Chapter Fifteen

It was the middle of the week, and the middle of the day, as I flipped through the electronic textbook on my laptop. Han was working at his desk, the two of us in an easy, comfortable silence.

That was when the door slammed open. I screamed, the sound loud and short as I recognized the blond alpha in the doorway.

Han jerked up from his seat, the chair sliding back and slamming into the wall at the sudden intrusion. “Holy shit, Seb. Ever heard of knocking? Or entering the room like a normal person without threatening to break my door off the hinges?”

It was weird to hear my posh alpha cuss, and I had to work to hide my smile. Seb had definitely startled Han, and the alpha was not taking it well.

I moved next to him, wrapping my arms around him and tucking my face against his chest. The tension seemed to drain out of him as he wrapped his arms around me.

“I think it’s time for a break,” Han said, his words muffled as he spoke them against the top of my head.

“It definitely is because Hannah and I have a date.”

My head jerked up, barely missing Han’s face, as I turned to look at my blond alpha. “A date?”

“Yep.”

“What about work?”

“Done for the day. Any more questions?”

“Where are we going?” All sorts of ideas came to mind, and I tried to remember if Seb had hinted at anything in particular these last few days.

“Get changed. We’re getting all dressed up.”

I ran out of the room, racing up the stairs to find something to wear. Dressed up. Like dolled up. Fancy. Definitely a dress then. It was the afternoon which made me wonder if maybe there was a formal limit, but then again, if we were planning to drive a few hours to get there, maybe not.

Pulling out several outfits, I mixed and matched shoes and tights and dresses. I wasn’t sure whether the tights should blend in, just providing warmth, or if I wanted them to be a statement piece.

When none of the outfits fit my mood, I pulled out a dress I’d overlooked because it was long. To my surprise, the length was more of an illusion. All black, the bottom part was sheer, great for showing off my legs. The top was a one-piece bodysuit, the heart-shaped neckline continued down the stomach, the sides cut out to truly accentuate the heart, and coming together between my legs. It had thin straps that I could have probably tucked in and gone strapless, but I liked them out.

I made sure to put some of the special jelly on my thighs since they were going to be rubbing together with each step. It had a slight smell to it that made me wrinkle my nose, but it wasn’t an option unless I wanted to chafe.

I grabbed my boots and then made my way down the stairs, feeling an extra bounce in my step. Dressing up was fun. It might be unusual for my outfit to lack any fun colors, but the sexy cute style more than made up for it—especially after I’d added a studded choker.

Standing up, I bent over to hide the laces in the boots, wanting a sleeker look, only to hear, “Goddamn, princess,” from behind me.

Just for fun, I shook my hips, knowing my ass looked good in the outfit. My cheeks might have been covered, but only barely in the one-piece dress, and the sheer outer layer wasn’t hiding anything.

Warm hands cupped my ass, the scent of fresh guava, like the kind you just cut open, mixed with the sea salt hint from his arousal surrounded me. The thickness of his member was obvious too, creating a flurry of excitement in my lower stomach.

“You’re lucky we have a reservation, or we’d never leave the house.”

I laughed, standing up and only slightly swaying from all the blood that rushed to my head. Seb chuckled, grabbing onto my biceps to help steady me. I flashed him a smile as thanks and he leaned down to kiss me, taking his time, slowly exploring my mouth.

His hand tightly wrapped around mine, he pulled me to his car. Just as large as Zeke’s, yet missing a huge table in the back taking up space, Seb’s car was slightly fancier. The seats a nicer fabric, the center console more elegant, and even the ride seemed smoother.

“What made you decide on today?” I asked.

“I booked this date a while ago actually. I just figured you’d rather it be a short surprise.”

I nodded, “You assumed right.”

My leg was already bouncing in anticipation of where we were heading. I tried to distract myself by asking about my mate. He told me all about how he was raised, with etiquette lessons in sitting and dining and greeting people. Despite how much he admitted breaking away from that harsh mold his parents cast him in, I could still see some of it in him.

His perfect posture even while driving, the way he spoke, his words never mumbled or unclear. Even compared with Han, there was something just … formal about Sebastian.

“Did you ever like it?” I asked him.

“Like what?”

“The formal attire. The fancy dining and being waited on hand and foot.”

