The Legend of the Alpha-Omega

The Present

Kayla turns her head slightly to look over at her analog clock as it sleepily heaves over a new tile, promising her that it is simply too early to be up. 

The block numbers creating 3:44am stared back at her sapily, as if they knew it too, was not time to get up. But it was. Her mind already raced, it already reminded her of her life’s events, it was already in the loop of handling her endless cycle, and so it was just time to get up.

And so, Kayla motioned to stand up. The creak of her cot called to her as her clock did, but louder than the flick of it’s plastic. It was a miracle, honestly, that the thing had kept up after all these years but it did have a good life there in her room, out of the elements. Kayla leaned forward to flick up the light switch to give much needed light and life to her room. She looks around as she goes, looking for what exactly, she isn't sure. Nothing is in her room but the old cot from which she slept on, a mini refrigerator, child sized dresser, the analog clock and a night stand next to her cot while she looked around the room in a left to right sweep. 

Her eyes linger on the green, taught, fabric and metal bars that keep it together. How she wished for a bed, imagined it was one. She had the money to get one. That wasn’t the problem. It was more involved than she let onto, but Kayla knew that a bed would have her up higher and that would mean putting her at a disadvantage if anyone did get through the barriers she put in place around her property. They would be able to see her through the gigantic bay window that looked over her projects. It would inevitably show her in a vulnerable state which was not what she would ever need, and so… the cot stayed. 

Idly she blamed not purchasing one on the fact that suppressant bills were a way to hide the fact that she felt more comfortable on her cot for her own reasons. It wasn’t a total lie. Her bills were higher because healthcare for an Omega was obscenely higher than that of any other designation. It, however, kept her from expressing her concerns of her living situation, but she was sure that they knew… they always knew. 

Suppressants were considered basic essentials just as toilet paper, food and water. The only items she would buy outside of her shop were her shots, canned products, protein bars, water by the gallon, oil, coveralls and unmentionables, otherwise, if it couldn't be machined in the shop, it wasn’t necessary. Chyanna and Roxi would tell her different, bringing in something new every other day if not daily, but it wasn’t ever expected, just nice to be thought of, Kayla smiled to herself.

Her eyes flicked back to her nightstand. On it there were loose pictures of Herald and Chief, as well as a few of the friends she’d collected and their eventual Mates. Pedro, who she met a few years ago when she was seventeen had just been outside her building. He crashed into the side of the hangar, the i***t. Kayla remembers just how angry she was about it too. The thought of which still made her rage about it. All of her work, just for some Alpha to come ruin it, made her crazy. To this day he swears on the Maker himself that he was not trying to hit her building, but she doubts it with every fiber of her being. There was an air strip to the side of the hangar that he very, very clearly had to drive across to get there in the first place, and a huge black top lot before her doorway. The property itself was gated too, and far enough away from the main road to “accidentally” get to, as he claimed. Kayla rolled her eyes remembering he said there was a bee in the car--she knew better. 

Pedro was very much an Alpha, just like all the other ones she shot at. But when she took her aim at him, he hadn’t moved. He didn't move when the bullet hit the ground exceptionally close to his boot leaving a cloud of dust swirling in its wake. Her reason wasn’t to take out a creature, spider, scorpion or otherwise. Her reasoning was that she needed him to recognize that the conversation they had wouldn't be one of bodies. It wasn't to say he wasn't a good looking guy, she nods at the thought. He was tall, had wavy dark hair, brown eyes, caramel skin, a five o’clock shadow that seemed to be his signature look. He was built but thin, as if that mattered to her. Overall it was his presence that bothered her. He wreaked of a certain type of charisma that screamed that he’d been with enough Omegas to know how to treat her, and that was not happening, ever.

Next to his picture was one of Frank too. He’s dressed in his Air Force uniform, looking smug. It’s the only one he would give her, actually. Every other time she would see him he would be dressed down in gym shorts and a single colored tee. He knew to contain his feet while he was in or near the shop. It wasn’t even a rule she made up, but it was one he knew and well, or so he said. Frank was taller than her by an inch, she would give him that but told him it was because of the soles of his shoes, not the Alpha wearing them. That happened to be the same day she was given her own nickname, peanut, and was glad her teasing hadn’t pissed him off. Frank really was a good guy, all things considered. 

His build was that of the usual Alpha, broad but not like a meathead. He had filled out, unlike Pedro, which oddly was comforting despite not necessarily finding the man attractive. No one was allowed in at that level. She’d watch romance from a far, allowing her sisters to take the wheel and enjoy their lives as they decided to. 

Roxi was undeniably smitten the moment she’d seen him smile. Each smile always reached his eyes. He always had a joke and tried to make people happy, even when the bets were off. He was always there for them when they needed, and that's what called to her Beta. Although, Roxi was sure he was gorgeous from head to toe, always going on about the lovely mocha color of his skin that highlighted his whisky colored eyes. The woman would dream about how beautiful their children would be which was distracting but Kayla did her best to be supportive. 

She looks over the picture again and realizes Frank’s shoes. She honestly can’t remember ever seeing him dressed in uniform, even snorted about the simplicity of his shoes there too. That boy had a shoe fetish that Kayla could not understand. What was so cool about having pearly white shoes? And why did it matter what day it was to have a certain brand on? Kayla shook her head at the thought, her eyes flicking back up to his signature smile, thankful for his brotherly love regardless.

Frank and Pedro started coming around more and more and Chyanne and Roxi noticed. There was quite a bit of fraternizing going on and sure enough they were coupled sooner rather than later. Frank to Roxi and Pedro to Chyanne. They made good pairs Kayla nodded at the thought. She only needed to know the girls were safe and no one was going to knot her. It’s all she really asked. Friend or not, they would be facing her wrath if they ever crossed her and no one was ever going to be prepared for that. It all worked out for her family though and no one ever crossed that line. Trust came from that alone and by then Kayla had just begun to enjoy her life.

Kayla smiled more. She was willing to take her guard down around them. They in turn made sure they watched out for her as they did when Chyanne and Roxi had when they first met her. And this last Heat, they really had out done themselves. Not only did Chyanne stay with her, but Roxi had stocked her space with all of her necessities, including non-fragrant lotion to calm her prickling skin. They had products now to help with a wide scale of Omega needs as Kayla hadn’t been the only Omega out there that was just done with the necessity of mating just to stop their hind-brains. Roxi, fantastically found it all. 

All the while Frank and Pedro worked on a set of outdoor showers right outside of the hangar which was right by the pool, shielded from everyone. They would have put it inside, but Kayla would have absolutely lost her s**t if they did. Heat or not, she’s almost positive both would be dead. She grimaces at the way that sounds, knowing it's the raging Omega inside of her, but it was hard to quiet when she was hyped up like that.

Their project was lovely to see and she was thankful when she wasn’t in her blind territorial mode. They had irrigated the land and handled the plumbing as if they were professionals. The stalls themselves were made of reclaimed, thick wood that they sanded down, varnished for the sake of the seasons, and even covered under an awning. The drainage had even been thought of too. Large grates sat under a soft covering she was unaware of entirely, that drained and flowed back out into the sewers her toilet had been connected to. Her family had really out done it. To this day, she sniffles at the thought. No one asked them to and still, they came. They were willing.