’re not kids anymore, you know.”
“True, but you’re Caleb,” I say simply, idly playing with the silver chain around his neck. “We’ll always be like this, won’t we?”
When he doesn’t immediately respond, I tug on the necklace, bringing his face closer. His cheeks pinken as he shoots me a glare.
“Behave,” he warns, angling his head back. “Stop touching me.”
Caleb’s scent shifts, becoming stronger. I can’t quite read it yet, all I know is that it smells incredible. I nuzzle closer, exhaling a contented breath across his stomach.
“Hey, do you think I’ll let you do whatever you want?”
Gently, but firmly, pushing me up and off, Caleb steps away and picks up the broom. I watch, baffled, as he resumes tidying up the yard. The lines of his shoulders are tensed up to his red ears, his movements stiff.
“You need to remember that boundaries exist, and I don’t always want you climbing all over me like I’m some sort of tree.”
I freeze, the words not registering. What was even more strange was the seriousness with which he said it. He isn’t just joking around, playing the silly bully…he really means it.
“Just…back off a bit, okay?”
The expression on his face when he glances over his shoulder…I hate it. Almost hated him, for the briefest of moments, for making me feel this way.
Because suddenly, I feel every bit the clingy, needy omega. I wonder if I look as pathetic as I feel.
Slowly, I shuffle towards the front door, giving him the space he so desperately craves.
“Okay. Yeah. Um, sorry,” I mutter, looking anywhere but at him. The wind picks up again. The weather vane spins diligently. “I’m gonna head in and take a shower before studying.”
I turn abruptly, before I even finish my sentence, and march inside.
Caleb doesn’t call me back.
In fact, he doesn’t say anything at all.
The door slams behind me.
Later on, Caleb cooked dinner for Grandma and me, one of my many favorites.
I barely tasted it.
The conversation was sparse and stilted as he updated us on how his courses were going. The jokes about his dorm mates fell flat. My awkward laughter as I recounted a story about Grandma and I attempting to bake a new pie recipe sounded discordant.
Grandma, looking bemusedly between us, only chimed in here and there. Caleb and I both ignored the touch of concern in her voice.
The rest of his short visit saw us dancing around each other. Even if he’d so much as move to nudge my shoulder with his, I’d suddenly hear my phone vibrate and dodge to grab it.
Caleb’s violet gaze was reproachful. I pretended not to notice.
My heart felt heavy. I pretended not to notice that, too. As well as the faint voice in the back of my subconscious that practically whined at me to stop avoiding him.
Not exactly the fun, carefree weekend I had imagined for us, but at least he was here. And even if I wasn’t allowed to touch, I could still bathe in the warmth of his presence.
Almost.
That night, I slipped on one of his shirts as I was getting ready for bed. Once he hit his final growth spurt, his tees fit like a nightdress, perfect for hot summer nights.
I wondered if he knew that I still slept in them, even before I turned his room into a disaster with my first attempt at nesting.
They smelled like him. Comforting. Familiar.
At the moment, though, it sort of made me want to cry.
On the last night of his trip, I once again find myself outside his bedroom. It’s late, and the house is quiet. I knock once before creaking open the door.
Even with the window having been open for days, I can still smell the imprint of myself in his room. Smell the way it’s entwined itself with his.
I hesitate in the doorway, trying to settle my suddenly racing heart.
“Pips? What are you doing- wait, is that my shirt?”
Caleb looks at me bemusedly, head cocked to the side. I look down at the dark cotton hanging to my knees, picking at a piece of lint, shrugging and nonchalant.
Book in hand, he’s half reclined on his bed, shirtless. I’m wearing his shirt.
It’s almost funny, if I had the capacity for humor right now.
“Geez, at this rate I won’t have anything to wear when I come home,” he says, laughter in his voice.
“Oh no, how terrible,” I mutter under my breath.
“What was that?”
Clearing my throat, I step further inside, brandishing my phone at him.
“Nothing. Anyways, I just wanted to tell you that Grandma called,” I say, popping my hip against his desk. “I guess she and her friend accidentally had one too many glasses of wine so she’s gonna stay the night there.”
Caleb raises his brows. “Gran getting drunk? Didn’t think she still had it in her.”
Biting my lip to hold back my smile, I nod in agreement. “How scandalous. She asked me to tell you in advance that she loves and misses you, and she’s very sorry she won’t be here to see you off. She also said to grab some extra jackets from storage before you go.”
Given its significant altitude, even at the height of summer, nights up in Skyhaven could get uncomfortably brisk.
Caleb, mid-yawn, huffs out a laugh. “Guess her eyesight’s getting worse these days. Those won’t fit me anymore, but I’ll let her know she can donate them.”
He had most definitely developed new muscle mass, if the almost obscene bulge of his biceps was any indication.
Averting my gaze from his chest, I jerk my chin toward his closet. “When you come home next, just sort out what you don’t need anymore. I’ll take care of it for you.”