“It has its perks. I never grew up worried about food on the table or whether I’d get gifts for the holidays. But I also wasn’t allowed to talk to other kids my mother saw as ‘beneath us’. I wasn’t just encouraged to be proper, I was punished if I wasn’t. When it’s a choice, I have no issue occasionally making it. But my life was dictated too closely, I never felt like I was free … like I had a choice in anything.”

I felt the frustration at his past in his words. Or maybe it was my own understanding that helped me to relate to him. “Do you feel like you have plenty of choices now? Enough freedom?”

“I do. I remember when we first started courting you, back when you were still living at the OC and hiding your involvement with the designation movement. It was the first time that I wished I was back to getting everything I wanted.”

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head, a smile pulling at his lips like he was thinking of a fond memory. My mate was absolutely gorgeous, even from the side profile as he drove. I had never really been interested in cars, or got the appeal of men driving them, but seeing Seb’s face, his long fingers on the wheel, completely relaxed and in control, yeah, there was something incredibly sexy about the image.

“We weren’t particularly interested in finding an omega, but my mother had arranged for us to get our scents documented for the OC. At the time, it was better to just let her think she was getting her way since we never figured we’d actually court anyone.”

Omegas at the OC were required to go through all the scents of potential alphas to find the right pack. Technically, we weren’t forced to pick one. Even so, the betas watched as we sniffed at the swatches covered in alpha scents, and if we had a particularly strong reaction, the omega would find themselves with a date.

I didn’t remember scenting my pack, but considering how much I loved their scents, and remembering how much I hated smelling the swatches, I could imagine being shocked at the scents for this pack. I imagined being caught unaware of how much I enjoyed their combined smell that the beta watching me would have run off with excitement at the chance to pack me up.

“As soon as we met you, I think we all knew we wanted you,” Seb continued. “You, princess, were not as immediately convinced. You liked our scents well enough, but I remember you telling us that if you were ever in a freak accident, and you lost your nose, you’d still want to love your pack.”

“Would losing a nose stop your sense of smell?” I asked. “Like, if your nostrils were flat on your face, would your sense of smell be the same?”

“That’s a complicated answer. Technically your nose does have some olfactory senses, although the majority of your ability to smell comes from the direct connection of the smell receptors in the nose reaching up to the brain.”

The answer didn’t really answer the question for me, but I nodded anyways.

“Anyways, we courted you for a while. Obviously, our charms worked in the end.” He glanced over at me quickly, winking in a way that had me rolling my eyes at him.

“Will you tell me more about your job?”

Even though I already knew it, hearing Seb describe his work was unavoidable proof that my mate was incredibly smart. When he said he did years of schooling, I realized then that he wasn’t exaggerating. I figured that he went into a scientific discipline because he wanted to prove to himself that he was enough. After all, he needed more than money to get into his current field.

I was proud, and slightly envious that he was able to break free of his gilded cage. That was what I wanted for myself.

When Seb finally parked the car, I still didn’t have a clue where we were. The building was huge, and even the car port was fancy with several people in tailored suits waving cars in, opening doors, and even acting as guides.

I half-jumped when my door was opened by someone not Sebastian. The female smiled at me, offering me her hand to help me out of the car. Her suit was obviously tailored to her body and considering how good she looked, it made me think that I might’ve wanted to start wearing suits. Not the shirt part underneath, just the pants and coat combo would be perfect.

“How are you doing today?” the beta asked. Her eyes flared when she caught my scent, quickly dropping my hand and taking a half-step away.

“Just dandy,” I told her. My mate came around the car to pull me close to him.

“If you’ll follow me.” She led us to an elevator, even getting in to press the button for us which I thought was kind of funny. The small space was just as elegant as the garage, which was making me even more curious about what we were doing.

Was this an event or a restaurant? Because I was hoping food would be there. Even if it was little samples or something.

I probably should have told Seb that Han and I had worked right through lunch. My excitement about the date had distracted me from my hunger, but it was now nudging my stomach with its little reminders.

The elevator ride was dramatically long.

When the doors opened, the beta held her arm out in front to stop the doors from closing on us and said, “Enjoy the show.”

Show. That caught my attention.

