The Sun God Diaries
Chapter Three: Fury of the Fathers and the Betrothed Eight

“Lunacy!”

“Outrage!”

“That harlot has brought a bad name on her family and her pack!”

Those were some of the statements from my nine FURIOUS fathers as they stormed the main office of Bethune Memorial High with staff members and students alike bowing low in respect to them while looking at me like I was the one in the wrong. And judging from the scathing looks on Marissa’s cheerleading friends, it was more apparent that I should’ve submitted to her from the start.

“Principal Andrews,” Ferdinand (the werecat-shifter) said curtly, pausing to glare down at the nonchalant Marissa. “You know damn well that this week is when my son Malachi and his brothers are supposed to remain chaste in preparations for their birthday celebrations and finding their mates. For Miss DuBauer to try and bully her way to be my son’s mate is something so unforgivable that I really don’t think that Malachi should be staying here to finish his senior year.”

Oh, brother. Here we go again with this. None of my fathers were keen on the idea of their only omega son attending public school despite having ten brothers to keep watch over him. They initially wanted me to either attend the nearby Cora Mae Academy for Omegas or at least be homeschooled with the best private schools. But a few choice words from Yesenia and a carefully-worded threat of no more sex from Dad (spew!) and that changed their tune, though they still had half a mind to take me out of here if things get too bad.

And unless Marissa was willing to take a big old piece of humble pie, then it would look like I would have no choice but to start being at home with the tutors.

“Mr. Odair, I am truly sorry for what my daughter has tried to pull over your son for the past three years,” Mrs. DuMartel said. “If anything, she should’ve known that the Magnificent Eight are-”

“Wait, she’s been bullying our son for THREE YEARS?!” Exclaimed Nicholas (the hellhound who could set anyone on fire if provoked), giving me a pointed look. “Malachi, why haven’t you told us this?”

“Father Nick, I wanted to at least handle the problem myself and not get either of you involved,” I explained. “I tried telling her that I wasn’t interested in her, but with her having the common sense of a sack of pecans I had a feeling that things might escalate.”

Dominic (the vampire) smiled softly. “Even so, son, you should’ve at least come to us,” he replied. To Principal Andrews, “I think that this might be the ample time to take him to the Omega Academy so he’ll feel more at ease with other omegas there.”

“But-”

I was silenced by a look of warning from Francisco (angel) and Zechariah (dragon shifter). “It might be for the best,” the former told me. “And your friends can still see you after classes.”

“Come on, Your Graces,” Marissa whined. “I need my little twink to keep me happy and breaking the other runts’ faces in. And besides, I like the guy to be my mate.”

“Well, he’s NOT yours, your shameless whore!” Alain spat angrily, cursing away in his Scottish/Celtic tongue.

It was then Quentin’s (the demon) turn to speak up. “Mrs. DuMartel, if I may have some words with your daughter about her attitude- in my realm,” he asked, giving the female Alpha a chilling grin that screamed revenge.

Marissa screamed as my demonic father snapped his fingers and the two of them disappeared in a black cloud of smoke. “Abaddon and Azrael, join us,” I heard him say.

I heard my sadistic twin brothers whoop in joy from the hallways as there was a loud clap of thunder.

“Oh, boy,” I muttered, turning to my principal. “Sir, I am so sorry that I let this all happen.”

“It’s not your fault, Malachi,” Gavin assured me. “But you’re still going to the Omega Academy for your protection and our peace of mind- us and your dad.”

“And of course, your friends can still see you after school,” offered Principal Andrews, giving me a comforting grin. “Plus, I’m sure that the headmistress at Cora Mae McNeese Academy can pull some strings to allow Mr. Yanez to escort you to classes. And the students there would love to meet you.”

I sighed, knowing that this wasn’t up for debate. This day was bound to happen and I was doomed to leave Bethune Memorial High. “All right,” I conceded. “I guess that I had to see this outcome happen and all that. Just promise me that I won’t have to spend more time with-”

“You’re still spending time with the Magnificent Eight,” Francisco told me. “Gabe and Mike already scheduled an after-school date with mainly Yavier, Ian, and Damien at the retro diner that you and the gang like. And you know that Pauly and Floriana are coming over to stand by your side.”

I silently counted backward from ten. This day was as bad as the time that Abaddon and Azrael decided to play drill sergeants and planned to wake me up in the middle of the night screaming “You no-good, low-life maggot” for my own good. And that was before they filled my bedroom with marbles. They had missed out on their summer break for that, but they still laughed at the memory.

Quentin and the hellspawn twins reappeared with a badly-battered Marissa, who still has a smug look on her face. “Looks like her time on Earth is coming to an end,” the former snarled. “She’ll not be harming any more Omegas again in hell. Any final words you want to say to your daughter, Patricia, and Sean?”

