Chapter 3
Sitting in the car next to Hayes, I gaze at the mansion in front of me. It should look gaudy and over the top, but instead has a regal appearance.
“Your family has a long line of made men within it,” Hayes rumbles. “Your grandparents live in a wing in this home, and you have a fairly large family nearby as well.”
It all feels so overwhelming as I nod, struggling to keep my composure. The perfect, placid mask Caleb and Mr. Lars would immediately jump all over me for is sliding over my features to protect me from all of the uncomfortable emotions I’m feeling.
I’ve protected myself from a lot of things over the past few years this way, but having a whole ass family is throwing me for a loop. Silence is the only thing I can give Hayes right now.
“Alright then,” he mutters. “I’ll get your things for you.”
Not that he really let me pack much. Hayes huffed and puffed while I tried to get my things together, so I only packed my essentials and sentimental items. My heart hurts as I think about everything I left behind.
I feel displaced and unsettled again, which is making my inner omega really pissed off. I’m irritable as fuck.
Hayes wrinkles his nose as if I’m offending him, and I roll my eyes as I get out of his car. When I’m angry, I tend to fill the air with a burned sugar cookie scent. It’s not something I can control, which really fucks with my ability to hide from people.
There are so many things I love and hate about being an omega. If I’m staying in this house, I can only hope that I’ll be able to make a small part of it my own. My anxiety is ramping up, so I cling to this to remind myself this could be a good move.
“Let’s go, Aisling,” Hayes says, sounding exasperated as he gestures for me to move forward.
My things look so small in his hands. I hope he grabbed everything. I’m not going to offer to take anything from him, because he already looks irrationally upset at me. Forcing my feet to move, I walk toward the front door, almost stumbling when it opens.
“He’s not going to bite,” Hayes mutters under his breath.
“Is it too late to kill you and call it a day?” I ask, my intrusive thoughts winning at the moment. He simply snorts in amusement as he follows me. I’m capable of it, even if he doesn’t believe I am.
“Please don’t kill him. He’s fairly useful to me,” says the man at the door with a smirk. He has dark auburn hair, hazel eyes, he’s in his mid-fifties, and is wearing a navy-blue suit as he gazes at me, amused. “Hello, Aisling.”
“Hi,” I say softly, stopping in front of him.
“You’re even more beautiful than the photo Hayes snapped earlier today,” he says softly. “I’m Cian Sullivan, your father. I know it may be a stretch to ask to be called ‘Dad’, but I’m hoping you’ll be open to it.”
I nod, because I can’t stop drinking in every detail about him. I don’t know what he smells like due to the alpha scent blocking gel, but I bet it’s something dark yet comforting. He seems as if he could easily be two sides of the same coin, depending on the situation.
I’ve been dreaming about what he’d look like, if he existed, and why my mom would keep him a secret from me.
“Throw the man a bone, Aisling,” Hayes hisses in my ear, making me flinch. Tired of his crap, I stomp back on his foot, glad I’m wearing my shit kickers. Maybe it’s not mature, but he’s manhandled, yelled, and belittled me since the moment I met him.
I’m done.
My dad chuckles under his breath, stepping aside so I can walk inside of the house.
“Your mom didn’t take anyone’s shit either,” he mutters. “Hayes, behave.”
My lips twitch unbidden as he and Hayes follow behind me.
“Are you hungry?” my father asks. Unfortunately, my stomach chooses that moment to complain, making me wince in embarrassment. “Well, I’m glad I asked.”
“I was interrupted on my way home from shopping,” I murmur, glaring at Hayes. “I was planning to eat.”
“Yeah, or fuck yourself stupid with your sex toys,” Hayes says. “Is there somewhere I can put her things?”
“Sophia can show you where her room is,” my father says, a frown marring his smooth forehead.
Is it too dramatic to want the floor to swallow me whole? That’s what I get for my first foray into buying sex toys.
As Hayes strides away to find whoever Sophia is, my fingers pull my knife from underneath my skirt before I can help it. It’s leaving my palm before I can reel myself in, but he drops into a squat as if hearing it fly through the air, so it drops to the floor harmlessly.
My lips twist in displeasure as he glances over his shoulder and scoffs at me.
“Have to do better than that to get the drop on me, Princess,” he mutters. I can’t find the words to curse him out before he disappears around the corner, which is unfortunate. Maybe next time.
My father glances at me as he walks over to pick up my knife.
“Let’s please pretend you have selective hearing loss,” I beg, heat high in my cheeks.
“You’re an omega and just turned eighteen,” he says, shrugging as he hands my weapon back to me, handle first. “It’s normal, and he’s a dick for flaunting his position on it. I think a thrown knife was a perfectly acceptable response. But yes, we can pretend if it makes you feel better. Let’s go sit outside and talk. It’ll make him have to hunt for us, or decide to leave us alone entirely.”