Sebastian chuckled softly, pulling me further into the room. It was crowded, although not in a need to push anyone out of the way. Along the floor was a literal red carpet that was meant to act as a walkway. Along both sides of it, people and couples conversed, standing around in nice clothes that no one else accidentally matched.

The ceiling was high, showing off that this level was more like two floors rather than one. I could see there was a sort of balcony along the wall with some chairs and tables already set up. Dangling from the ceiling was probably the world’s largest golden chandelier with enough arms and flame-shaped bulbs that I’d hate to be the person who was in charge of keeping that clean.

We continued following the red carpet, even going up the stairs toward the balcony. I wanted to lean down and pull at the carpet to see if it was glued down to the stairs. It was so perfectly folded over each lip that I was impressed and curious as to how they cleaned it.

“What is this show?” I asked, whispering as Seb helped me into a seat.

The table was small, the light golden cloth laid over it bare of any food. Seb sat on one side of the table and me on the other, the railing in front of us teasing me to lean over it and see just how high we were.

A loud screeching sound pulled my attention back over to Seb who was dragging the table off to the side and moving his chair closer to me. I smiled widely, loving how dramatic and disruptive it was yet he didn’t even care that people were glaring, scoffing at us under their breath.

“That’s better,” Seb said once his chair was so close his thigh pressed against mine.

“What is this exactly?”

“You’ll see.”

I groaned, but then someone behind us cleared their throat to get our attention.

“I’ll be your waiter for the day,” the male said. He was young, and his suit was less security and more server. The back of his coat had a weird flair, and the white undershirt had a stiff collar that was flicked up around his neck. “Are there any allergies the chef needs to be alerted to?”

“None,” Seb said.

The waiter nodded and left and then Seb leaned in, whispering, “This food is going to be fancy, which is code for tiny yet overpriced. If you’re still hungry later, we’ll get a snack on the drive home.”

“How fancy is fancy?”

“Think potatoes, whipped so they’re a puree on top of the most delicious bite of steak. You’ll want more, but that’ll be the entire course until the next tiny portion comes along.”

My mouth was already watering at Seb’s talk of food.

His hand landed on my thigh, the heat from him easily penetrating through the thin sheer fabric over my legs. Each finger slowly started squeezing, his pinky dangerously close to my core.

Leaning closer to me, so close that his lips bumped the shell of my ear with each word, he said, “Spread your legs just a little, princess.”

I obeyed, and his hand moved higher up my thigh, and then settled. Every finger seemed to have a direct line to my arousal, and each slight movement, each simple twitch was a tease. My perfume was only barely tainting the air, and I hoped since we were mostly around betas that they wouldn’t notice even that much.

Eventually, the waiter came back with drinks for us in gold glasses. The first sip of my drink was bitter. I did my best to hide my distaste as the waiter left and I balanced the glass on my knee.

“Here, try mine,” Seb said, plucking my drink from my grip and shoving his own in my hand before I could argue. His drink was a slightly darker color than mine had been, and I was hesitant to take a sip. But when I did, the flavors burst on my tongue. I almost moaned at the taste, and I had to force myself to lower my hand so I didn’t chug it all. “Better?”

“Much,” I agreed.

The lights on the chandelier finally dimmed, and the audience became hushed. Below the railing, on the ground level, I could see a beautifully decorated floor mosaic. Small tile pieces were part of the ground, growing and spiraling into flowers, so long as those flowers were golden. It was an elegant beauty, the kind of beauty you knew was created for the space, not the kind that was so beautifully done that the location just had to include it.

With the quiet pressing down on everyone, the sounds of steps and something else were clearly audible. I watched as several chairs were set up in the center of the floor, along with a giant sleek golden piano. Several people were pushing it, and then bending down to mess with the legs. Finally, someone came out and set a bench down in front of the piano and then everyone left again.

The anticipation was killing me. My foot was bouncing, unable to hold still in these teasing moments before the surprise truly began. I felt like I wasn’t breathing enough, trying to stay quiet with the rest of the audience. I was even leaning forward, closer to the railing, blatantly ignoring my mate as I waited to see what would happen.

More footsteps.

This time, people came out in elegant clothes, more than just the black outfits that forced employees into the background. They held instruments—all but one who made their way to the bench in front of the piano.

