The Stargazer's Alpha

Ch. 12: Silver Bullets and Meatballs

"Fine, make your statement, Omega, and let's be done with it."

I had to give it to Harold: he knew how to bring me back to here and now. Without Blake, the maniacal glow in his red eyes simmered down, to remind me of the embers in Blake's fireplace.

I sighed, because I wouldn't be spending tonight in Blake's cozy cabin, with his scent on the pillow and a breakfast together. My hand went to my forehead to shield my eyes. Every yard of distance Blake put between us hollowed me out, drop by drop, like I was an upper bulb of an hourglass.

"Can I...can we sit down? Adrenaline must be wearing off."

"Brilliant." Harold rolled his eyes and pounded on the back door. "You there! Thornbacks! Your Omega gunslinger is fading fast. Send help!"

My cheeks heated again, this time with shame, as everyone fussed over finding a quiet place for me to sit down, get me a glass of water or iced tea. As terrible as it made me feel, it gave me time to think of a way to approach Harold.

We ended on the patio in the back of the house, between the wooden planters with sage, basil and rosemary. It overlooked a garden divided between blooming shrubs and a native meadow in place of a lawn.

Breeze ruffled feathery grass, purple begonias on springy stems and lacy flowers of wild carrots. The two wolves snoozed in the shade, but lifted their heads to assess us, then put them back on their paws that disappeared in the greenery. The air buzzed with insects. I couldn't believe that only a couple of walls separated us from a crime scene.

Harold moved a wicker chair for me to sit in, and I sank into it. He took a chair opposite to mine, across an oval table, and opened his laptop. His legs were so long that when he splayed them around the small piece of furniture, his boot's toe bumped my ankle. It was hard to say if it were accidental.

"I know you don't like me, Beta," I started, but he cut me off.

"You made it sound like I actually bothered thinking about you, Omega. Don't flatter yourself."

I folded my feet under my chair. "Sorry, I didn't mean to imply anything. I just want nothing to keep you from taking the matter seriously."

"Ugh." Harold rubbed his temples. "Blake's roar got into your head, didn't it? Well, it doesn't take a genius to figure out why the Alpha lost it on the entire Grauberg when you got pushed, but you're still an Omega. I'll treat you and your Omega problems with as much attention as they deserve."

"Alpha Blake protected everyone, not just me," I whispered, terrified that Blake and I had given ourselves away. Just like Mie predicted we would. "He is very protective."

"Uh-huh. Particularly when some dirty rogues decide to pin his little soft fuck-stray."

My jaw hung. "What did you just call me?"

"A fuck-stray. Do I need to spell it for you?" Harold scoffed. "Or would you rather I call you a fuck-Omega?"

"N-no." I wanted to cover my head with my hands and crawl under my chair. "Please, don't call me any of that."

"What's to be ashamed of?" He shrugged. "Blake can't mate, because he is waiting for a perfect Luna to show up on his doorstep. His fated mate, duh! But a little, no strings attached fuck-stray?"

"Harold!" I almost burst out in bitter laughter.

If everyone in the pack thought like Harold, our secret was safe. Blake's fated mate had to be a powerful Luna, not a pathetic non-shifter without kin. But where did it leave me?