Little Omega

Chapter Two

Scotty's P.O.V

All I feel around me is a shroud of warmth and comfort as my body's senses slowly awaken. This is odd, I think to myself. I do not feel the lumps of my tattered mattress, or the usual breeze of the wind that threatens to topple the whole ridden walls with every storm. I cannot hear trees rustling and standing its ground against the bully that is the wind. I cannot smell the must that clings to every fabric that enters its walls. Something is not right here. This is not my home.

I finally manage to peel my eyes open and am greeted with a light gray ceiling, almost white. Trying to get a better feel for my surroundings, I try to sit up and scope out the place. Keyword, try. I am stopped by a pressure in my lower abdomen. After moving the cover and pillows that are obscuring my vision, I look down and am met with an arm. I have never been in a situation where I thought an arm was this attractive. The arm wasn't bulging with muscles or overly ridden with veins. No, it was leaner and looked to be the color of a rich caramel. Get a grip on yourself, Scotty! This is no time to be drooling over an arm, no matter how attractive it may be. If the arm looks this good, I wonder how the rest of him looks. No! Out of the gutter!

The more my body starts to wake up, the more observations I am able to make. I hear the sounds of someone's delicate snores as the sound travels lazily to my ears. I can feel the panic slowly creep through my muscles as I realize what kind of situation I was in. Now is not the time to panic I tell myself. I need to find out where I am. So far, I know I am in a bedroom and I was not alone. Putting my scrawny arms to use, I slowly raise them above my head and feel the area above me. I am greeted with the cool sensation of barren, cotton-clad, pillows. It is safe up here. Do not want a mystery fourth person, now do we? Taking a quick breath, I slowly wiggle my lower half to try and alleviate some pressure from this arm of lead, whilst simultaneously gripping the sheets above me and pull myself out torturously slow. After a couple of minutes, I manage to get my body seated on the pillows without jarring the bed too much. From my new vantage point, I am able to see that it was the men from earlier. Two on either side of where I was, and a pair of legs were laying on the bed off to the right.

I feel confusion wrack my brain. Why am I here? Why am I in this bed? Why are they here with me? Who are these men? Questions fire rapidly through my brain. For now, I need to get off this bed I think to myself. Shushing all the questions in my brain, for now, I get back to the task at hand. Using the, what looks to be oak headboard to support myself, I stick my feet through the gap where the mattress and the frame meet. I slowly shimmy along to the bed frame towards the edge of the frame. I am greeted by an oak nightstand and a bedside light. Really? I groan to myself in my head. Very carefully, I lift my foot up, using the headboard as a crutch, and lean my foot in between the bed and the nightstand until I reach the frame between the two. gingerly I transfer my weight onto my other foot and slowly remove my foot from its previous position between the bed and headboard, to the soft carpeted floor below.

Even after escaping their grasps, I still feel the pressure in my lower abdomen. Dang. I need to pee. My bladder then decides that since it has finally been acknowledged, it was time to go and relieve itself. I cannot wait much longer. I need a bathroom, now. Ignoring the beautifully decorated room, I am moving quietly but as fast as I can manage. Consumed by the pressure in my bladder I failed to realize that I wasn't the only one up anymore. I am only brought out of my thoughts when I feel a hand on my shoulder emitting comfort. Though the hand brought forth the fillings of comfort and safety, I couldn't help but stiffen. When the hand starts to turn me around I do not fight it. I want to get out of this situation with my limbs still attached to my body. I keep my head down to avoid angering him any more than I already have. The hand hasn't been removed from my shoulder yet. Taking a quick peek at the arm, I see that it was the caramel arm that was holding down in my sleep. Dang, I thought I was quiet enough I think to myself. I am pulled back to the situation at hand by the soft growl that flows out of his chest. "Look at me," he says while lifting my chin in his direction. Closing my eyes tightly, I willingly tilt my head up. He growls and says, "I said, Look. At. Me."

I pry my eyes open, quieting the small nagging voice of my anxiety in the back of my head, yelling at me to run, and come face to face with a pair of completely black eyes. I am trapped. Those eyes have me caged and refuse to give up the key. I could stay here for an eternity and never want to leave. My eternity is cut short by the stabbing in my bladder. I wince and break eye contact. "What's wrong?" he asks in a voice so chocolaty smooth it makes me feel as though all my teeth will rot away into nothing.

Managing to find my voice and meekly whisper, "I need to use the restroom." Slowly the hand was removed from my shoulder and dragged down to my elbow. I felt a gentle tug and without looking up, I follow the pull wordlessly. I am stopped in front of a door and with a little push of encouragement, I find myself in the bathroom. Wasting no more time, I rush to the toilet and relieve my crying bladder. After I flush I go over to the sink and wash my hands quickly, not wanting to take up much time in here. I exit the bathroom as quietly as possible and am met with three piercing eyes. Quickly looking down I am starting to feel the panic worm its way back into my body now that my bladder is content. I could feel my limbs going weak as I offered a small, pathetic, pained smile after a few moments of deafening silence. I offer a weak opener, "I am Scotty. It is nice to meet you. Who are you?" There is a moment of silence before I hear someone say, "My name is Ryder, and these are my best friends Drake and Ashton." A voice quickly interjected, "Please call me Ash." "Ryder, Drake, and Ash," I mumble quietly to myself. Why do those names sound familiar? Then it hits me. My head snaps up so quickly I am surprised it is still attached to my neck. I feel the dread sink into my stomach and wrap its vice-like grip around my lungs. "Ryder, Drake, and Ash, as the soon to be Alpha, Beta, and Gamma? Those Ryder, Drake, and Ash?"

I can just feel the pride as it suffocates the air when I finish talking. That is the only confirmation I need. So, I, a lowly Omega is mated to the packs soon to be Alpha, Beta, and Gamma. I am to oversee this pack one day with my mates besides me. I am supposed to lead. I can feel that the panic has wrapped its talons around my body and has finally won this battle. My final thoughts as my eyes rolled into the back of my head and darkness consumed me once again is, What a disaster.