The Arrangement (Omegas of Hunter's Point Book 1)

Chapter 30

Damian heard the padded leather of the chair creak as his mother shifted. He could see her in his peripheral vision, resting her hands on her silver-topped cane. She brushed a loose whisp of graying golden oak hair back into her otherwise meticulous chignon, and cast those cool, appraising amber eyes on him. He gnawed on a hangnail. He was fixating, and he knew it, even as he relentlessly wore a pattern in the floor at Von's feet. It wasn't helping. He knew that, too, but he couldn't bring himself to step away from her. Von looked so small in that hospital bed, I.V. lines going into both arms. His mother's scrutiny wasn't helping, either. She might as well be broadcasting her thoughts over the hospital P.A. system: omegas were supposed the be the ones prone to anxious, repetitive behavior, yet here was her alpha son acting like he'd been born into the wrong dynamic...again. As if to confirm his suspicions, Minerva spoke up from across the room.

"Damian, your pacing is not a cure," she told him. "Sit. She needs to feel your calm through the pair bond," she waved a ringed, aristocratic hand in his direction, "not whatever this is."

Damian perched himself on the edge of the leather couch opposite his mother, where he could still keep an eye on Von via the mirror on the wall. His leg bounced, restlessly. "Why won't they help her?"

Minerva peered over his shoulder. "The girl is hooked into at least three different supplemental and hydration solutions and has two units tracking all her vital signs. Nurses have been checking on her every fifteen minutes. I assure you she's receiving the best care our accounts can furnish."

Damian didn't appreciate his mother's emphasis on cost. It carried the implication that who he'd chosen as a mate wasn't worth it. How anyone could look at Von and think such a thing was beyond him. He regretted summoning his mother at all, but in the moments after he'd come out of the rut and found Von unresponsive and burning with fever, he hadn't known who else to call.

"I know you were distressed by Emily's death," his mother said, "but this was a bit of an overreaction, don't you think?"

Distressed? Em's loss had left a gaping crevasse inside of Damian. "I didn't do this because of Em," he replied, tersely. "Michael needed a mother. I needed a mate. He adores her, and so do I."

"Far be it for me to question your motivations, son, but I can't help but think you've made a catastrophic mistake."

"She is a wonderful woman," Damian said. "She'll be an excellent mate."

Minerva sighed. "My boy, do you understand why omegas are claimed young?"

"No, but I bet you're going to tell me," he responded, curtly.

His mother wrapped him on the leg with her cane, making him wince. Once she'd balanced the mahogany walking piece beneath her hands, she continued, "Because bodies and minds become less flexible with age. Omegas are claimed young so the connection between omega and alpha can be made strong from the start. A strong alpha can then overcome any reticence his mate may have over the circumstances surrounding the claiming."

Damian stomach turned at his mother's casual description of the unsavory means by which alphas sometimes trapped an omega mate, stooping to rape and making the claim mid-act. He'd suspected something similar of having happened between his own parents.

Minerva went on. "Instead of finding a solid, young omega to make you a proper mate, what you've done is impulsively claim an omega a decade past her prime, and a defective one at that."

Of course, his mother had heard about what had gone down at the gala with Von's parents. Stefan probably couldn't wait to spill the beans to her and commiserate with her about her eldest's perceived poor judgement, but hearing that word come out of Von's mouth had hurt him enough. He'd be damned if he'd allow anyone else to call her that in his presence. "Don't talk about her that way," Damian growled, his lip curling.

"My point, my savage alpha child, is that at her age, the bond won't form properly. That's why she's ill, Damian. You pushed something on her that you shouldn't have, and between the deformed bond and the infected claiming mark," she shot him a disapproving look, "she's gone into shock."

As much as he didn't want to admit that her argument had merit, he had already acknowledged that their bond was exceptionally weak. He could barely feel it. From everything he'd ever read about pair bonds, he should be able to read her moods, her feelings, her desires through the bond as clear as day, as if they were his own. All his bond was telling him was that his mate was alive.

"I didn't know that would happen," Damian contended, defensively. "How can I strengthen the bond?"

Minerva lifted an elegant brow, seemingly fascinated that this obsession with his new mate had driven him to finally seek her advice. "Children, Damian. Omegas are nurturers. I'd say get her pregnant as soon as you can, but that's not an option in her case, now, is it?"

He bit his tongue when she spouted the line about omegas being nurturers. Von had more maternal instinct in her little finger than his own mother had in her entire body.

"What happens if the pair bond fails?" Damian asked, his leg bouncing faster.

"Well...in a younger omega, assuming the appropriate care were to be administered, she'd likely recover in a year or two and be ready for a new pair bond. But, in one of her years, who knows? It could kill her."

He fervently hoped that last part was just his mother being dramatic.

"And that's to say nothing of the potential psychological consequences," Minerva mentioned, almost off-hand. A look at Damian's confounded expression told her he needed further elaboration. "Pair bonding is always a jarring adjustment, because it disrupts imagined potential in the omega, dreams of university education or of some passion-made-career. Dreams that could never come to much, of course, but have a sparkle to them nonetheless so long as one remains unclaimed. A pair bond feels like the theft of an amorphous future in which the omega is in control of her own life, however briefly. That's why giving an omega mate a child is so highly encouraged. An omega controls childrearing entirely. No decisions in this are made without her knowledge or consent, because even an alpha knows not to stand between an omega and her get. Omegas are then more willing to submit to their alphas in most other areas, surrendering a future that could never be for a reality that is. By contrast, Siobhan has been on her own most of her life. What was she doing before you met?"

"She was a teacher at Michael's school," he said, adding in a bid to impress his mother, "Ancient Military History, Modern Interprovincial History, and Geopolitical Studies."

"Teaching. What a tragically ironic career choice," Minerva observed, her voice laced with sympathy he knew she was incapable of feeling. "The poor dear can't have children of her own, so she put herself in a position where she could surround herself with the children of others." Minerva let those words settle before going on. "She is university educated?"

"Of course."

"Being that she has no contact with her family, she has been entirely responsible for her own accommodations and upkeep, I'm assuming?"

He felt his eyes narrow. A lifetime of experience with his mother's circumlocutions had him convinced he was walking straight into one of her traps. "Yes."

Minerva nodded in understanding, saying nothing more.

He had been a fool to think that conversing with his mother was going to distract him. If anything, she was adding to his nerves. Damian was so tense he was about to snap. "I'll bite, Mother," he said, stretching his stiff neck.

"That is unnecessary," she drolled. "You've done quite enough of that, I'd say."

"What is your point?" Damian snapped, showing teeth

Minerva smiled. It was nice to know she could still provoke the desired reaction out of her chosen targets. "Nothing important, my boy," Minerva demurred, stalling for maximum impact, "just that she doesn't have to imagine what she can be without you. She already knows."

He was about to retort with something cutting when he felt an odd stirring in his chestwas so faint he could just barely make it out: confusion. Confusion and disbelief...and horror. It was then that he realized his mother was tracking movement behind him.

He looked over his shoulder to see Von slowly making her way across the room, dragging her I.V. stand. She was transfixed with single-mindedness on the mirror, her eyes unreadable.