It’s almost five in the afternoon, and the sun will be going down soon. As I begin to follow him, I shiver as I snuggle into the hooded-sweatshirt I threw on. I didn’t have a chance to change out of the skirt I was wearing earlier though.
“Won’t it be getting cold soon?” I ask, dreading the cooler air that’ll undoubtedly be blowing through the backyard. I have a newfound aversion to the cold after the nights I spent at the park, sleeping against trees or in my sleeping bag.
“I have heaters and blankets that have been freshly laundered placed outside for you,” he says, shrugging as if this is normal as I blink against the threat of tears.
“Why would you do that?” I ask softly as he opens the large French doors to the covered deck.
My lips part open as I walk outside, taking in the pristine white couches, curtains along each column, and the pretty Edison bulbs hung along the edge of the roof. The air feels warm, heated by the heaters surrounding the area, and there’s a fire pit just in case it’s needed. God, can I just sleep here?
“You’re my daughter, and this is your home,” he says softly. “I want you to feel comfortable, happy, and safe. I missed out on so much because your mother never told me about you. She explained in her letter that she was afraid of my life, and bringing up a child within it. When Bea must have found out that she was pregnant, we had children go missing from the families. Some were an attack against us, while others were strangers who saw a pretty girl and took her. The world is very uncertain, but I would have moved heaven and earth to keep you safe.”
“Mom did move heaven and earth,” I rasp, my steps heavy as I move toward one of the couches.
Slipping out of my boots, I tuck my legs under a blanket to snuggle into it. As promised, the smell of fresh laundry detergent wafts up to my nose, comforting me. Unknown scents would make me feel ill right now.
I’m sitting in a corner, surrounded by two walls, and I feel safe. My father watches me carefully as he sits in another chair to give me space, but he also chooses a spot where he can see everything.
“She was always very protective of the people she loved,” he says sadly. “I’ve asked my wife to leave our home, Aisling, and she’s not welcome back. Nancy and I never had children, and after this latest betrayal, I know I won’t be able to get over this.”
As he speaks, an angry fire spreads through his hazel eyes. A shiver runs down my spine, because I can recognize violence and death. Somehow, I know she’s either dead or soon will be.
“I’d say that I’m sorry to break up your marriage, but I don’t know if it was happy or not,” I say softly. “My life isn’t the worst that it’s ever been…”
“I don’t see that as a vote of confidence,” he growls. “You were working two jobs, Aisling.”
“My bosses made sure I took today off,” I state with a shrug. “I take as many shifts as possible to make sure that I won’t ever be homeless again, Dad. You don’t understand what it’s like to have to hide everything about yourself because you could end up in foster care, or get caught climbing a fence to sleep in a park, or any of the other things that make me move a little faster when I’m walking home late at night.”
I swear my father stops breathing as I stutter to a stop, gazing at me intently.
“Fuck, that’s a lot to unpack,” he whispers, clearing his throat. “I swear, my daughter, that you will never have to worry about being homeless for the rest of your life. Nor will any children you have, or their children. My hope is that you find a loving pack, but I know better than anyone that shit happens. I will be obsessed with your safety, happiness, and mental wellbeing. Being an omega comes with challenges, just like anything else, and you’ve had a lot of traumatic moments in your past.
“Your room is set up, yet I don’t know what you like, so you can redecorate it. It will not offend me. I’ve opened an account in your name with money for you to use. I can see how overwhelming all of this is. Please, give this life a chance.”
Tears stream down my face as I feel how sincere he is. It’s scary to believe this could all be true, that this man actually wants me to be his daughter and is excited about it.
“Ditto on all of that,” I sob, swiping my face with my hand. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”
Smiling at me indulgently as he hides the tears in his own eyes, he nods. “I’ve wanted to have a child my entire adult life. It just so happens, you’re coming to me as a grown woman, so I’m going to have to change my perspective on fatherhood,” he says. “Having you call me ‘Dad’ was even better than I thought it would be, though.”
Hayes steps out at that moment, appearing disgusted when he sees me sitting in tears. God, I really hate this fucker. Sticking my tongue out at him, I ignore my dad’s bemused expression.
I don’t think Hayes and I will ever get along.
“Sorry, Sir,” he says carefully. “Chef let me know your dinner is ready. If you don’t need me to take her home, I’ll head out.”
“Aisling is home,” Dad says as if Hayes is dense.
“Ah, yes, Sir,” he agrees, heading out.
Dad snickers once the doors shut behind Hayes. “I can’t help fucking with him sometimes,” he mutters. “I don’t know what you like to eat, Aisling. I hope you enjoy dinner.”
“I’m not picky,” I remind him as I pull on my boots, standing.
