Lights, Camera, Omega - Page 103

I can’t find anything to say to that.

“I’ve been working my ass off in this town long before I ever met you, Magnus Wagner.” Daphne pulls her finger away from my chest and crosses her arms protectively before her.

“I’ve wanted to be in a LaRenta picture, a Magnus Wagner picture, for nearly a decade before I became your omega,” she punctuates the statement by pulling aside her curtain of golden curls to show the neat half moon bite mark I left on her earlobe.

“This is still my career, and I’m still my own person even though I am now happily part of Pack Silver. I know what you all mean to me, but that doesn’t mean I have to give up everything else that I am,” her voice breaks, almost pleading.

“I’m taking the job Magnus, but I can still be your omega, and you can still be my packmaster, my alpha. You just need to loosen your grip.”

Even as I hear her say the words—I know she’s right. I have no business holding her to this ridiculous double standard… and yet my pride simply will not allow me to admit defeat.

I want to apologize, to fold her into my arms and tell her that I simply can’t imagine such long periods of time without her, missing her endlessly—on pins and needles, like a constant phantom limb.

Instead, I sneer, “Sure, you can take the job, but what kind of damage will be done by the time you come home?”

Then, like a tantruming child, I turn on my heel and stomp off toward my car—the sound of heavy footfalls and Cosmo’s voice following close behind.

The anger that had coursed through me, white hot and sure—cools as soon as I hear the slam of Magnus’ car door, his wheels throwing gravel as he peels out of the drive.

By the time I hear Cosmo shout a curse, jumping into his own car in order to pursue Magnus—my veneer of confident toughness has fallen, and I begin to sob.

I feel like I’m coming unraveled at the seams when two sets of arms wrap themselves around me—Sol and Julian place gentle kisses on my tearstained face.

Any relief I feel from their affections is short-lived, for now that Julian and Sol are close enough–I can see their own eyes red-rimmed with many recently shed tears.

I’ve been so caught up considering my career, I’ve gone and fashioned myself partly in Magnus’ own image. I haven’t considered how all of this might be impacting Julian and Sol, for no other reason than the fact that they haven’t made their needs—their wants not being met my problem.

“Sol, Julian—” I sniffle, lifting a hand to caress both of their faces.

“Both of you are so good to me, so good to this pack,” I coo, pecking a kiss onto first Julian, then Sol’s cheek.

“And I have repaid you by being a big, selfish hypocrite.” I do my best to keep my breathing evenly, despite the fact that I feel like I’m going to dissolve into a bawling mess again.

Sol opens his mouth to protest, but I press my index finger gently to his lips, silencing him so that I may continue my explanation, my apology.

“I made such a big deal about being bonded to this pack, about where I fell in the prioritization of Pack Silver’s lives—would I always come after Magnus’ career, Cosmo’s—either of yours?” I can feel my lower lip trembling, my traitorous tear ducts already preparing the waterworks anew.

“I haven’t stopped to ask you two what you want or what you need—how you felt about me taking this job.” The tears begin to stream down my face again, and I have to stop trying to speak in order to keep myself from starting to hyperventilate.

“Shhhh, shhh—It’s alright, let’s get you calmed down and we can talk this out,” Julian soothes, helping Sol navigate me inside, the three of us taking a seat on the sofa in the middle of the sunken living room.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, Sunshine.” Sol pulls one of the soft knit throw blankets off the back of the couch and wraps it around my shoulders.

“You’re not a mind reader,” Sol laughs weakly, he and Julian bracket me on the couch, each draping an arm over my shoulders.

“And we’re all grown-ass-men, we’re all capable of talkin’ about our own feelings… We just were too chicken-shit to do so, I guess.” Sol blows out a long breath, dragging a hand down his face.

Julian tosses his fall of auburn curls over one shoulder to get them out of his face before he leans in to kiss my forehead.

“Sol’s right. We could have talked about things out in the open–I know that I, for one, have been bottling up feelings of mine for far too long.”

I take one of Julian’s hands, then one of Sol’s in mine.

“What can I do? This pack means everything to me,” I sniffle, and suddenly it strikes me that I’ve never spoken my real true feelings aloud. Not really.

“I love you, all of you.” My voice breaks again, and I press their knuckles to my lips to try to stifle my sobs.

“I want to bond you Sol. I’d do it right fucking now if I didn’t think it would cause another goddamn meltdown,” I exclaim through my tears.