The Omega Objection

by G. L. Carriger

  The others drifted in and out. They were a noisy bunch, thumping about the house. Kevin, especially, had no apparent volume control. Tank couldn’t help hoping that Isaac would tolerate it, even find it amusing.

  Eventually Kev broke the stillness in the living room by swooping behind his brother, grabbing one of Marvin’s beloved cushions, and bopping Colin on the head with it.

  Colin batted it away in exasperation. “Fuck off! Now I have to fix my hair.”

  The artful muss of red locks took a great deal of product, if Colin’s bathroom shelf was anything to go by. Tank couldn’t imagine spending that much time on any part of his appearance, but Colin was a bit self-conscious.

  The redhead left his laptop for the stairs with Kev loudly proclaiming that he could use some product himself, and what did Colin think of faux-hawks?

  Isaac spoke at last. “He does that to distract?”

  “Kevin? Distract from what?”

  “The wrong kind of attention on his brother.”

  Tank considered. “You think he’s still trying to save him?”

  Isaac nodded.

  A wave of sadness swept over Tank. “Even though they’re safe now?”

  Isaac’s eyes were suspicious. “Are they? Are we? Am I? Does pack structure save anyone?”

  Tank thought of his own willingness to sacrifice for his pack’s greater good. Cannon fodder.

  “We are all doing our best so far as our natures allow.”

  Isaac nodded. “That’s what worries me.”

  “Our best or our natures?”

  “Both.”

  Tank realized this was Isaac’s version of Kevin’s too-loud outrageousness. Kevin caused a scene to distract others, to draw attention to himself so his brother might hide his hurt. Isaac used Omega perception to shield himself. A weapon made of empathy and understanding. He saw too much in others, understood the soft underbelly of exposure. The thing he least wanted, therefore, was to roll over himself. Hence his fear of pack. Was that the reason for his dominance, or merely a contributing factor?

  Tank stood and offered to show Isaac around.

  He tried not to hope that Isaac liked the house despite its flaws. The upper floor hadn’t yet been renovated. It was musty in that way old houses got, memories mixed with dust motes in the half-light. It had wall-to-wall carpeting, expensive and plush in the ‘80s, but it was no longer the ‘80s.

  “Most of the bedrooms are up here. Alec and Marvin have the master bedroom at the front there with their own bathroom. Judd is on the ocean side, Kevin is opposite him.”

  Isaac nodded. “Enforcers bracket the Alpha.”

  “Colin’s room is right in front of us.” Tank pointed down the opposite end of the hallway. “My room is there, land side, and Lovejoy is opposite me, ocean side. We all have to share a bathroom, so it can be a pain. Lovejoy and Kevin take forever.”

  He saw Isaac try to hide a smile. “Aren’t they the straight ones?”

  “Exactly.” Tank opened the door to his room. “You can change in here if you like, or we’ve got a guest bedroom on the ground floor you can use. I know you said staying with me would be fine, but I don’t want to pressure you.” The Omega needed to know he was under no obligation at all. He was free to choose, free to stay or to go, to bite or be bitten.

  Isaac dipped his head but said, gratifyingly quickly, “Here is good, if that’s okay? I know Alec said it would be, but we didn’t ask you and it’s your room.”

  “Of course.” You can stay forever, if you want.

  Shutting the door behind them, Isaac visibly relaxed.

  Tank felt himself beaming with relief. He loved that Isaac seemed most comfortable in his room. Probably the smell. But Tank also worked hard to make his space homey. Everything in his room, from furniture to bedding, was light and airy, in grays and blues and creams.

  “I think the bathroom is free of Colin and his hair product reapplication, if you want to freshen up.”

  They’d borrowed something of Kevin’s for Isaac to change into. Give him a break from gym clothes. Kevin was a touch more muscled, but preferred his clothing so tight that it fit Isaac comfortably.

  “Maybe if your clothes weren’t so tight you’d spend more time in them,” commented Tank.

  “Look at you developing claws in front of your man,” was Kevin’s only response.

