46. Lilah
46
Lilah
The gala Oliver’s work was hosting was in an enormous gallery in the middle of town. We hired a driver to take us there, and the entire time I was sitting in the back seat, sandwiched between Killian and Emmett, Killian was holding my hand, his thumb gently stroking back and forth over the back of it.
It was sweet and, at the same time, a little bit much—even for Killian. He kept looking my way, an odd glint in his eyes, and more than once, I wanted to turn to him and ask him exactly what his problem was. Not that I necessarily thought there was a problem , per se, but there was definitely something going on with my alpha. If he weren’t going to tell me what it was outright, then the least he could do would be to stop looking at me like I was about to explode.
Oliver seemed to have something going on with him, as well. He sat across the aisle from us in the limo, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Whenever he looked at me, he offered a small smirk, reaching up and trailing his fingers along his collar, toying with his dress shirt and drawing my attention there.
He knew what he was doing, of course—the bastard. My desire and arousal after Killian’s little teasing session were intense, almost more than I could handle, and it took everything inside of me not to launch myself across the limo and take Oliver right then and there, witnesses be damned.
A part of me was almost certain Killian and Emmett would appreciate the show, but by the time I started seriously considering it—if only to help quell some of the itching need between my legs—we were pulling up in front of the gallery.
Oliver offered me a hand as he climbed out of the limo, a genuine smile pulling at his lips. “Ready to go?” he asked softly.
I could hear the underlying question, the question that he really wanted to ask me. Did I feel ready to go out there and declare my allegiance to the pack in such a public way? I still wasn’t formally the pack’s omega, and I didn’t have a bond mark on my neck. Anyone could look at me and take a shot, as far as the law was concerned. Oliver and the others might have a formal bid to court me, but as far as claiming went, the legal requirement was a bond mark.
I knew Emmett was a little concerned about it, though he hadn’t said anything about it to me. I’d overheard him muttering to himself while he got ready for work the other day, but by the time I walked into the room, ready to confront him, he had clammed up and refused to bring it up when I had gently tried to pry.
Still, there was no uncertainty in Oliver’s eyes as I took his hand—only warmth and the easy affection I had come to associate with him. Yes, he could be a stubborn asshole, and yes, I knew we were going to have an uphill battle after I was a formal member of the pack, especially if Hunter Randall continued to harass us.
But tonight...tonight wasn’t about that. Tonight was about spending time together, getting to know some people, and showing myself off as Oliver, Killian, and Emmett’s omega for the very first time.
My stomach flipped as Oliver tucked my hand into the crook of his arm, and we started walking up towards the gallery. “Yeah, I’m okay,” I said quietly, just loud enough that all three of my alphas could hear.
Emmett made a soft, rumbling chuckle behind me, and Killian reached out and brushed his fingers along the curve of my neck, a sweet reminder that he was there. Even that innocent touch was enough to make a shiver run down my spine, and I glared at him as we walked up to the entry, where a doorman waited with a list.
“If you want me to get through this night unscathed, or if you want to make it through this night unscathed, then I suggest you leave the touching to a minimum,” I hissed at Killian, ignoring Oliver as he spoke to the doorman.
Killian smirked at me, and after a moment, he reached out and brushed his fingers down my neck again. That odd twinkle was back in his eyes, and he leaned close, his breath brushing over my lips. “You’re all bark and no bite, baby girl. I think you and I both know that.”
He winked at me and then pulled away just as my mouth dropped open for me to give him a piece of my mind. The flare of arousal and irritation bubbled up inside me, and I wanted to launch myself at him—whether that was to tackle him to the ground or to attack his mouth with a kiss that would make both of our heads spin, I wasn’t entirely sure.
A gentle touch on my hand drew my attention back to Oliver, and he smiled at me softly as he pulled me close to his side again. “It’s okay, princess,” he murmured, dragging me into the gallery. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”
Somehow, it sounded like he was trying to reassure himself more than he was trying to reassure me, but I didn’t point that out.
No, I couldn’t do that when I was entirely preoccupied with the space we had just entered. The Villana Gallery was one of the oldest in the city, and it was lavish from top to bottom. Beautiful paintings were mounted on the wall—hypermodern, in a style that almost made my eye twitch, with sharp angles and bright colors that didn’t quite work together but were somehow aesthetically pleasing—and statues scattered throughout, beautiful artworks of marble and stone.
I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping open as I looked from artwork to artwork, statue to statue, and stayed close to my pack as we slowly made our way into the center of the room.
“Does your firm usually go all out like this for a company function?” I finally managed to ask, my voice awed.
Oliver chuckled softly, pulling me towards one of the tables lined up and arranged carefully around the edges of the room. “We make the company a lot of money,” he said softly, steering me towards a chair. He pulled it out for me, and I made a soft sound of gratitude as I sank down, watching Killian and Emmett surround me on both sides. Oliver straightened his sleeves. “They feel like events like this show their gratitude without them needing to provide any additional benefits.” He rolled his eyes a little and then winked at me, a smile tugging at his lips.
I couldn’t stop myself from chuckling, his deprecating comment loosening something inside me. I felt like I was on the inside of something, sitting here with my alphas around me, and I glanced around the room again, admiring everyone in their finest attire.
