3/3
The Omega: Mated To The Four
Chapter Twenty Eight
The morning was cold and overcast, the kind of weather that promised rain at any moment, I stood on the porch, backpack slung over one shoulder, eyeing the sleek black Jeep parked at the edge of the property. As usual, they were here.
Elijah leaned casually against the driver’s side, his dark hair falling messily over his forehead, while Isaiah lounged on the hood, looking far too comfortable for my liking. Alex and Austin were perched on either side of the Jeep, their identical faces lit up with mischievous grins the moment they spotted me.
“Ready to go?” Elijah called out, his voice carrying easily through the crisp morning air.
I sighed, pulling my jacket tighter around me. “I don’t remember agreeing to this arrangement.”
“You didn’t,” Isaiah said with a smirk, sliding off the hood and gesturing toward the car. “But we’re persistent.”
I rolled my eyes and started walking toward them. The truth was, I’d already resigned myself to the ride. The rainclouds overhead were a dark, ominous gray, and I had no intention of letting my homework–or myself–get soaked on the way to school.
When I reached the Jeep, Alex darted forward to open the back door for me, grinning like he’d just won a prize.
“Such a gentleman,” I muttered, climbing in and ignoring the way his grin widened.
The ride to school was relatively quiet, which was a rarity when it came to these four. Elijah drove with his usual effortless confidence, one hand on the wheel and the other drumming against the console in time with the music playing softly on the radio.
Isaiah sat in the passenger seat, scrolling through his phone but occasionally glancing back at me. Alex and Austin flanked me on either side in the backseat, their energy palpable even in the confined space.
“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Austin remarked, leaning closer to me.
“Maybe she’s still waking up,” Alex suggested, his tone teasing.
“Maybe I just don’t feel like talking,” I shot back, staring out the window.
They both laughed, clearly unfazed by my attitude. By the time we arrived at school, the drizzle had turned into a steady rain. The parking lot was a mess of puddles and mud, the kind of scene that made me wish I’d worn boots instead of my usual sneakers.
“Stay here,” Elijah said as he killed the engine, his voice firm. “I’ll grab an umbrella.”
Before I could respond, Alex was already out of the car, at surprising speed.
“What are you-” I started, but the words died in my throat as he reached for me. Without any warning, he scooped me up into his arms, cradling me like I weighed nothing.
“Alex!” I yelped, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Put me down!”
“You’re not stepping in that mud,” he said simply, his tone far too serious for my liking.
“I can walk!” I protested, squirming in his hold. But Alex didn’t budge, his grip on me firm yet gentle as he carefully navigated the puddle–ridden parking lot.
“You’re impossible,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I’ve been called worse,” he said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
1/3
Chapter Twenty Eight
By the time we reached the sidewalk, I’d given up on fighting him. The stares from our classmates were bad enough without adding my own flailing to the spectacle.
“You can put me down now,” I said stiffly, avoiding eye contact with anyone.
“Say please,” Alex teased, his grin widening.
I glared at him, and he finally relented, setting me down gently on the dry pavement.
“Happy?” he asked, his tone smug.
“No,” I snapped, brushing imaginary dirt off my jacket and refusing look at him.
He laughed, the sound warm and carefree, and I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something I wasn’t ready to name. As we walked into the building, the rest of the group caught up with us. Elijah raised an eyebrow at Alex, clearly amused.
“Really?” he asked, nodding toward me.
“She would’ve ruined her shoes,” Alex said with a shrug as if that explained everything.
Isaiah smirked, his gaze flicking to me. “She looks a little red. You okay, Carrot Head?”
“Don’t call me that,” I muttered, glaring at him.
Austin chuckled, slinging an arm around Alex’s shoulders. “Looks like someone’s trying to earn brownie points.”
“Shut up,” Alex said, but his grin didn’t falter.
I ignored all of them, pushing past the group and heading toward my locker. The last thing I needed was for them to think I was flattered–or worse, grateful.
All morning, I couldn’t shake the memory of Alex carrying me.
It wasn’t just the act itself–it was the way he’d done it, so effortlessly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
And it wasn’t just Alex, either.
The others had been just as frustratingly attentive, their presence constant yet not entirely unwelcome.
I hated how easily they got under my skin, how quickly they turned my irritation into something softer, something I didn’t want to
name.
They were relentless, and I didn’t know how much longer I could keep my guard up.
But I had to.
I wasn’t ready to forgive them–not yet.
With a deep breath, I shoved the thoughts aside and focused on the day ahead.
Let them try.
I wasn’t going to make it easy for them.