  Isaac took the stack and went to the bathroom.

  Tank busied himself getting dressed and tidying up an already tidy room. He didn’t have much stuff. His needs were as limited as his funds. The bottom two drawers of his dresser were already empty and he freed up hangers so Isaac could maybe hang clothing in the closet. They’d have to go get his stuff. Or was that too much like moving in? The drawers of his bedside table were full and he wondered if he should hide the toys. But the idea that Isaac might want to use them on him was so appealing, he decided he’d rather risk embarrassment.

  Isaac returned wearing Kevin’s jeans and t-shirt. His feet were bare. Tank really wanted to kneel and lick them. Now, of course, was not the time for that. Maybe later, if he was lucky.

  He sniffed, cautious. Isaac smelled clean, of his soap, which pleased Tank because it meant he’d chosen that over the other offerings. “We can get your stuff from your apartment for you. Alec would send Judd or Kevin tonight if you wanted.” He hoped Isaac was perceptive enough to understand the song beneath his words. You are welcome, you are safe.

  Isaac shook his head. “I’m fine. I’ve always traveled light. None of it is important to me.”

  It hurt Tank to think on how transient Isaac’s life had been. If he would not take the bite from Alec, at least the pack could offer shelter while dealing with trappers and hunters.

  He wanted to ask if Isaac knew who was after him. But he also didn’t want to break the mood. Isaac looked, if not yet comfortable, at least not in danger of imminent flight.

  They made their way down to dinner. Where Lovejoy preened under lasagna accolades and pretended not to be even more delighted by the fact that Isaac ate two helpings.

  Max was sharp and witty. Marvin was charming. Kevin was Kevin. And everyone else was calm and well-behaved (for werewolves). Tank was ridiculously proud of his pack. He could feel Isaac relaxing next to him.

  Alec arranged the table so he sat as far away from Isaac as possible. He picked at his food and looked at Isaac with hungry eyes, but he never once moved in his direction, and he never said a word out of place.

  Tank’s love for his Alpha in that moment was all-consuming. There was no other way to prove to Isaac they were a different kind of pack than to show him. Alec understood. Good Alpha.

  * * *

  Isaac found his first meal with a pack overwhelming. He was so sensitive to all the men at the table. Other werewolves. Except perhaps Max. But Max was so much woven into the fabric of Bryan that the Beta’s quiet pleasure at Isaac’s presence telegraphed to his Magistar.

  Isaac found himself, more than once, the object of Max’s sharp blue eyes. He was grateful that he had to guess what the man was feeling. The others were all too easy to read.

  There was a general overlay of euphoria at Isaac’s being with them, a sense of pride. To have attracted an Omega was an achievement, no matter how fraught or impermanent his presence among them.

  It was flattering, although the innate sense of ownership troubled Isaac. They had said he could go free, if he wanted. He might need to test that vow. But during the meal they never once pressured him in word or deed. They treated him like an honored guest or a long-lost friend.

  They kept the conversation light and fun, talking of friends Isaac didn’t know, but in generalities so he might have an opinion on love lives and social habits, work choices and hobbies.

  Isaac tried to push his fear aside. He understood that what they felt for an Omega was new and complicated, interweaving with the greater tapestry of pack.

  It was that tapestry that int
erested Isaac’s Omega senses. Is it tight and clear or loose and unstructured? Is it rotten or unsullied?

  While they talked and laughed and ate, he allowed the Omega part of him to follow the threads between the men at the table. It was exhausting and would take a lifetime to understand all the binds and knots and tangles within the weave. It was the melding of nine adults with strong personalities and long lives.

  Isaac pretended that the tapestry itself depicted a wolf, Alec as its mind and Bryan as its heart. Judd and Kevin were the sharpness of teeth and claw, strength and defense. Tank and Lovejoy and Colin were the muscles and blood and tendons. Max and Marvin were there too, a brightness in the eyes, need and necessity, the reason to keep fighting.

  Where does an Omega fit the beast? If the wolf is the pack and the pack is the wolf, what need then for one who sees both the parts and the whole?