The audience seemed to settle. The quiet was no longer dramatic but patient.

As they settled into their seats, I admired the way they caressed their instruments. Every movement seemed purposeful. They looked like they’d been created for this exact thing, their muscles formed simply to hold up whatever instrument they needed. Their straight backs, crossed ankles, all of it was second nature to playing.

And then they started.

Slow and soft. Not startling anyone with a dramatic piece.

They played and I was sucked in.

Music wasn’t something I ever really thought about. It existed and I liked it, but this was completely different to the everyday songs I listened to or heard. Without words, yet I could feel the story. The sounds weren’t telling, merely pushing and pulling and swinging the narrative along.

So ingrained in their minds, there were no stands for reading the notes. Everything they played, they had memorized, and that somehow made everything even more beautiful.

As the first piece died down, I started clapping. My hands were the only noise echoing throughout the room. I didn’t care.

Beside me, Seb chuckled, and when I finally stopped, he grabbed my hands, pulling them to his lips to kiss.

The next song started and at some point, the waiter started dropping off the courses. Seb was right when he said they were tiny. Some were only two bites, although we did get a few bigger ones which took maybe four bites.

Seb was also right that they were delicious. Everything was perfectly cooked. Every bite had me wishing for more, yet there were only the tiny portions before our plates were yanked away and the next was appearing.

I wondered if the point of the small portions was to keep the distractions minimal while we listened to the music. The few bites of food were enough to keep us sidetracked from our hunger without pulling too much of our attention toward our plates.

When we finally reached the dessert portion, I had tears in my eyes, and I was trying to be subtle and quiet about how clogged my nose was from trying to stop myself from bawling.

I’d never read … listened to … experienced a story that didn’t end happily. In this one, there was only sadness and despair and longing. It broke my heart. A part of me was angry that this story didn’t end in a positive light, and yet, I understood that it only made it more real.

They finished without a flair, ending on notes so low that I knew the story would never fully be as happy as it was in the beginning. The lights came on, and the musicians stood, bowing to the very calm clapping of the audience.

I didn’t bother with the polite tapping of hands, I banged mine together, ensuring everyone knew that I fucking loved the show.

The woman with the cello glanced up, her gaze somehow managing to find mine almost instantly.

I blushed, wondering if she too thought I was callous and loud like literally everyone else in the building. I didn’t care, though. I absolutely loved the performance, and I was going to show my love the way normal people did, not the fancy people who considered this their due because they paid. Well, I didn’t pay for shit.

Once the musicians left the floor, the audience began talking again. They weren’t loud like a mall or public space, however, it was more than obvious that a lot of personal conversations were happening.

“What did you think?” Seb asked, handing me a swatch of fabric from his jacket pocket.

I dabbed the cloth under my eyes, wanting to blow my nose in it but figuring that would be rude. “It was amazing. So sad, yet amazing.”

“Pardon the interruption.” Seb and I both turned to see our waiter again, empty handed to my disappointment. “Olivia Grace has requested to meet you both.”

Was that the cellist I’d made eye contact with? Or were we in trouble because I’d clapped too loud? Could you be in trouble for that?

Sebastian didn’t seem worried, so I let him pull me up from the chair, wrapping my arm around his elbow as we followed the waiter. If I was honest, I was still feeling slightly hungry. Not starving, although I knew I’d need a snack before bed.

We went down the stairs and then veered off the red carpet in the direction that the instruments were carried off in.

The doors we passed through blended in with the walls, sliding to the side as they opened like a secret passageway. Immediately, the high-class vibe of the room disappeared. The hall was still clean, but it lacked the golden touches, the over-the-top decorations that no one seemed to compliment because they simply expected it to exist.

My eyes ached with how bright the hall was, and I relied on Seb’s nearness to guide me where I needed to be as I fought with my eyelids to open against the onslaught of potential blinding. Omegas were said to be sensitive to bright lights, that’s why we required dim and dark in our nest. Most alphas considered this a weakness, as proof that we weren’t meant to be out in public.

I always thought it simply showed weakness on the betas and alphas. They enjoyed the brighter lights because they needed them to see. Omega eyesight was superior enough to be satisfied by the low settings.

