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Chapter9 Our Omega

Fifteen Years Before

Harper limped along the garden path deliberately taking a route that would keep her from the front of the house as she knew from the number of cars parked in front that Connery was holding another pack meeting. She did not like the pack meetings – everyone got so angry, their voices raising above each other as they sought to be heard, and the house was always rank with fear for hours after they left, the smell seeming to seep into the walls.

The fear and the anger were because of the humans, she knew. They did not like werewolves, did not want werewolves as neighbours, did not want werewolves at the same schools, and they did not want to use werewolf businesses.

She pressed tight to the bushes that edged the side veranda as she made her way around the corner and smelled cigar smoke a moment before she froze. Dorian and Gwyn were sitting on the edge of the veranda, their legs dangling over the rise, whilst they shared a furtive cigar no doubt stolen from Connery's desk.

Dorian met Harper's eyes through the leaves, and he coughed out a mouthful of smoke. Gwyn whacked his open palm between Dorian's shoulder blades, his laughter muffled so as not to be heard inside. Dorian smothered his cough, his eyes watering, tears streaming down his face, and he pointed with the same hand that held the cigar.

Gwyn followed his finger. "shit," he sighed taking in Harper's appearance. "And what happened to you?"

"Nothing," she scuffed her toe through the dirt of the garden bed. "I won't tell if you don't."

Gwyn raised his eyebrows. "I don't know," he said, looking to Dorian who was wiping his face off on his sleeves. "What do you think?"

"I think she needs to tell us what happened," Dorian replied. "Because it looks a lot like she had the snot beaten out of her."

Harper turned her back to them to hide the tears that fell hotly down her cheeks. "It's nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing," Dorian passed Gwyn the cigar and slid off the raised veranda landing in the garden bed and pushing through the greenery to where she stood. He grimaced at the bubble-gum in her hair, the ripped sleeve of her uniform shirt, the grazed palms and knees, the bloody nose and fat lip.

"Ah, Harp," he sighed, digging into his pockets until he retrieved a somewhat stained handkerchief. "Careful when you blow your nose, we don't want you the start bleeding again."

"It's not easy being the new kid at school," Gwyn had scraped off the ember of the cigar and jumped off the veranda to assess the damage for himself. "You need to alpha up, about it, Harp. Forget that you're a teeny-tiny omega and hit back."

"Gwyn," Dorian protested.

"Well, it's true," Gwyn replied. "If she beats the crap out of them back, they'll back off. Kids this age are more wolf than human, even if they're not werewolves. They form a pack and establish hierarchy. They can smell an omega as well as we can."

"Not helping," Dorian, always practical, was more concerned with the immediate problem than the reoccurrence. "We have to get her inside without anyone seeing and try to repair this," he gestured at Harper. 'mess."

"Alright, I be look out," Gwyn fell into the plan easily, and shoved his hands into his pockets as was habitual, strolling casually along the house to the side door, he opened it and looked within before glancing over his shoulder and gesturing for them to follow.

"Come on," Dorian took Harper's hand and led her after Gwyn. They entered through the laundry, the machines eternally rolling around loads of washing, the homely lemon scent of laundry detergent heavy on the air.

Gwyn was at the door into the kitchen and held out a hand to keep them back. After a moment, he dropped his hand and opened the door. They tiptoed after him through the kitchen. Gwyn grinned at them as he pilfered one of the plates of canapes left on the table and a bottle of wine.

"Gwyn," Dorian's protest was half laughter.

Gwyn shrugged. "Why not? We need sustenance whilst we repair Harper."

They crossed the main hall of the house and up the back stairs. They encountered one of the maids and the under butler making out on the first flight and the five of them stood frozen for a moment before a crooked smile full of mischief spread over Dorian's face, and Gwyn snuffled his laughter into his elbow.

"We didn't see anything if you didn't," Dorian told them.

"Fair enough," the under-butler replied, amused. "But don't drink the whole bottle or you'll be off your face and then shit will hit the fan, eh?"

"Oh dear," the maid tutted over Harper's shirt. "If you bring me this, I'll fix it up," she promised.

'sweet," Gwyn grinned. "C'mon Dor."

They made it into Dorian's room, and they took Harper into the Jack-and-Jill bathroom that separated Dorian's room from Gwyn's.

Gwyn set the plate of canapes on the vanity whilst Dorian took Harper's bag and lifted her onto the other side. Gwyn fed her sips of wine and canapes whilst Dorian used a flannel to clean up her grazes and face.

"What about that?" Gwyn pointed to the bubble gum and held out a pair of nail scissors.

"sorry Harp," Dorian apologised as he wielded the scissors to cut free the gum.

They gave her one of Gwyn's t-shirts to wear whilst Gwyn took her shirt to the maid for repairs, and Dorian did her homework with her, before letting her sleep off the wine on his bed. She woke when Dorian picked her up.

"don't worry, Harp," he said quietly as he carried across the hall to her room. "Go back to sleep. The pack meeting is still going on downstairs, so they won't notice. By tomorrow, hopefully your lip won't be so puffy, and they won't need to know."

"We've got your back," Gwyn added from behind where he followed carrying Harper's bag. "don't we, Dor?"

"sure thing," Dorian agreed as he set her onto her bed. "Harp's our omega, after all."

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