“Regardless,” he says, moving to open the door for me, “what are your favorite foods?”
It’s easy to chat with him as we walk to the dining room. The chef made a pot roast with the best tasting vegetables that I’ve ever had.
“I think I found a new meal that I like,” I tell my father as I place my hand on my stomach with a smile.
“Our chef is incredibly talented. He also made you a chocolate cake for your birthday,” he whispers as if it’s a secret.
Giggling, I watch as the chef comes in carrying a cake with candles on it and a large grin on his face.
“I don’t get to spoil people very often,” Chef says. “Mr. Sullivan’s easy to please, as are his parents. Prepare yourself, Miss Aisling. I’m excited to be able to experiment again.”
“I think he’s been bored with me,” Dad teases. It’s so fun to see the different sides of him. One moment there’s a formalness to him, while in the next breath he’s more carefree. It shows the difference in how he presents himself to the world.
“Absolutely not,” Chef scoffs, placing the cake in front of me. “Happy birthday, Miss Aisling. I look forward to many more birthdays with you living here.”
Grinning, I blow out my candles happily.
After having a slice of cake, I find myself beginning to yawn.
“I think you’ve had a really busy day,” Dad says with a grin. “I’ll show you to your room.”
As we walk, he rubs the back of his neck as if worried he’s about to upset me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as he walks me up a flight of stairs.
“I have a meeting that’s going to take me out of town for a few days, and I won’t be able to get out of it,” he grunts. “My parents are currently on a cruise, or I wouldn’t worry so much about leaving you.”
“I’ve been living alone for a long time,” I tell him. “I can cook, find my way around the house, and generally take care of myself.”
“I know,” he groans. “I really don’t want to leave. There are guards on the property, but they’ll stay outside. I usually release the staff while I’m gone, and while I could have them stay—”
“For me? No,” I tell him, shaking my head. “I’m sure they work hard in a house this size, they don’t need to stay. I’m fine.”
I understand having commitments, and to be honest, I’m going to need some time to wrap my head around all of this. Unwinding in my room is exactly what the omega’s doctor recommends, if such a thing existed.
“Well,” he says slowly, “I’m still going to worry. My cell service will be spotty, but I’d like your phone number, please. There’s always more than enough food in the fridge, and I heard Chef mention that he’s currently prepping a few grab-and-go meals as well. Now, here is the bank card as well as my credit card for anything you need. This includes updating your bedroom. Seriously, it’s important to me.”
Standing outside of the room that’s meant to be mine, I sigh as I open the door. The sun went down while we ate and talked, and Dad turns on the light to illuminate the space.
“I’ll text myself from your phone, while you explore,” he prods. The fact that it’s large enough to need exploring makes me concerned, though I hand him my phone anyway.
“I’m attached to it,” I warn him with a small smile. “It still has all of Mom’s voice memos and texts on it. I didn’t want to lose them.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he promises. “I also won’t offer to buy you a new one, since I know the sentimental value.”
“Thank you,” I say with a nod, walking inside.
My mouth drops as I see that it is easily the size of my last apartment. There’s a sitting area, a television, a bed, and a connecting bathroom as well.
“This is an awkward conversation to have with my daughter,” Dad grunts as he steps into the room. “Your bosses, the beta and the alpha are they—”
“Just friends,” I quickly tell him, opening the closet door. “Holy shit, this is huge!”
The room has shelving units all the way down the walls, with places for clothing and shoes. There’s way more space than my meager belongings can fill, that’s for sure. There’s also a full mirror, vanity, and stool for me to put my makeup on and do my hair. What really has my mind turning, is the huge open area that I can turn into a nest.
“You just turned eighteen,” he reminds me. “This room is scent free, locks in scents, and is also soundproof.”
For when I have my heats. God, this man thought of everything.
“Again, I know it’s awkward to discuss, but I want to be prepared for every eventuality,” he mutters. “I want you to know that I’m perfectly fine with you dating, I just want you to be safe. If anyone ever hurts you, I will gut them, feed them to the pigs, and no one will ever be the wiser.”
“Probably good that I’m not planning on dating my employers,” I mutter. “Though, not because they’d ever hurt me. Instead, because shit happens and if we ever broke up, I’d be terrified of the consequences.”
“I call them positive influences for people to act right,” Dad says with a smirk. “Here are the cards that I told you I had for you.”
He hands me back my phone and the credit cards, which I take, because I don’t know how to deny him without hurting his feelings.
Leaving the closet, I gaze at the blackout curtains, the pretty teal wallpaper, and the giant bed waiting for me to faceplant into. I can only imagine how nice the carpet will feel under my toes as well.
“This room is incredible,” I whisper. “I don’t think I’d change anything except add a few things for my closet. I’m in awe.”
