The Omega Who Rose from the Ashes: The Alpha's Regret

Trishelle

It was the tenth day of those strange dreams with James, and each one left me feeling more drained than the last. I woke with a lingering sense of his presence - a phantom warmth that felt both comforting and terrifying in equal measure. The dreams clung to me like cobwebs, impossible to brush away completely. I didn’t know how or why this nightly invasion of my subconscious kept happening, but I prayed it wouldn’t continue throughout my pregnancy. The thought of enduring months more of this exhausted me before the day even began.

It didn’t help that Bradley had already departed to visit two other packs, leaving me alone with my unsettling thoughts. I had offered to accompany him, but males - especially Alphas - are possessive as hell. There was no way he would take his pregnant mate into packs he hadn’t personally vetted for safety. His protectiveness was a cage, albeit a gilded one. I understood his reasoning, even appreciated it on some level, but that didn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.

This morning, I picked at a piece of toast when Samuel and Alexa joined me at the table. I couldn’t help smiling as I watched my friend become utterly, completely whipped. The transformation in him was remarkable - the once rough-edged warrior now melted into putty around his mate. I could just imagine Sammy laying himself over a puddle so Alexa could cross without getting her little feet dirty. The thought was so vivid I couldn’t hide the giggle that escaped my lips.

Sammy surfaced from his love-filled haze long enough to notice I was even there.

"What’s so funny, Rosebud?" he asked, his arm draped possessively around Alexa’s shoulders.

Wiping a tear from the corner of my eye, I shrugged. "Just thinking that with you around, chivalry is certainly not dead."

Alexa beamed and nodded in agreement, her eyes sparkling up at him with unmistakable adoration. You could almost touch the hearts and stars that emanated from her gaze whenever she looked at Samuel. I was happy for my friend, truly I was. Sammy deserved this kind of love after everything we’d been through. But seeing them being all cutesy and cuddly made me miss my own mate with an ache that was physical, a hollow sensation in my chest that no amount of breakfast could fill. Which, of course, brought my mind right back to the strange dreams I’d been having.

Sighing, those thoughts lessened my appetite considerably. Now I just pushed my food around my plate, creating meaningless patterns in the scrambled eggs. At least it seemed I didn’t suffer from morning sickness - a small mercy in an otherwise complicated pregnancy. Samuel glanced at me, his smile fading as he registered the expression on my face. The concern in his eyes was immediate and genuine.

Kissing his mate on her cheek, he murmured something to her before asking if he could spend some time with his friend. Alexa nodded, her expression sympathetic as she sensed my distress. She was perceptive, I’d give her that. She left to look for her grandmother, mentioning something about checking emails for job openings.

"Hey Trish, let’s walk before my training session," Samuel said, his tone gentle in that way he reserved for when he knew I was struggling.

I agreed, grateful for the escape, and soon we strolled along one of the many pathways that crisscrossed the pack lands. This particular one led to a flower garden that had become one of my favorite spots since arriving here. We both sat on a stone bench, just taking in the warm summer breeze. The air smelled of roses and lavender, sweet and calming. A few butterflies, their wings like stained glass catching the morning light, frolicked around the blossoms.

"Remember when Rosie told us that story about the golden butterfly?" Samuel said, his voice soft with memory. "And you spent every chance you got looking for it?"

I laughed at the happy memory, one of the few bright spots from our childhood. "How could I forget? You even made me a makeshift butterfly net out of an old pillowcase and a wire hanger." The image was still so clear in my mind - Sammy’s determined face as he twisted the wire into shape, his tongue poking out slightly as he concentrated. "Boy, I was disappointed that summer. I thought for sure that if I caught it without hurting its wings, it would grant me a wish, and you, me, and Rosie would be whisked away to somewhere better." I sighed, the old sadness creeping in like fog. "Anywhere would have been better than where we were."

Samuel squeezed my hand, his warmth anchoring me to the present. "But Rosebud, look at where we are now. We’ve both found our mates. Heck, you’re even a Luna. Who would have thought this is how it would turn out? That scared little girl with the butterfly net became one of the most important people in this pack."

I smiled, trying to focus on the good, to see what he saw. "You’re right, Sammy. A lot of good things have happened, and honestly, it would be perfect if it weren’t for this baby." The words came out before I could stop them, raw and unfiltered.

Samuel turned to me, his face suddenly serious. He placed his hands on my shoulders and gave me a little shake, forcing me to meet his eyes. "What’s running through your mind? God, I hope it isn’t what I’m afraid it is?"