  Isaac smiled at his own whimsy. The idea made him feel frail and bereft. Under ordinary circumstances, when he felt formless and ungrounded he reached for dominance. But he thought that he might be too tired and overwhelmed for fucking. He hoped Tank would understand.

  Apparently he did, for as the meal wound to a close, Tank extracted them both from further social obligations.

  “Bed for me, I think. Isaac, would you care to join me?” Tank’s offer was made sweet with uncertainty.

  Tank would never presume. And he knew, of course, that Isaac would react badly to obligation or order.

  Am I so predictable? Is this how others feel when I use my Omega wiles on them? Still he could not resist. Time away from the rest of the pack and their need for his validation would help. They desired not just his good opinion but his approval. They wanted so badly for him to choose them, for him to stay, it was exhausting.

  Sleep would be good. Tank under him would be good. Just to rest, though, nothing more. Isaac felt stretched and incapable of anything more than cuddling.

  Upstairs, he couldn’t even admit to wanting that. But Tank sensed it, and was brave enough to reach for him first. Then Isaac could pretend he was snuggling for Tank’s comfort and not his own.

  They slept together, coiled and curled and mutually protective. Isaac was surprised to find that he didn’t feel any lesser for it, as dominant man or an Omega wolf.

  * * *

  Isaac awoke groggy and grumpy. “What time is it?”

  Fortunately for him, there was an amiable Olympian lump in the bed next to him.

  “Good morning,” husked the mountain, rolling over and nuzzling his neck, not answering his question.

  “Christ, what day is it?”

  “Tuesday,” husked Tank. “You don’t work on Tuesdays, do you?”

  “No. Still, I might just call and check in. Let Xavier know I’m still alive and shit.”

  Tank cocked his head. “He’s important to you?”

  Isaac paused, then emitted a surprised huff noise. “They all are. No one ever really looked after me before Saucebox did.”

  “The lucky ones run and find themselves a family.”

  Isaac’s voice was soft. “Is that what you did?”

  Tank gave him a look. “You Omega-ing me?”

  “Sorry. I can’t always turn it off.”

  “Call your boss,” suggested Tank.

  “You giving me orders now?”

  “Never,” replied Tank, quickly and happily. “Here, use my phone.”

  Isaac laughed, took it, and dialed.

  Xavier was gruff, but obviously pleased to hear Isaac’s voice.

  “Still alive, are you?”

  “Yep.”

  “Miracles may never cease.”

  “What, you don’t think I have innate survival skills?”

  “Boy, you freak out if your mixer lids are swapped.”

  Xavier didn’t ask where Isaac was holed up, he knew the drill. He did say that it would please Lavish to know Isaac was still whole, and that he’d expect him in on Thursday for the shifter mixer, unless he heard otherwise. He didn’t ask why Isaac had decided to stay or where.

  Isaac asked if Clara was all right, if anyone had gone by her apartment to check. Xavier said no one had but Oscar would. Isaac didn’t know how to thank him.

  So instead of gratitude, Isaac said he’d be in on Thursday and to give Lavish his love. He hung up, amused to realize that they used Xavier’s girlfriend as a means to communicate their affection for each other.

  “Macho is a weird thing, isn’t it?”

  Tank gestured at himself. “Never been one of my problems. I don’t need to be, no one looks beyond the surface.”

  “Is that why you’re submissive?”

  Tank looked mildly offended. “Is a loathing of your birth rank the reason you’re dominant?”

  Isaac winced. “Ah, I see. Sorry. We are what we are.”

  Tank opened his hand in invitation.

  Isaac instantly responded to the need in the gesture, covering and pressing down reassuringly with his own.

  Tank let out a breath. “Why try to justify? I always end up convoluted with reasoning. It’s like parents who wonder if they did something to make their kid queer.”

  Isaac nodded. “You’re saying kinky is natural. Like being an Omega wolf or having black hair.”

  “We’re supernatural.”

  Isaac grinned. “So you’re what? Mr Super-sub? You want a little cape instead of a collar?”