“Aww, thanks pipsqueak. But are you sure that isn’t just an excuse to steal even more of my clothes?”
Guilty as charged. Again, I shrug. “It’s not stealing, it’s donating to a good cause.”
Caleb smirks knowingly. “Sure, let’s go with that.”
Neither of us says anything else. I glance at him in time to see the mirth fade from his expression and turn to something more solemn.
“Before you go, we should talk a little more…about what I mentioned the other day.”
Frankly, I disagree. I’d be happy enough as long as that particular subject never came up again. That way, I could pretend.
Pretend that he was still just Caleb, my doting and kind best friend. And I was still just me, his occasionally troublesome…adopted sister?
I frown at the thought. Sisters didn’t have weird thoughts about their big brothers, adopted or not.
That was the truth of it, deep down. I genuinely couldn’t remember the last time Caleb felt like a brother. He was always just…Caleb. Protector, helper, partner in crime and general mischief making. Occasional thorn in my side.
More recently, an alpha whose scent made my blood sizzle and dance through my veins.
Someone who, practically overnight, had become almost unbearably attractive. Someone who made my heart ache in unfamiliar ways.
“I think you said enough,” I say, keeping my tone cool. Casual. “You think we need boundaries. That’s…it’s fine, I get it.”
Edging back towards the door, I keep talking over my shoulder. “You’re basically an adult now, I’m still a silly high school girl, so it’s weird to- to cuddle and stuff. It’s whatever. You can just dro-“
“Stop trying to be so cavalier about this,” says Caleb, sounding exasperated. “If you’re upset, tell me, and we can sort it out. I can’t stand the thought of leaving on bad terms.”
That makes me stop. Fists clenching at my sides, I angle my head to glance back at him.
Shoulders hunched, he looks genuinely devastated by the thought. Guilt churns in my stomach. Something must show on my face because he leans forward, stretching out his hand.
“Talk to me? Please?”
Oh, but I so do not want to open this can of worms. I also know that if we don’t do this now, we’d miss our chance. What would we look like then? It was a risk I wasn’t willing to take.
“Caleb…it’s just,” I begin, pressing my palms to my stinging eyes and taking a deep breath. “We really can’t be close anymore? Isn’t it really just because I’m an omega now?”
I sniffle. He sighs.
“C’mere, pipsqueak,” he says, and I hear the soft sound of him patting the mattress.
An invitation. An olive branch.
I accept it, holding it like a precious treasure.
Shuffling over, feeling pathetic and small and just as immature as he basically accused me of being, I make sure to leave a healthy amount of space between us.
“First, let me apologize. Not that I didn’t mean what I said but…,” he sighs again, shaking his head. “I was a big meanie about it, wasn’t I?”
Finding my knees particularly interesting, I nod aggressively. He was a total jerk.
“You were. And honestly, I still don’t get it. Maybe I really am just a dumb kid to you, now that you’re in college…”
“Uh-uh. No. Stop that,” he says, ducking his head to meet my eyes. “Come on now, you have always been the most important person to me. Don’t tell me you forgot that?”
I don’t answer, choosing instead to let the silence turn sour. There was so much I wanted to say that I found I couldn’t say anything at all.
Caleb calls my name. Softly, gently, almost like he was begging. Flopping back on the pillows, staring at the ceiling like it had all the answers in the universe, I choose my words carefully.
“You’re so far away,” I whispered, blinking back tears. “Not just physically, up in Skyhaven, but…there’s this distance between us that just keeps growing, and I hate it.”
Caleb moves as if to speak but I hold up a hand. I have to get this out before my dwindling well of courage dries out.
“You really have changed. And you’re always, always leaving.” The words are small in my mouth, fragile. “It’s as if every time I try to look at you, you’re already turning away.”
Rolling over, my back to him as if to demonstrate what it feels like to always stare at his, I finally let the tears fall.
“Just because we’re getting older and because of these stupid designations, you can’t hold me anymore? I’m not allowed to touch you?”
My voice is thick with that awful high pitched nasal tone that blatantly indicates that I’m crying.
“And it’s so- so arbitrary, that you get to decide this by yourself. Without even considering my feelings!”
Chest heaving with emotion, I cut myself off before I can embarrass myself further. Cheeks flaming, I bury my face in the cool pillow. Soothing myself with his scent even now.
“I get what you’re sayin’, I really do,” murmurs Caleb, quiet and sad. “And I am so, so sorry that I made you feel that way. But- and please look at me when I say this.”
Tugging at my arm, I let him roll me onto my back, glaring pitifully just over his left shoulder. With a soft, sad smile, he wipes the remaining tears from my face.
“The thing is, I’m older than you in a way that matters. A couple years didn’t seem like too much of a difference when we were little, sure, but now?”
