I think that I’m sad, but I’m not sure who I’m mourning.
I wakeup to the sound of the door opening and Harry trying to quietly shuffle in. He busies about, and I listen, half-awake, to the sounds of him eating and making tea and then finding his way to the cot.
It was kind of him to let me use his bed. I ought to take the cot for myself, seeing as I’m much smaller.
What now? Where do I go? What do I do next?
I sleep late, then hobble to the outhouse, trying to put as little pressure on my feet as possible. Harry is still asleep, as early as he came home. I eat some of the driedfruit he keeps in the kitchen and then go back to bed to read some more.
I can’t stay here, living off this man’s generosity. But where else can I go? Where would I be safe? Harry is certainly no alpha—he is kind and even-tempered, unlike everything Father ever told me about alphas. He appears to be a beta, like most people. I am fairly sure I don’t have to fear him, though he may throw me out once he learns the truth.
No. It’s been many years since I experienced a heat. Surely it left my body somehow when I was in that room. I paid my penance for being born an omega, and I must be free of it, as it’s been years since a heat came.
When Harry rises, he leans in the bedroom door to wave good morning. Seeing him immediately brightens my mood. I like his smiling face that can also turn so serious. I enjoy his warm eyes and the way they crinkle at the edges when he smiles. I think he is older than I am, but it’s hard to tell with his beard.
He makes tea and breakfast, though the sun is high up in the sky. Then he fills the tub so I can bathe, and when I get out, Harry helps me work the knots out of my hair and chops off whatever can’t be saved.
Then we discuss the book I’ve been trying to read, and he teaches me how to play cards on the bed.
“Harry?” I finally ask, knowing I need to broach this subject now.
“Hmm?” He raises his head. “It’s your turn.”
I put down the cards in my hand. “I know. But…” I swallow as I work up the courage. “But what happens next? I can’t stay here, surviving off your kindness. I appreciate you for taking me in, and now?—”
Harry stares at me. “Now what? Do you want to leave?”
I raise my hands up. “N-no, not immediately, but when you are tired of me taking up space in your home.”
Those kind blue eyes narrow. “Tired of you? You are not ‘taking up space’ in my home.”
“I’m in your bed, and you are sleeping on a cot,” I point out.
“And I don’t mind it in the least.” Harry tentatively reaches out and scoops up my hand in his. The touch is so gentle that I let him do it. “You are welcome here. You are no inconvenience. I’m happy for you to stay as long as you wish, but I will not stop you from going if you would rather go.”
I don’t know where Iwouldgo.
“I have no money. No clothes. I am nothing but a burden.” My eyes fall to the bedspread and our stack of cards. “You don’t want that.”
My head jerks up as Harry leans closer to me. He reaches out and cups my chin in his fingers so I’m forced to look into his eyes.
“You are not a burden to me,” he says in a quieter voice. “I am happy to have you as long as you need.”
I don’t believe him, but I want to. I want to think that I have a place I can stay, a place I can belong where I am free.
“Thank you.” The words escape me in a hoarse whisper.
Harry simply nods and smiles, and I can’t help but smile back.
4
HAROLD
Icheck Selene’s feet the next day, and they are looking much better. As the doctor instructed, I clean the wounds and change out the bandages, leaving them looser to better allow healing. If she’s grumpy about being kept in bed, unable to get around except to use the outhouse, she doesn’t show it.
I’ve never met someone so full ofgood. She is always in high spirits, complimenting my meals, appreciating everything she receives to the fullest extent. Nothing in Selene’s world is to be taken for granted.
Do you have a wife at home?she asked me when I first found her, and now it feels as if I do. She is there when I get home from a long night of work, greeting me even in the pre-dawn, lamenting as I once again sleep on the cot. But I don’t mind it at all, not if it means she gets to sleep in a comfortable bed after years of resting her head on a bare floor.
