Page 38 of The Raven's Alpha
I was expecting to find his parents waiting for us in the living room, but instead, the space is eerily silent. Confused, I turn to Eddy, who must have read my expression because he offers a gentle explanation. “My dad was on the phone with us earlier,” his voice low and soothing. “He heard everything that happened, so I think they're giving us some space to get settled in for the night.”
I gaze around the empty room, a twinge of guilt strikes me for intruding on his parents' space. But as I turn to Eddy, I can’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over me. The thought of pretending to be cheerful and carefree in front of his family right now feelsoverwhelming, and I’m grateful that we have the opportunity to process our emotions in private.
Chapter Fourteen
Eddy Elwood
I tuck my mate snugly into the blankets in my old bedroom and sit beside him for a few moments, watching to ensure he's in a deep sleep before I venture out to find my parents.
I seethe with anger thinking about what that man said to Darcy. I'd expected some resistance, but I hoped that my explanation - that Darcy belongs to me - would be enough to smooth our passage through the borders. Instead, we faced hostility and tension.
When I'm certain my mate is lost in slumber, I rise slowly from the bed and shed my sweatshirt, draping it gently over Darcy's chest. I hope the familiar scent of my skin will bring him a measure of calm as I slip away for a few moments.
As I turn to leave the bedroom, I'm alerted to the sound of footsteps from the hallway, and I'm not surprised to find my father already seated on the sofa, his eyes fixed on the two glasses of amber liquid in his hands. "Join me for a drink," he suggests, his voice low and gentle as he extends a glass in my direction.
I settle beside him, taking the glass from his hand and bringing the cool liquid to my lips. The amber liquid burns its way down my throat as I drain the glass in a swift, instinctive motion.
My father's arm wraps around my shoulders, his wrist tracing a gentle pattern along my arm as he remains silent. As an alpha, he knows his pheromones won't have the same calming effect on me as they would on an omega, but our family bond still conjures a sense of comfort and security.
"My mate, Darcy, is a force to be reckoned with - strong, confident, and unwavering in his convictions. He doesn't deserve to be spoken to with such disrespect, and neither does anyone else. Nobody should be treated like shit, regardless of their identity or background.”
"I know, Edgar," my father says, and I feel a familiar sense of resignation wash over me. "It's just the way some parts of the world still work. The injustices and inequalities, they're ingrained and entrenched. It's a hard truth to accept, but it's one we've grown up with." My father sets his glass down, his expression sombre. "I didn't think they'd treat you two with such disrespect just because he’s an omega," he says, his voice laced with disappointment. "But I was wrong." He pauses, his eyes searching mine. "The only thing you can do now is be there for Darcy, love him and comfort him like you always do."
When my father exits, I remain seated on the sofa, the warm glow of the fire crackling in the silence. The flames dance and spit, casting flickering shadows on the walls as I sit in stunned contemplation.
I gaze around the family cabin, a wave of nostalgia washing over me. It's been too long since I've been here, and yet everything seems frozen in time. The same childhood photos hang on the walls, their frames discoloured with age. The same knickknacks Mother collected over the years are scattered along the shelves, their intricate details and colours a testament to her love and dedication.
The aroma is almost identical to what I remember from my childhood, minus the faint hint of my sibling's signature perfume that once lingered in every nook. This nostalgic comfort washes over me like a soothing balm, calming my frazzled mind and quieting my racing thoughts.
As I sit on the sofa, lost in thought, I don't notice the passage of time. It's only when Darcy calls my name from the bedroom that Icome back to the present. I stand up, feeling the soft cushions release their hold on me, and carry my empty glass into the kitchen. As I set it down in the sink, the familiar creak of the cabin's old woodwork echoes through the room. I return to Darcy, my footsteps quiet on the worn floorboards.
When I enter the bedroom, I'm met with a warm and cosy sight: Darcy snuggled up in bed, wrapped in my old blankets, his small body a bundle of comfort. My heart gives a peculiar jolt, a sensation that's more like a gentle, yet powerful tremor that resonates through my entire body, leaving my limbs tingling. It's not an unsettling feeling, but rather a deep sense of contentment and excitement.
Standing there, taking in the scene before me, I'm struck by the realisation that this might be what it feels like to be in love. My internal monologue is interrupted by a sarcastic voice in my head: ‘Duh,’ my bear tells me, a reminder that, of course, this is what it's like to be in love. But as I look at Darcy, snuggled up in my old blankets, a warmth spreads through my chest that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
"There you are, come in," and he lifts the blanket up, inviting me into the warmth. The soft rustle of the fabric as it's lifted sounds like a gentle whisper, and I feel a sense of comfort wash over me.
I shed my clothes, letting them fall to the floor in a heap, before slipping under the warm sheets. The soft fabric settles over me, and I'm enveloped in the sweet scent of berries, wafting from Darcy's presence. It's a fragrance that's become synonymous with comfort and security, and my heart swells with gratitude as I snuggle in beside him.
Darcy's warm body presses against mine as he climbs over me, his slender frame pinning me to the mattress. I wrap my arms around him, feeling a sense of safety and security in his presence. As I breathe in his scent, I finally allow myself to let go, allowing my emotions to surface like a gentle tide.
My emotions are a turbulent sea, and I'm rarely swept away by the waves of anger that churn beneath the surface. Yet, there have been times when the dam has burst, and I've raged like a stormy sea, fuelled by a fierce desire for justice. But now, as I lie here with Darcy's warmth on top of me, I'm left with a crushing sense of sorrow. The moment of rage has passed, and all that's left is the ache of regret.
My heart throbs with a deep pain, a sorrow that seems to sear my very soul. The words spoken to Darcy still echo in my mind, a constant reminder of the cruel and dehumanising treatment omegas like him face every day. My brain reels with the weight of it all, the knowledge that countless others suffer just as he does, simply because of their biology. It's a burden that feels crushing, a constant ache that refuses to subside.