Page 29 of Just Wait

Lumen comes out of the bathroom and dumps an armful of stuff into one of the smaller bags.

Standing, she glances around, like she’s not sure what to do next. Her scent bursts in the air as her hair bounces with the movement.

My nose twitches.

The first thing I’m hit with is something floral.

Roses?

Maybe that’s it.

The next scent is sweet and fruity.

It’s light and not overpowering.

Pears.

Jesus.

She smells like roses and pears.

Is she an omega?

My forehead wrinkles. Usually it’s easy to pick out someone’s designation by scent alone, but I’m struggling here.

Other alphas are easy to differentiate. They never smell appealing. They’re also physically larger, and they smell stronger than a beta would.

Omegas have potent pheromones that are easy to pick out because they almost always have cloyingly sweet scents.

I guess that means Lumen is a beta, but something about that doesn’t feel right either. She’s extremely vulnerable at the moment, and my system screams to comfort the omega.

Only, I’m not sure she is an omega.

Either way, she’s a human being, and I’ve never been able to stand around doing nothing when someone is suffering.

She looks destroyed, misery wafting off her in waves.

An itchy buzz pulses under my skin.

My instincts push me to find the problem and demolish it so the omega will feel better.

Still not sure she is an omega, I try to remind myself.

I grew up in a house with four omegas—my mom and all three of my little sisters. Because of how alpha and omega dynamics work, I know all about my impulses pushing me to solve problems for someone more vulnerable than me.

Lumen qualifies as that with no question.

I’m the kind of person who needs space to process something when I’m upset or anxious, but when something is bothering my siblings or best friends, I’m a nurturer.

Part of that is learned behavior because I’m the second oldest child in my family, followed immediately by those omega sisters. My relationship with them is completely different than how I act with my older brother. While we were growing up, he was a shithead to them. He couldn’t be bothered to spend any time with them, due to the age difference, so I went out of my way to be around when they needed to talk.

I’ve been where Lumen is, at least emotionally. Everything in me screams to set her at ease. My instincts don’t seem to understand that it’s not that simple. I’m not the cause of her pain, so I can’t fucking fix it.

She steps over and climbs into one of the bunks, pulling out a pillow. Bringing it to her nose, she gives it a sniff and whimpers.

There must be an invisible string tied between us because that sound draws me forward, even though I should be respecting her personal space.

Her eyes meet mine over the top of the pillow, and her lip wobbles as she pulls it down. “It smells like him…”