All of my thoughts about designations disappeared as the waiter opened a random door, letting us step through. Fortunately, the lights were softer here, more normal for a room. Along one wall was a couch, a few thin blankets tossed randomly along the arms and back. The opposite wall had two racks. One with normal clothes and the other with fancier pieces. Against the back wall was a beauty station. A desk that held a mirror, lights all around it, and a lot of makeup and hair products. Sitting on the little round seat in front of it was Olivia Grace. She looked almost the same except her hair was now up, the long locks exposing a claiming mark on her neck.

I knew she was an alpha, her honey scent filled the space and forced my nose to inhale it.

“Thank you for coming,” she said. Her voice was sweet and filled with an accent that made it painfully obvious she was bilingual.

“You were amazing,” I told her.

She smiled, dimples forming on her cheeks. “Thank you. It is rare that we get such a standing ovation for our performance. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

My mate was behind me, my back to his front, and I leaned against him. He was holding me while I tried my best to keep all my questions to myself because I had so many, and I didn’t want to annoy her, but I also didn’t know what else to say.

Glancing down at a dainty watch hanging from a lightbulb around the mirror, Olivia Grace said, “I have some time before my interviews. Would you like to talk some more?”

“I have so many questions,” I admitted.

Olivia Grace gestured to the couch for Seb and me to sit down. I was barely on the edge of my seat before I demanded, “When did you start playing?” She was patient with me, explaining everything I wanted to know about who created the pieces they played, why she picked the cello, how she met her orchestra mates.

I wasn’t sure how long we actually talked, but eventually, a knock came on her door before someone opened it, not even waiting for a response. I recognized the male as another member of the group as he leaned his head in to say something. His words caught in his throat as he stared at us on the couch.

“It is time?” Olivia Grace asked.

The male agreed with an accent similar to Olivia Grace’s.

Seb and I stood, and I thanked Olivia Grace again for meeting with us. We all walked back down the hallway together, the other members of the group apparently at the interview already. Now my stomach was officially grumbling for dinner. I wanted something big and filling.

Back where the performers had played, the interview was being held. A bunch of people were standing around, cameras at the ready, and little recording devices in their hands.

Murmurs started at our appearance, and I wondered if Olivia Grace was going to get in trouble for being late. I had no idea if we went past the time or not.

As we headed toward the elevator, I heard someone yell out my name.

It didn’t occur to me that it was one of the reporters. I didn’t question whether or not the voice was male or female, with or without an accent, or even if I’d given Olivia Grace my name at all.

I turned around, looking for whoever called my name.

Flashes started, and immediately people started moving closer to me, talking over one another as they demanded answers to questions that I wanted to answer but no one would stop talking long enough to let me. Seb was pulling me toward the elevator, and I stumbled over my own feet, still facing the reporters as I walked backward.

My bravado was failing at all the lights, the voices, the nearness of strangers. Why were they yelling? The questions were becoming meaner, more demanding. They weren’t asking me questions—they were trying to set me up. I knew that much, and my heart was breaking with each vulgar insistence.

My mates were right. They didn’t want my answer, they didn’t want to hear my side. They wanted confirmation for what they already believed was true.

That I was attacked by betas.

That I supported representative Adam’s claims that omegas needed to be more heavily protected.

That I was hiding away because I was scared to leave the house after what happened.

That the attack almost killed me.

I was shaking my head—it was all I could do to argue. Every time I opened my mouth to say something, no one heard, or maybe nothing was coming out, I didn’t know.

Seb pulled me back into the elevator, the reporters refusing to stop following. I was pushed behind my mate, and I grabbed onto the back of his coat, terrified that he’d leave me. Terrified that he’d step away from me and I would be swarmed again.

I never would have thought this would be scary. They were just people, just cameras. I wasn’t sure why I was feeling overwhelmed.

This was exactly what I’d wanted, the opportunity to tell my story.

Yet it was also exactly like my mates had expected.

I watched as the alphas from the orchestra helped push the reporters back. They weren’t acting like people then. Like I was a person. Their desperation for the story was more than curiosity and interest. They were dangerous. Yet, reporters.

My mind was in a panic, tears were blurring my vision until finally, the doors had enough space to close. Immediately my mate turned to me, pulling me in so he was holding me tight. His scent was all wrong, like an expired guava, telling me he was equally as distressed about what happened as I was.

