27. Erain
CHAPTER 27
Erain
T he Capitol City Art Show was usually very well-attended and popular, with the cream of Alpha society showing up.
And I had come to think of winning as just my due. After all, I had won every year for the past five years.
Unfortunately, Clarissa had been my curator and co-artist for a few years, so she was also at the show with our joint pieces.
But I didn’t care about her. I only wanted Piper to be impressed.
Because Skystone Pack was a threat on all fronts—administrative, artistic, and athletic.
The show was going smoothly as usual. The Alphas and high-level Betas were drifting gently from painting to painting, making delicate little gasps of pleasure as they passed by the huge canvas Cressida and I had done together. I did think it was the most likely to win the award—it was of a princess in a field, dreamily riding a horse with a flower garland in her hair and surrounded by drooping branches.
Cressida had both sat for the painting and helped me paint it, and a few weeks ago I had been very proud of it but now I was nauseated.
She represented all my failings and I couldn’t even bring myself to look at her.
But when I saw Piper walk through the door, I was floored, as usual, my cock instantly twitching in my pants, my body attuned to my fated mate’s. She was wearing a long, sleek silver dress, the expensive fabric draped over her slender, athletic body to perfection.
I hurried over to her.
“You didn’t have to dress up for me,” I said anxiously. “I think you look beautiful no matter what you’re wearing.”
I looked nervously to see if my words had an impact on her, but she only said carelessly, “I know I do. I just felt like dressing up tonight.”
Fuck, I envied that confidence.
For one moment I had the vain hope that perhaps she would not be accompanied by those horrible Betas, but then when I saw them settle in near the entrance to the art gallery, I knew I was in for it.
They were setting up shop right in the public area, with huge canvases, jars of paint, and sprayers.
“If you want some real art,” Raffi hollered loudly over the delicate sounds of the private string quartet I had hired, “check us out.”
Beside me, Cressida turned white with fury. “How dare she do that!” she hissed to me.
“This has nothing to do with you,” I told her bleakly. “This is between Piper and I.”
They began to spray-paint on a huge canvas, arguing loudly with each other, making the elite Alphas look around at each other in annoyance.
But I gritted my teeth and ignored it. I knew exactly what Piper was doing. She was trying to get us to admit we weren’t made for each other.
I wished she could feel my regret and shame at what I had done, because I was doing a shitty job of explaining it.
“This is all very nice,” Piper said. “Cute really.”
She motioned to Mario and Raffi, who began to haul in an enormous canvas between them.
“I, however, have something our esteemed judge might find. . .very interesting.”
“You. . .paint?” Cressida said scornfully.
I opened my mouth to tell her to go any fucking where else, but Piper brushed over my objections.
“I believe I have a rare talent for it, yes. However, I would like to keep it covered until the judge is here. In case some jealous competitor tries to damage it.”
She turned and walked off.
“You two make a cute couple,” Piper said sweetly over her shoulder. “Matching, too.”
I looked down in impotent fury at my powder blue vest and Cressida’s strapless powder blue gown.
“Not on purpose!” I cried, hurrying after her. “Cressida and I are not a couple. I told you we are through! You are the only one I want.”
But Piper was still walking away without looking back, and we were interrupted by the head judge. Everyone drew back respectfully to let him pass.
It was the esteemed Duke D’Bertier de Sauvigny, and he had been judging art competitions for as long as I could remember. He was a tall, thin man in his late 70s, or perhaps he was 170. I couldn’t swear to it either way. He had a timeless stern austerity, and he was notorious for taking out a series of sinister looking glasses to carefully examine each piece of art for any imperfections.
But this time he walked around the room without bringing out his looking glass once. There was a curl to his lip, like he couldn’t believe the shit he was seeing.
I looked around at all the Alpha-made pieces. They all looked up to their usual exquisite standard to me. Apparently he was going to be even more of a hardass this year.
But the Duke was making noises like ‘ hmm ’ and ‘ pft ’ as he walked around each exquisite Alpha artwork.
Then he moved to where Mario and Raffi still had a cloth over Piper’s art.
Now, I didn’t care if he was the fucking Duke or not, if he was going to say anything mean about Piper’s painting, I was going to chew him out.
Then Mario and Raffi unveiled it with such a grand flourish that everybody turned to stare.
I barely had time with my marveling eyes to take in what appeared to be a nine-foot cat when the Duke spoke.
“Extraordinary!” he snapped, in a voice so loud everyone in the art gallery could clearly hear.