  Tank’s breath hitched. Isaac liked that. The man wanted his collar, odd in a wolf. Difficult, too, as whatever Tank wore would have to transition with him through shape-shift. Isaac contemplated what might work. The symbolism of a chain bothered him. He’d been chained too often unwillingly.

  Then he realized he was actually considering snapping a collar around this man – commitment, possession. He hadn’t even decided to stay. He wasn’t even sure he trusted Alec to bite him. Didn’t know if he believed this strange pack could work for him. And Tank would never leave his pack.

  Not that it mattered, he would never force Tank to choose.

  Tank changed the subject. Isaac realized that Tank was as sensitive to Isaac’s moods as Isaac was to everyone else’s. Amazing.

  “So, a cult, huh?”

  Not that it was a much better topic, but Isaac could roll with it. “Asshole dad. You know how it goes.”

  Tank shrugged. “Mine’s not so bad, actually.”

  “He know you sleep with dudes?”

  “It never came up. But I did feel compelled to leave because of it.” He shrugged his massive shoulders.

  “He like you? I mean wolf-wise.”

  “Low rank and massive? Yeah. All of us Depeines come out that way.” At Isaacs’s confused look, Tank added, “There’s nine of us boys in the family.”

  “Holy shit. All of you survived the bite?”

  “Yeah.”

  “All your size?”

  Tank laughed. “I’m pretty much the biggest, but they aren’t that much smaller. Depeine males, the backbone of a pack. Together we basically form this big ol’ defensive meat-wall.”

  “That’s a lot of family to leave behind.” Isaac only ever had his father, although some of the cult had pretended to be family when he was young, before his dad’s jealousy made his life hell.

  “There’s enough of them to fill even a hole the size I left behind.”

  “You didn’t want to come out to them?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Nice to be bi.”

  “Easy to be invisible. Not quite the same thing.”

  Isaac nodded.

  Tank looked at him, dark eyes sharp. “You wouldn’t have had the choice.”

  “That swishy, am I?”

  Tank colored slightly. “Not what I meant.”

  Isaac wasn’t mad. “I never hid my preferences. There was a time I thought it’d help, make me seem less of a threat to my father. Gay and not interested in any of his women. But an Omega can’t disappear
into the background. Too useful if you’re a non-Alpha trying to hold a pack together. My father hated me, but he also needed me. I kept his followers calm. They stayed because of me, not him. ‘Course, that too became a problem. He needed them to want only him, not scraps of attention from me. And I blame myself for them staying.”

  Tank sighed. “You and Max have a lot in common. Daddy issues.”

  “He’s a weird one.” Isaac was relieved to move away from his upbringing. He knew now, of course, that it was messed up. But the thing about being raised in a cult is that he never knew, until he was outside of it, just how messed up. He didn’t like dwelling on it.

  “You find Max difficult to read. Your stuff doesn’t work on him, does it?” suggested Tank.

  “My stuff?”

  Tank smiled “That Omega thing you do that makes shifters lean in and say things they shouldn’t.”

  “Oh, that stuff. To be fair, I didn’t really try with your Magistar.”

  “Max is unlikely to give you the opportunity.” Tank sounded confident.

  Isaac tried not to feel like his abilities were in question. “He doesn’t trust easily?”

  “Prickly little thing.”

  “Not so little.”

  “Everyone is little to me.” Tank gave an apologetic smile.

  Isaac laughed. “His mate’s an odd fit as Beta, too.”

  “I think it works because it’s odd.” Tank was being thoughtful, not defensive.

  Isaac lifted Tank’s massive hand and kissed the palm. “I get that.”

  “Yeah?” Such hopeful brown eyes.

  “Yes. Tank, would you mind, while I decide about Alec biting me… Would you mind if we didn’t, you know—?”

  “Fuck?”

  Isaac let out his breath, nodded.

  Tank’s face was soft with understanding. “That much of an influence, huh?”

  “I think so, and while abstaining might make the wanting worse, there’s something in topping that makes me too confident. I need to stay cautious. You affect me.”