Caleb shakes his head, smiling ruefully. “And yeah, I won’t lie. Our designations make it even more complicated.”
“Technically, you’re still a teenager, too,” I grumble, hating the pout in my voice yet unable to stop it. “You’ve only been in college for a year. Stop acting like you’re some old man.”
Chuckling, he bops me on the nose before smoothing the hair back from my face. My eyelids flutter, nearly closing as a contented sigh whispers in the back of my mind.
“Don’t play dumb, you know what I mean. And it’s not like we can’t still be affectionate, you know. I’m just asking that you dial it back a bit. That’s all.”
Don’t wanna.
It’s what I want to say, but I’m smart enough to realize that now’s really not the time for childish antics. I offer him a vulnerable truth instead.
“But what’s wrong with it, Caleb? That’s what I don’t understand. We’ve always been this way, and…,” I pause, turning to meet his gaze directly. “I like us the way we are. I like being held by you. More than anything else, it feels like home.”
Caleb’s eyes widen, something like amazement flashing across his face. Then he clears his throat and averts his eyes before I can finish reading his expression.
“You- you’re an omega, now, and I’m an alpha,” he says, the light stammer making him sound uncharacteristically awkward. Almost like he was trying to convince himself more than me. “People will think-“
“I don’t care what people think!”
Scrubbing his hands across his face, he groans. “I’m trying to tell you it’s inappropriate.”
“How? How is it inappropriate? Explain it to me,” I retort heatedly. “Why do you have to make it weird? Do I annoy you too much? Is that it?”
“No, of course not, it’s not that-“
“Then tell me!”
“It’s not that simple! Because I-“
Caleb jerks his head to the side, breathing heavily through his nose.
My instincts sing at me. There was something there, something he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - say.
“I can tell when you’re hiding stuff from me. What aren’t you saying?”
Caleb shakes his head and huffs out a self deprecating laugh.
“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”
He sounds defeated. The stalemate we bickered ourselves into finally tips in my favor. He was on the cusp of something, I know it.
“We’re not supposed to keep secrets,” I remind him. “Tit for tat. I told you all that, even though it was embarrassing. I promise not to judge you.”
We stare at each other for a long moment, countless emotions charging the air between us. The stillness before a storm, the moment the wind dies down even as static electricity makes the hair on my arms prickle in warning.
“I can’t believe you’re making me say this,” he says, shaking his head. “Fine, fine. It’s because of me. All this, it’s my own problem.”
Brow furrowing in confusion, my mouth parts to ask him what the hell he means before he cuts me off.
“No, no, I’m not done,” he says tightly, running a hand through his hair. Caleb is visibly flustered, annoyed with himself, or maybe the situation at large.
“It’s just…your scent. It appeals to the alpha side of me.”
A sense of understanding begins to wash over me.
Oh.
Oh, no.
I open my mouth. Close it. My heart, having steadily risen with anticipation, drops into freefall. It lands in my stomach as a leaden, sickening weight. The fluttery feeling that had been building there dies a swift death and echoes up out of my throat as a hollow chuckle.
Of course. It was just because I was an omega. Caleb wouldn’t feel anything for me if I hadn’t sprouted scent glands and a new depth to my natural scent. One that shamelessly lures in alphas because that’s what I’m biologically designed to do now.
And without my permission, they had ensnared the one person on the planet I cared about the most. Turned his head my way, but he’s not looking at me.
Just a nice smelling omega.
Reeling from the realization that, once again, my designation isn’t the flowery romantic fantasy I’d once imagined it to be, I slide to the edge of the bed. My feet land on the floor. The cold hardwood snaps me back to reality.
Caleb says my name. His voice is hesitant, a touch nervous. “Are you…mad at me?”
Shaking my head and pasting a smile onto my face, I stand up. “Not at all. How could I be? You…I think you smell nice, too.”
“Really,” he says, touching my elbow. The gesture all but begs me to turn around. “You’re not upset at all.”
It’s not a question, not really, but I shake my head anyway. My pheromones radiate off me, practically hissing unhappily as they call out my lie. I haven’t figured out how to reel them in yet, forced into broadcasting my every mood until I can get a handle on it.
“I’m not upset,” I chirp, my smile a frozen rictus on my lying face. “It’s late, huh? You should get some sleep.”
Again, Caleb calls my name as I begin a swift exit away from the tense atmosphere. “No, we should talk-”
“Caleb, it’s fine.” My laugh is a grating, bitter thing. “Really. I just need some space, and- and time to get used to all this. It’s a lot, you know? I’ll see you off to the station in the morning. Goodnight.”
The words ring with finality. A blunt punctuation to the conversation.
As I’m about to close the door, his voice calls out again. “Goodnight, pipsqueak. Love you.”
We didn’t say it often. Why would we need to when the emotion colors our every interaction?
Well, maybe not all of them.
My heart throbs as I say it back. “Love you, too.”