He bounded over to the painting with uncharacteristic energy and looked at it again, closer, like he never wanted to stop looking at it.
Mario, Raffi, and Cesare stood there with poker faces.
“Young woman,” the Duke said, “this is unquestionably the most stunning piece of art I have ever seen. Such ingenuity! Such talent! All these other paintings are simply rubbish compared to it!”
For a moment, I felt my jaw unhinge and my mouth sag open.
“You must be shitting me,” Cressida burst out.
“Such language,” Piper said, looking unconcerned, and I felt a prickle of pride in her.
She didn’t give a shit what people thought about her, and I was jealous as fuck.
I wanted that energy, I craved that confidence.
Oh god, my mouth was so full of wanting and needing that I had to cram my hand over my lips to keep the drool in, the craven weak needy desperation for my uninterested Omega.
“Look at it!” Cressida almost sobbed.
I turned and looked too, really looked at the painting.
What we had was a nine foot tall cat who was clearly some sort of all-powerful mage, with electricity and various spells shooting out of its little paws.
The entire thing was done in unusual colors of a violent orange I had only seen in a nightmare, various shades of yellow, and a rather vomitous green.
“This painting really says something,” the Duke barked. “I believe it is a meditation on the futility of trying to grasp for too many things in this lifetime. It is better to live a simple life without the heavy psychic accumulation of too many possessions, as this cat is clearly telling us.”
“Clearly,” Rook said.
My irritation bubbled off and dissipated as I looked at the painting.
“Did you really paint that?” I asked Piper.
“Yes, I did, Erain,” she said. “What’s the matter, don’t think I know how?”
“You know how to paint all right,” I replied.
And the more I looked at it, the more true I knew it was.
Even though it was a quick sketch and she’d obviously done it quickly with zero care, there was something fucking mesmerizing about the expression on the cat’s face, the sharp, vivid images she had painted, despite her not giving a shit.
“Look at ours!” Cressida whined. “It is far more beautiful!”
I did look at ours. While it was of course technically proficient, I had to admit that it lacked. . . something.
And then I realized what it was. It lacked life. Authenticity. A goddamn perspective. It was beautiful, but meant nothing.
“You won, Piper,” I said. “Fair and square.”
I thought I detected a note of genuine surprise in her eyes, like she hadn’t expected me to say something like that.
I can be better , I wanted to roar out.
I can and will be a better Alpha for you. Just forgive me .
Then, before I could intervene, Cressida lunged at Piper.
Well, goddamn, I could have told her that was a bad idea.
It seemed to happen in extreme slow motion, Cressida with her claws out, her hair all falling out of its neat pins, her face looking wild.
Piper didn’t even blink, just stepped aside and then gripped Cressida by the back of her $150,000 dress and hoisted her in the air.
“Tsk,” she tut-tutted. “So tacky. Calm down, you’re ruining the atmosphere.”
Then she took a few steps to the marble fountain and dunked Cressida in.
There were general hysterics and confusion, with several Omegas dramatically swooning.
“Oh sweet Omega, don’t hurt yourself!” Teddy crooned, rushing over to Piper. “Bend at the knees when you’re doing that, Angel.”
But Piper was already setting Cressida down like a sopping wet rat as she bared her teeth.
“Don’t start anything you can’t finish,” Piper warned. “Now take your second place prize and get the fuck out.”
Sobbing, Cressida fled the exhibition hall as the Duke placed the first place medal around Piper’s neck.
“Bro, your painting wasn’t that bad,” Teddy said, patting me sympathetically on the shoulder. “I mean, of course I liked Piper’s much better but yours was swell too. He didn’t have to go so hard on you.”
Teddy liking the painting was of course the kiss of death for its artistic merit, but I knew he meant well.
“Remarkable,” Rook said, and his usually cold and stoic voice was almost a croon, if you knew what he normally sounded like.
“I have known the Duke D’Bertier de Sauvigny for many years, and I’ve never seen him act like that.”
“Extraordinary,” Piper agreed casually, adjusting her hoops. “I suppose he was truly captivated by this wizard cat.”
Rook was staring at her in that dominant Alpha way he has, but Piper looked like she couldn’t give less of a shit, meeting his eyes with all the boldness in the world.
“Anything,” Rook said, his voice like gravel getting hit apart with a sledgehammer. “I’ll give you anything. Just give me another chance. Give Pack Skystone another chance.”
Piper only shrugged.