“I didn’t have much time to get things organized, but thankfully it’s as if this room was created for you,” he says. “When I started looking for you, I also began to plan as well. I remodeled all of this, hopeful I’d find you one day.”
I can’t believe I could have ever gotten this lucky with this man.
“Thank you for looking for me,” I rasp, walking into his arms when he opens them to hug me tightly.
“There’s a fridge in the closet already full of drinks and snacks,” he says softly. “Please do some online shopping while I’m gone. It’ll make me happy, okay?”
Nodding, I step back and say goodnight, watching as he leaves.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, feeling the pull of sleep. I usually have more stamina during the day, but maybe I’m catching a cold?
As I locate my large backpack, I pull out my sweats to wear to bed. The room is set to a comfortable temperature, though I notice I can change it from the comfort of a remote. I’m impressed with the attention to detail in this home, especially as I walk into the bathroom and realize the floors can be heated.
There are bath and self care products in the shower, and I’m nearly falling asleep by the time I get dressed and squeeze the moisture from my hair, so my pillow won’t be damp. God, that’s the worst.
Brushing my teeth is a struggle, but I manage before I drag my feet into the bedroom. I can see my shopping bags on the floor by my backpack as I pass them, which makes me glad that Hayes didn’t toss it in the trash.
I’ll put all my belongings away tomorrow, even though I’m itching to do it now.
Unfortunately, my exhaustion wins, and I really do faceplant into my pillows and fall asleep.
I just need a little rest.
I have no idea what time it is when a tearing, awful pain rips through my stomach. All I know is that there’s sunlight streaming through the window, which is hurting my overly sensitive eyes.
My body feels as if it’s on fire, my pants and sheets are soaked with slick, and I’m whimpering with need.
Whining, I pull off my clothes to attempt to cool down as I flop around on the bed, but it does nothing to help. Every light is still on in the bedroom, and I find my body curling around itself to attempt to escape the gnawing sensation that something is wrong with me.
“Knot,” I whisper, eyes widening as I realize what this is. “God, no.”
Whimpering as I drag myself from the bed, I roll off onto the floor. My body complains a bit, and I’m sure I’ll be sore once this is over. I don’t care. There’s not an alpha knot in sight, outside of the synthetic dildos I bought.
“Look who’s gonna fuck herself stupid now?” I say to myself, feeling wild and out of control. I can see the face of a stupid, cocky alpha, and I’m fully prepared to use him as erotic material to make myself come apart.
His pretty, thick arms alone are enough to make me keen, wondering if he’s strong enough to throw me around when he fucks me. All of these thoughts are due to my heat induced sexual fog, because I’m a virgin.
Unfortunately, as I crawl naked toward my bag of sex toys, I can’t seem to care.
If he was here, I would beg for his knot to fill my pussy. Slick slides down my thighs. My mind is spinning, and as a cramp comes over me, I scream. These pains are going to rip me apart.
“I’m not strong enough for this,” I scream again as tears roll down my face. My fingers reach out to pull a shopping bag to me, and I upend it in an effort to find something to help me. “Please, please, where are you?!”
It’s probably just as well that I’m all alone in this house, because I’m unraveling quickly.
There is my fluffy blanket, a candle, but nothing else in the bag. Breaths coming faster, I upend the next, only to find a book, a pocket knife and a note that reminds me that only whores need sex toys.
“I’ll damn well be a whore if I can come,” I groan, closing my eyes against the betrayal I’m feeling. I trusted Hayes to bring my fucking things inside, but instead he decided to steal my shit.
“I hate it here.”
Struggling, I pull the blanket and candle into the closet with me, grabbing the pocket knife as a second thought. If it gets too bad, I’ll use it to stab myself. At least then, I’ll feel peace, silence, and nothingness.Nôvel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.
If I get really lucky, maybe I’ll get to see Mom. God, I miss her so much. My thoughts get really bleak as I shove my nose into the candle, inhaling it as if it’s crack. The label said it’s called Witches Brew, and it was on clearance.
The notes of cinnamon, jasmine, and patchouli are unfortunately no match for the emptiness I’m feeling.
Tossing away the candle, I ignore where it rolls, deciding to masturbate instead. Over and over, I writhe in pain, my vocal cords straining as I scream in frustration and unending rage. Nothing is working. I’ve heard of packless omegas taking medication to knock them out during the duration of their heat, but thought it was just a rumor.
I don’t think that anything could be this bad. I was so incredibly wrong. I never want to do this again. Not ever.
The knife looks better and better as the hours pass. As I reach out for it, my eyes roll back and I convulse sharply from lack of water and food. The blackness that greets me is a blessing as it beckons. Why didn’t anyone ever warn me that you could die during this heat?
I don’t ever want to wake up if it means pain like this. I can’t bear it.