ΩMEGA

Chapter Fifteen

Kian

I wake up to warm sunlight pouring through thin curtains and warming my face. I'm cuddling a pillow to my chest. I slowly let go as I sit up and try to make sense of where I am. My head slams against my skull as I do so and I slowly raise my hand to rub my temples.

The room isn't as big as the room I stay in at the packhouse. I'm in a log cabin it seems and when I take a deep breath, a familiar rich woody smell settles itself around me. As I continue looking around the bedroom, I start to remember what happened.

I cried in Bridger's arms...

Heat crawls up my neck and to my face as I recall last night. I texted Bridger and we met up, he took me here to his home, and then I let him hold me while I cried. His warm words resurface in my brain and I remember carefully wrapping my own arms around his muscular body. I remember feeling his own heart speed up a bit before he relaxed just like I did when he hugged me.

I hugged a beta...

I let a beta hold me...

Am I doing just as Peyton expected and running into the arms of a high-ranking member just because my stupid omega brain wants me to? Speaking of, my head feels as though it's about to crack open. Probably from all my foolish crying last night. How can I cry when I'm not even the one who was taken back to our pack? How can I cry for Peyton when I did nothing to help him yet he did so much to help us?

Just as I'm about to get up, Bridger appears at the doorway of his room.

"Good morning," he says with a lopsided smile, "I got up early because my body doesn't think I need sleep. I made breakfast if you're hungry–"

"I'm sorry," I say before he can even finish talking, "for everything last night. I-I'm really sorry and... I-I'm embarrassed."

He widens his eyes as he pushes away from the wall of the doorway and walks further into his room. I don't want him to come close to me. I don't want whatever happened to me last night to wash over my brain so that I'm falling into his arms again.

"It's okay, really," he reassures, "I enjoyed the company in all honesty. And that hug...thank you, I don't know if I thanked you last night. It was really nice, thank you."

I feel my ears burning slightly as I stare at my hands. I don't know what to say. Should I tell him his hug was great too...or nice? But I'm not even sure how I can put it into words without sounding weird. Being held by him is far different than being held by Peyton. Peyton doesn't like being touched and his hugs were always kind of stiff. But Bridger's...his was strong yet gentle and I could feel his muscular build as he held me tightly against him. His deep and rich scent of wood made me feel homey in his arms and when I finally calmed down last night, his scent made me imagine sitting by a fire with a warm cup of hot chocolate, wrapped in a blanket with his scent floating everywhere. His hug was like melting in hot chocolate, like when the marshmallows disappear.

It reminds me of when Peyton, Jenna, and I snuck out of the packhouse and drank stolen hot chocolate with marshmallows. The marshmallows kept melting and I imagined what it would be like to just melt away like that.

That's what his hug was like.

I can't possibly say those things to him but I don't know if I can say his hug was nice because that word just isn't right. It felt wrong and too little.

Goddess, maybe I am doing what Peyton said and running into his arms because he's the first man to show me real kindness. Is that wrong?

"Anyway, I made breakfast," Bridger clears his throat and moves towards the doorway again.