Chapter Twenty

At some point, I got tired of writing Alpha Arron so just know that Kian always refers to Arron as 'Alpha Arron' even in thought

Kian

I've never kissed someone before.

Well...I've never wanted to kiss someone before. I've been forced into kissing Jason and I never enjoyed it. He'd hold my face so I couldn't move it away and dig his nails into my skin. He always found a way to make everything we did together as painful as he possibly could. So I vowed to myself that I'd never do anything like that with someone to save myself from the pain.

But then I kissed Bridger. And it didn't hurt. It made my stomach feel as though it was doing a back flip over and over again even after the kiss was long over. His lips were softer than I expected and his thin beard tickled against my chin. I just don't know what came over me to do it, especially with how inexperienced I am with kissing. But despite his shock, he seemed to enjoy it. I wanted to kiss him again and again, but I stopped myself, settling for one of his amazing hugs instead.

What surprises me the most is, when I kissed him, I felt absolutely no fear. Until now, the idea of being intimate with someone like that put so much fear in my chest that I felt I might pass out. But last night, it felt so natural and nothing was forced; I didn't feel disgusted afterward the way I always felt when Jason kissed me. I felt nice, I felt good and confident.

I can't stop thinking about our kiss, though. Even now, as I look down at him from where I stand next to his bed. I woke up much earlier than we usually do and couldn't get back to sleep. I felt awkward lying next to him after what happened last night; we didn't even talk about it after we left the woods. So I got up and made both of us breakfast since he's always the one cooking.

It...it felt nice to be able to do things because I want to do them not out of fear or because I have to. Bridger made it clear he'd never hurt me for anything so I felt safer deciding what I want to do and not want to do with my time. It's why I felt confident last night when I kissed him. It just feels nice to be able to live freely. to be able to cook when I want to; to clean when I want to. To sleep next to and be held by someone who only radiates warmth and kindness.

It feels good to be able to have a choice. Omegas are expected to cook and clean and do everything else. But Bridger makes me feel good about choosing to do that.

Bridger's story last night suddenly pops into my mind. He sounded so ashamed as he told it. I've never seen a higher-ranking member of a pack refuse to meet a lower-ranking member's eye or have such a lack of confidence. He held his head down and his voice shook. I've never experienced that with a superior before. Bridger showed me an honest side of him – something he's clearly kept hidden for a long time. Hearing him tell me something he's so ashamed of made me feel better since it feels like I've done nothing but dump my past onto him and force him to clean it up.

If anything, hearing Bridger's story made him seem more real. It made any leftover pieces of fear or nervousness I had towards him disappear. His story showed me that he isn't as perfect as he shows himself to be. I don't feel as gross and broken next to him knowing that he's also made bad mistakes.

I smile at him as I reach out and nudge his shoulder. He's so handsome while he sleeps and I feel bad for waking him so early. He's handsome all the time, though.

Bridger doesn't budge so I silently nudge him again. He releases a soft, low groan but aside from that, doesn't move to wake up. I shake his shoulder a little harder.

"Bridger," I whisper, "I woke up early–"

His arm wraps around my waist. My eyes widen as he pulls me towards him, my knees hitting the side of the bed as I fall forward. I place my hands on his chest to keep from falling on him.

"B-Bridger–"

"What time is it?" he asks, his voice deeper than usual from sleep.

"Six."

He groans. We usually get up at seven, have breakfast, and prepare for a full day's worth of training and lessons. Today he wants me to spar with an eta. It's not the first time I've done this and one might think that, with my experiences and all, I would hate it. But I've found myself actually enjoying it a little because they're not pummeling me to force me to submit. It's as much of an equal fight as possible between an omega and a higher rank.

"You're up so early," Bridger mumbles. "Why?"

"I couldn't go back to sleep," I answer, "I felt a little awkward."

He opens one of his eyes and looks at me. "Awkward? Why?"

"Was kissing you bad?" I ask.

It's another thing that's been on my mind since last night. Since Arron and I are technically still mates and haven't rejected each other.

"Since...you know...Arron and I are mates," I explain.

"I don't think so," Bridger answers, his voice still tired. "Even as someone as religious as I am, I don't believe it was bad. Goddess wants us to be happy, even the ones who don't worship Her. Did kissing me make you happy?"

I feel my face heat up as I look away from him. Kissing Bridger did make me feel good and I don't regret it or anything. Actually, I wouldn't mind kissing him again now. So I guess it did make me happy but I feel weird admitting it. I wonder what Peyton would think about us; if he'd scoff and call me a typical omega. I know he wouldn't support this and I don't really blame him considering both of our experiences. It's hard seeing the good in people, but everything about Bridger is good.