I wanted to say something, to ask what the hell had just happened, only I didn’t want to break the silent seal around us. Everything felt like too much. I was overwhelmed, and honestly, hurt.

It felt like I’d been betrayed by the people I’d thought would help me. They were this last chance I was holding onto in my mind, playing out scenarios of what could be, and all of those dreams just broke.

Seb held me tight, and the tears I felt for sure would come didn’t. I was just being held, and then the doors dinged open, and I was being dragged along. The parking area was empty of people. All the news vans were parked where the guests had been before.

As soon as I was sitting in the seat, my door still open with Seb beside me, I burst into tears.

“Oh, princess,” Seb pulled me to the side, so I was leaning against his chest again. “You’re breaking my heart. But we have to go, okay? I don’t trust those assholes not to come back down and chase after you.”

I didn’t want to let my mate go. He pulled my hands off his shirt and then slammed the door shut behind him.

I hated that I was crying, that I had gotten spooked over something that I couldn’t even properly explain. What was scary about a bunch of people that wanted to interview me? Was it the way they’d all talked over each other, pushing at each other to get closer to me as if their cameras wouldn’t have been able to zoom in from several feet away? Was it the way their scents mixed together until my own senses were overwhelmed?

The driver’s door pulled open and I startled before realizing it was my mate.

A loud ringing sound came through the car like a song and my mate pushed a button on the center console screen.

I missed whatever the person said because Seb was leaving the parking area, and my attention was on the little mirror, watching as the elevators opened again and a bunch of people rushed out, their cameras immediately catching us as we drove away.

My heart broke, realizing my back-up plan, my last hope, was nonexistent. And I started crying again.

****

At some point on the drive home from my date with Seb, I’d stopped crying. My eyes were shut, but I wasn’t sleeping. I felt completely drained, my cheeks raw from crying, but it was my body that felt weird. Like it was too heavy.

When my door opened, it took all of my energy to turn my head and blink open my eyes.

“I’m so sorry, princess,” Seb said.

I shook my head, trying to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. None of it was, especially not my broken hope. He’d tried to warn me. Over and over again he told me that the media wasn’t my friend, and I nodded my head along, not believing him.

Now I did.

He pulled me out of the car, holding me as he walked into the house. I kept my face tucked against his neck, my arms and legs tight around him as I held on.

On top of all my crazy emotions, I felt guilt. Guilty for ruining this amazing date with Sebastian.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, whispering the words against his neck. “I’m sorry.”

I knew my other mates were close, but I didn’t want Sebastian to let me go. I was only vaguely aware of him taking the steps up to my nest. Even with my eyes closed, I knew the dimmed lights and scents of my nest once we arrived.

Seb carefully lowered us both down and then I felt Jackson at my back, two of my alphas squeezing me between them. I didn’t have any tears left, but I was freezing. When Jackson rolled away, a whimper came out. The sound quickly cut off when he came back, pressing himself tightly against me and throwing a blanket over all of us.

“What are you thinking, rebel?” Jackson asked. “Talk to us.”

“Where’s Han and Zeke?”

“They’re making you some dinner.”

I didn’t want to eat even as I felt how hungry my stomach was. I just wanted my mates close, but there was also no more of me to be shared, so I guessed it worked out.

“I don’t know why I’m crying so much,” I admitted. I wished I could somehow get closer to both alphas, wanting their bodies pressed tighter against me despite already feeling their warmth on my front and back.

“They were verbally attacking you, princess,” Seb said. Behind me, Jackson growled, but Seb continued like he hadn’t even heard the first alpha. “Not even press conferences are that bad because usually someone maintains some type of order. Celebrities are used to the flashing cameras and questions but they’re usually walking or, again, have some type of security.”

“Did you hear what they asked?”

I looked up, needing to see Seb’s face when he responded. He looked so sad, heartbroken just like me when he nodded.

“I feel like we lost. I kept thinking that no matter how bad things got, I could still tell everyone my side of the story and then they’d magically believe me. I’d do an interview or something and then I could clear everything up. But those people, they’d already decided who I was. Now what can I do?”

Hopeless.

That was what I was feeling. In my heart, my body, even my soul.