Mrs. DuBauer shook her head, but calmly walked over and slapped Marissa. “Your brother Ryan will lead the pack when he’s of age,” she said. “You deserve this. Sean?”

Her omega husband shook his head, steeling away the tears that he fought to keep from falling as a nearby female omega comforted him.

“Son?” Quentin asked me.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Do what you must,” was all I said. “I’m only sorry that I haven’t done this sooner.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Ferdinand chuckled. “But you’re still going to Cora Mae McNeese Academy.”

“And you’re still hanging out with Ian, Yavier, and Damien after school,” Nicholas piped up. “We’re taking you back to the palace so you can chill out for the rest of the day.” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I turned to my principal, who only shrugged. Looks like my final day at Bethune Memorial has arrived, and it was only October.

************

As true as my fathers’ words, I was indeed hanging out with the Hispanic hellhound, the French-Canadian-born merman, and the dark-skinned werewolf at Tammany’s Diner (the quaint fifties-centric, Northern-Lights-decorated diner that served the usual diner fare alongside the best soul food known to southern Denver) with Floriana and Pauly joining me for company. And while my final day at Bethune Memorial came to be, it was too late to enroll me at McNeese Academy so it was agreed that I would be homeschooled with tutors and online classes.

“Don’t be too upset over not finishing school at Bethune Memorial,” Damien told me as we all looked over our menus while a silent Beta waitress served us our milkshakes. “That school can be quite troublesome at times, though we might have hired the best guards to keep you away from the hormonal jocks.”

“True,” agreed Ian, his green eyes dancing underneath the lights. “And besides, you look way too out of place there. You give off this regal vibe that has me seeing you being the Omega lord of the manors- including mine near the shores of Chesapeake Bay when we mate.”

I internally rolled my eyes, perusing over the menu. “We’re not mates yet, though,” I reminded him.

“True, chico,” agreed Yavier. “But your birthday is coming up and you never know if we can finally wed you bed you all in one go.”

“So romantic,” Floriana gushed, ignoring my glare directed at her.

“Oh, gag,” Pauly groaned. “Guys, let’s just order our food.”

Another waitress came over as we all placed our order- Yavier, Ian, and Floriana wanting the chili-cheese dog platters while Damien settled for two grilled cheese sandwiches as Pauly ordered the taco salad before I settled with a triple bacon-cheeseburger with a side of chili-cheese fries and the brownie a la mode for dessert.

“Sheesh, mi Corazon,” commented Yavier, amazed at my food order. “I’d thought you would order a simple salad and bottled water.”

“As if,” Pauly snorted. “You ought to see him with his secret stash of snacks. And fair warning, boys. Never try to take them away from him or you’ll face down a pissed-off omega. Papi and I made that mistake once and we ended up getting covered in green paint that wouldn’t come off for weeks. Mami called us both her ‘favorite Incredible Hulks,’ but we all knew not to try anything like that again.”

Hey, I love my Swiss Cake Rolls, Smartfood Popcorn, and Hershey Kisses too much to share with anyone other than Gabe, Mike, Dad, the Beta triplets, and the various maids and servants (with me always sharing with the maids and servants because they deserve a treat).

“It’s worse with his large garden of flowers, fruits, and vegetables,” Floriana pointed out. “Gabe, Mike, and Dad love to work in their favorite gardens and unless you have a death wish, you were to have an invite to walk in their gardens. Abaddon, Azrael, and Uncle Quentin tried to sneak in to steal some strawberries...and got knocked out by the installed EMP trap that Uncle Alain and Uncle Francisco planted.”

Can you blame me, bitch? No one dares touched my fruits, flowers, and veggies unless you were the maids and servants alongside my friends and the gardeners.

“Possessive little boy, aren’t you?” Damien teased me. “I want to at least fuck you senseless in your garden, babe.”

“Like I said,” I reminded him, pausing to take a sip of my coffee-mocha milkshake just as the food arrived. “We’re not mates, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

And as we all enjoyed our food and me being casually flirted by the three Alphas that were trying hard to woo me into their beds, I had a feeling that something big was about to happen- and I was going to know what was up and when it would. I needed to see my Great-Grandmother and my other Heavenly Relatives tomorrow so I can learn what’s going to go down.

I noticed that Damien tried to sneak a few fries away from me while pushing me to eat less junk food. Bitch, please. I kicked him in the shins, smirking as he winced in pain. Nobody better lay a finger on my fries or brownie. And if they valued their flawless bodies, they better not lay a finger on my Butterfinger bars.

I may be an omega, but I can fight a bitch over my goodies. But let’s move on, shall we?

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