"It's worrisome," I admit. "Peyton accused me of being a typical omega when he was still here and I'm just...I-I don't know, I'm just worried that...that I like you only because my genes tell me to."

Bridger sits up. He adjusts his twisted shirt before resting his back against his pillows. He told me he hates wearing shirts when he sleeps because it's uncomfortable and when I asked why he wears them then, he explained that he didn't want me to be uncomfortable. I felt a bit bad for making him do stuff he doesn't like in his own home but he assured me he doesn't mind wearing a shirt, he just prefers not to.

"I can't tell you how to feel," Bridger starts, "but I know that I really, really like you, Kian. You can't call it my genes or anything since there's no such thing as 'beta genes'. Were you attracted to those assholes from your old pack?"

I quickly shake my head, frowning at the mere idea of being attracted to them. Jason isn't even handsome like Bridger. He's gross with thick scars and he's always angry-looking.

"Then even if it is your genes, it means that you're genuinely attracted to me both emotionally and physiologically."

I frown when I hear the last word. Tilting my head, I ask, "Phys...I've never heard that word. What is it?"

"Phy-sio-logic-ally," he says slowly, "it has to do with your bodily functions. Your genetics being part of that. If omegas are supposed to be attracted to high-ranking wolves like alphas and betas with no other exception, you'd be attracted to all those assholes and Arron too, but no, it's deeper than that."

I think about his words as I stare down at him. I also think about how much of a staring problem I have. I hate how gullible I am – believing that everyone besides myself is right – but Bridger is right...right? I know that I will forever be an omega and that being an omega isn't just a rank, it's my genes, my psychology, everything. But if Bridger taught me anything, he taught me that I'm more powerful than I think and what I've been told and that I should lean more into my genes. My body won't betray me.

I remember the book Bridger showed me a while ago. It was an outdated journal piece about omegas since, according to most scholarly werewolves, we are an incredibly mystical species. Despite it being outdated and one of the reasons why omegas are treated the way we are today, there was a lot of information that Bridger agreed with.

According to the journal, omegas have specific traits. It was a study done long after the war when more and more omegas began to show up. They were asked different questions and given different situations and asked how they would react. The journal stated that we are the most trusting and reliable; the most forgiving and loving; the most compassionate and benevolent; and a few more than I can't remember. This journal changed the way many people viewed us and all they saw was omegas can't be trusted because they believed that, with our gullible and kind personality, we'd betray them easily.

They looked past the part that talked about our "impeccable" judgment that rivals that of an alpha or a zeta.

But I can understand that the journal author never wanted that to happen. He wanted to learn more about us, but that came with a price so costly that it cost many of us our lives. But just my ability to not be angry at the author is proof that much of what he wrote is true.

I am too trusting, too reliable, too forgiving, too loving, too everything. But the more I try to lean into my genes and my needs the way Bridger said, the more I feel comfortable and confident in myself. When I think about Bridger now, I imagine myself opening a locked door and feeling all the emotions and feelings that creep out of it. Deep down, I know I can trust Bridger, and the more I lean into that trust, the more safe I feel.

Suddenly, I want to kiss him again. I lean into do it and I watch Bridger's eyes flutter shut. My lips are barely touching his when I stop, a thought breaking through the fog that clouded my brain.

"What about Alpha Arron?" I ask, moving away from him.

A look of disappointment comes over Bridger's face, making me laugh a bit. "What about him?"

"Well...you know...he's my mate."

"He doesn't want to talk to you which means you have to be the one to talk to him," Bridger says as he leans forward. "Don't tell him about us."

'Oh...I have to talk to Alpha Arron...'

Before I can respond with a better idea (I don't have one), Bridger presses his soft lips against mine. I melt against him, somehow loving the weird sensations I get in my chest and stomach. I've never felt this before and when Bridger's arms wrap themselves around me, it takes everything in me not to die in his arms.

I break the kiss. "I made breakfast."

Bridger hums, pecking my lips over and over again. I laugh and cover my mouth the second he moves away only for his lips to kiss the back of my hand.

"I told you, you don't have to make breakfast."

"I woke up early and I wanted to."

He smiles at me and gives me yet another kiss before throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

"Let's eat and then we'll go train and we can end early so that you can talk with Arron."

_____ _____ _____ _____

"Remember, be assertive, confident, and get shit done, Arron won't listen to you if you're not assertive."

I nod as I stare at the elevator that leads to the floor where Alpha Arron's office is located. I haven't had time to shower so I'm gross and sweaty and probably smell like the outside, but Bridger told me not to waste any time. Apparently, showering is a waste of time.

I thought Bridger was going to go with me when I talk to Arron, but I was sorely wrong. He wants me to do it alone with Alpha Arron and I can't help but feel anxious. Dread pools inside my stomach and my hands grow sweaty as I step into the elevator. Bridger sends me a smile as the door closes and I can't force myself to send one back. I stand inside the elevator with no expression, my heart feeling as though it's about to pound out of my chest.