I frowned, wondering what he was talking about until it dawned on me. His fear was written plainly across his features. "What? NO. No way. I’m not mad about the baby. I’m not planning anything terrible, Sammy." I grabbed his hands, needing him to understand. "Even if it wasn’t his, I probably would have been knocked up with Bradley’s by now anyway. This baby is innocent in all of this."

Samuel exhaled, his relief palpable. His shoulders sagged as the tension drained from them. "Whew. I’m glad about that. You had me scared there for a second, Rosebud." He paused, studying my face with those knowing eyes. "But tell me what’s wrong? And don’t try to lie about it. I can see it on your face as clear as day."

I wriggled under his piercing gaze, uncomfortable with being so thoroughly seen. I could never lie to him when he was like this, not since we were children. He had always been able to read me like one of those dusty books in the pack library.

"Fine, I’ll tell you," I said, attempting to sound casual. "I’m just missing Bradley."

Samuel narrowed his eyes, a sign I knew all too well, and it wasn’t a good thing. That look had preceded many a childhood lecture.

"Trishelle Rosebud Thornwood," he said, his voice low and measured.

Yikes. It was never a good sign when someone called your full name, even a made-up one like mine. The formality of it sent a shiver down my spine.

"You seem to forget that I know you better than you know yourself," he continued, "and I am not buying that horseradish you’re trying to sell me. There’s more to this, and you know it."

I sighed, defeated. Experience had taught me that resistance was futile when Sammy got like this. He would sit here all day if necessary, waiting me out with the patience of a saint. "Fine. The truth is that I am missing Bradley more than I ever thought I would, and it’s because of these weird dreams I’ve been having since he left."

I told him everything then, holding nothing back. About the dreams that felt so real I could smell the pine trees and feel the water’s spray. About James and the baby and the lake by the woods. About how each morning I woke feeling like I’d actually been there, like some part of me had traveled somewhere else while I slept. The words tumbled out in a rush, and with each confession, I felt a small weight lift from my shoulders.

Samuel listened intently, his expression growing more worried with each detail. It was like that bastard was put on this earth just to keep them from enjoying their lives, to haunt them even from a distance.

"Okay, how about we head to the library and do some research?" he suggested, already standing and pulling me to my feet. "We can even ask Dr. Lorenzo for whatever books he has and see if we can’t find the cause for all this nonsense. There has to be an explanation - magical, psychological, something."

I agreed, grateful for the action plan. Sitting around worrying had never been my strong suit anyway. Soon we headed back to the packhouse, our footsteps quick and purposeful. Samuel had to leave for his training session an hour later, so he asked Alexa to help me. It was a good thing they had already become friends; this was a private matter, and I needed someone I could trust.

Trishelle

The library was quiet, filled with the scent of old paper and leather that reminded me of ancient secrets waiting to be uncovered. Dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight streaming through the tall windows. After a few minutes of sifting through a dusty tome on pack bonds, my mind wandered from the arcane text before me. I couldn’t help myself and blurted out, "So when are you guys going to do the mating ceremony? I noticed that you’re not marked yet."

Alexa blushed so hard that she looked like a tomato caught on fire. Her hand instinctively went to her neck, covering the unmarked skin there. "We’re thinking about it. It’s not like we don’t want to - believe me, we want to." She glanced away, her fingers fidgeting with the corner of a page. "But I have to let my parents and grandmother know before we do it, and he’s been very supportive of this. He hasn’t pressured me once, which I appreciate more than he probably knows."

"Hmm... doesn’t sound like the hotheaded Sammy I know," I said, genuinely impressed. "But girl, good to know that he’s willing to wait. That takes real maturity." I smirked, unable to resist. "So does it mean that you two haven’t gotten all hot and heavy in any more empty rooms?"

Alexa blushed even more, if that was possible. Her face had progressed from tomato to something approaching burgundy. "How did you know about that?" She was fuming mad with embarrassment, and it looked like Sammy’s days were numbered. "I’m going to kill him. I swear, I’m going to absolutely murder him."

"Relax, Alexa, he didn’t go into details," I said, laughing at her mortified expression. "As happy as I am for him, it doesn’t mean I want to hear about my ’brother’s’ sex life. That’s a line even I won’t cross." I softened my tone, wanting her to understand. "Besides, you’re the first girl he talks about nonstop. It’s so cute, honestly. Trust me. As someone who’s known him for most of his life, who’s seen him at his worst and his best, he’s totally whipped. And I mean that in the best possible way."

Both of us laughed at this, the sound echoing softly in the quiet library. We soon returned to our research, the heavy atmosphere momentarily lightened by the shared humor. But as I turned another page, my thoughts drifted back to those dreams, to James’s face, to the questions that had no answers. Not yet, anyway.