What if Alpha Arron never wanted to reject me and this talk just sets him off? Bridger assured me that while Alpha Arron is a "shitty person with a shitty attitude", he would never actually hurt me but I can't help but feel the familiar fear as I walk down the hall to his office. I lift a shaking fist to his door and knock softly, my dread burning my throat and my heart falling into my stomach.

For a second, I don't know if he's inside and relief fills me. The relief is short-lived when I hear his voice on the other end yell for me to come in. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes for a brief second before slowly opening the door.

Arron sits at his desk, casually leaning back in his chair as he types away on his laptop. His blonde hair is pulled back into a loose bun and he has a serious – hateful, even – look on his face. He doesn't even glance at me as I slowly walk in. He doesn't say a word but I know that he knows that I'm in here with the way his nose twitches.

I don't want to shut the door, but I do. As soon as the door clicks into place, I feel trapped. I'm stuck in place, my feet refusing to move so much as an inch away from the door. I keep myself against the door, trying to remember Bridger's words moments before. This kind of behavior isn't assertive nor is it confident. Taking another deep breath, I push myself away from the door and take small steps towards his desk.

I don't get too close, standing a good distance away and closer to the door. He doesn't look at me, he doesn't say anything. He keeps his eyes glued to the computer screen, acting as though I'm not here.

'Be assertive, confident, and get shit done'

I clear my throat. His blue eyes snap my way and I feel as though his look just stabbed through my stomach. I can't hold eye contact, not when he's looking at me as if he hates me more than anything. I focus on a space close to his eyes instead: a stray strand of hair caught in his eyelashes.

"I-I'm here to t-t...talk about our...um...situation," I manage. 'Be assertive, confident, and get shit done'

"Did Bridger send you here?" he asks.

I nod. "B-But I-I want to get this over with."

Arron turns his whole body to face me, his hands resting in front of his belly. He raises his eyebrows at me, telling me that he couldn't care less about this whole thing. I guess I'd rather him be like this than to have him raging at me. I clear my throat again as I think about what Bridger and I practiced today.

"N-Neither of us feel the bond," I start, "so we-we should just...reject each other. Bridger sa-said that it would hurt neither of us."

Had we felt the bond and still wanted to reject each other, the rejection could easily kill me and drive Arron to be a rogue without immediate help. But Bridger told me that the most it'll do is make either of us ill for some time until we can cope with the rejection – but he thinks that we'll be completely fine.

"Bridger knows it all, huh," Arron laughs, "and if it goes wrong, whose fault will it be if you die and my pack finds themselves with a crazy alpha?"

I open my mouth to answer but I can't find anything to say. He's right. Is it selfish of me to want this rejection; to want to be with someone like Bridger who genuinely likes me and makes me feel happy and safe?

I mentally shake my head. No, no, it's not selfish. I deserve to want that, right?

"I-I trust what Bridger says but–"

My eyes widen when he lifts himself out of the chair. He takes long strides towards me, making me back all the way up until I'm against his door. I reach out for the knob but freeze when he stops in front of me. He dips his head down and sniffs the crook of my neck. I squirm away, sliding through the space between the wall and him and standing on the other side of the door.

"Why did you–"

"I knew you and Bridger had something going on," Arron says as he laughs. His laugh isn't pleasant, it feels like he's mocking me. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "My, my...my own beta sleeping with my supposed mate, who would have ever thought?"

I feel heat rise up my neck as I quickly start shaking my head. "Bridger and I– we're not...we're not like that!"

He rolls his eyes as he sits back down. "His scent is on you."

"Th-that doesn't mean anything!" I say defensively, "just– can we please just get this over with?"

He shrugs. "Reject me then."

"I- I don't know how."

Arron sighs and rolls his eyes yet again. He looks at me with annoyed eyes and says,

"Don't blame me if you die from this because you trust and hang off of every word Bridger says," he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath,

"Dear Goddess of the Moon Isles above, forgive my dishonor, mistrust, and forgive my disobedience. I ask that you see us through as we release our souls back to you untethered, unlinked, and unbonded."

I feel something tingling inside of me as he speaks. The tingling turns into a slight burning sensation as he looks at me.

"Repeat after me: I reject you, Kian Calter."

Thank Goddess Bridger told me his full name.

"I reject you, Arron Nohel."

The burning sensation becomes far too intense and all I see is black as I fall to the ground.

---

Word Count: 3114

Ewww not the cliche fainting 💁🏾‍♀️💁🏾‍♀️💁🏾‍♀️

I'm realizing how religion-heavy this book is which is funny bc I'm an atheist 🤪