“Does anyone else feel a little bit underdressed?” I muttered, unable to stop the shiver of insecurity that went through me as I looked around.
“Hey.” Killian reached out and caught my hand, and his eyes gleamed intensely as he looked at me. “You are beautiful,” he said seriously. “You are the most beautiful person in this room right now, and we are honored that you’re here with us. Do you understand me?”
I couldn’t stop myself from blushing at the compliment, and I ducked my head. “Yes, I understand,” I mumbled.
Killian squeezed my hand, chuckling softly. “Good, baby girl,” he teased.
I swallowed and then started looking around again. Oliver worked for an organization that worked with humans and shifters alike to create a better society, at least as far as I understood it. He’d tried to describe his actual job to me a couple of times, but I’d barely been able to understand the high level of what the company did before my eyes started crossing, and I got lost.
Because of the nature of their business, shifters and humans alike wandered around the room, all dressed in their finest clothing—women in designer gowns and men in Tom Ford suits, Cartier jewelry, and watches more expensive than the house we lived in.
I had to admit that the display of wealth was a little overwhelming, and I couldn’t stop myself from squirming around in my seat just a little bit, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
I continued looking around, seeing faces that looked vaguely familiar. I spoke in quiet murmurs as I asked Killian questions about who was who.
For the most part, Killian indulged me with the kind of casual warmth I had come to associate with him, and on my other side, Emmett reached out and laid his hand on my knee, sparking arousal that I didn’t think he was aware I was feeling.
After I’d started to feel a little more comfortable with the crowd, Oliver took me around to meet some of his coworkers. Though I barely remembered the faces of the men and women he introduced me to, I still felt the warmth of pride from being on Oliver’s arm and hearing him declare me as his omega whenever he was asked who I was.
But as the course of the night went on, I couldn’t stop myself from feeling more unsettled. Goosebumps rose and settled on my skin in turn, and I could feel sweat dripping down the back of my neck every now and then before I wiped it off. The room was warm, though I attributed that to having so many bodies crammed into such a small space.
Finally, Oliver brought me back to the table and deposited me between Killian and Emmett again before he went off and returned with drinks for all of us.
I accepted the drink gratefully, sipping the chilled champagne and still sweating. I was feeling uncomfortably warm.
Nearly an hour passed before anything noteworthy happened, though I had resigned myself to a relatively dull evening at this event. I was with my alphas, and that was really all that mattered.
But when Killian stiffened at my side, and I saw his eyes narrow at someone who had just walked in, I knew something was about to happen.
“What is it?” My head swiveled to the side, and I turned to look in the same direction as Killian was, hunting for the thing that had made my alpha so unsettled.
At first, I didn’t notice what it was. All I saw was a new, steady stream of people filtering in through the front: several people in suits who looked like bodyguards and a couple of well-dressed individuals near the center of the crowd.
Emmett scoffed under his breath and muttered, “Of course.”
“What?” I asked, my heart leaping into my throat. Oliver was off again, talking to his boss, though I could see him clearly when I looked for him. He had made a point of never being out of my sight throughout the evening, which was very obviously intentional and made my stomach flutter with butterflies.
I could see him holding a glass of whiskey and speaking to two older gentlemen wearing suits which probably cost the same as a small country’s GDP. He glanced my way as I was looking at him, giving me a small wink before returning to his conversation. The gesture settled something inside of me, and I turned back to the newcomers, trying to figure out exactly where I knew them from.
“Who are they?” I finally asked, giving up after about thirty seconds of fruitlessly searching my mental stores and coming up blank.
“That is the envoy of shifter royalty, Lilah,” Emmett said quietly. He reached for my hand again, linking our fingers together and squeezing, and I suppressed the shiver of arousal that went through me at the small gesture.
In the back of my mind, the voice of reason screamed, wondering what exactly was wrong with me that was causing me to be so sensitive to every single touch, but I shoved that voice to the side as I focused on the truly chilling implication of Emmett’s words.
“What are they doing here?” I said quietly.
Shifter royalty—the monarchy that had once ruled over every individual with the power to change form—was something of a legend in the modern day. Shifters were subject to the state and federal governments of the countries they resided in, just like everybody else, and the need for an overarching monarchy that controlled everyone’s power and looked into everyone’s business was a thing of the past.
Still, that didn’t stop the monarchy from existing. From what I understood, we had a king who was single, aside from his squadron of guards and his childhood best friend, who was both his head of security and his right-hand man, if I was to understand everything correctly.
Looking at the crowd that had walked in, it didn’t take a genius to see that the King wasn’t there. I was certain there would be far more of an upheaval in the shifter world if he had walked into this function in the middle of our city. That didn’t mean the people there weren’t important—I just didn’t know who they were.
“He’s not here, right? King...Mal...Mal...something...” I looked at Killian helplessly, and after a moment of letting me struggle, he chuckled.
“King Malcolm Tranent,” he informed me. “And no, it doesn’t look like he’s here.” His expression twisted a little bit. “But that doesn’t mean that his ghouls aren’t.”
I glanced at the newcomers again. “What do you mean?”
“It means that the people the King chooses to surround himself with are morally reprehensible, at best,” Emmett supplied, his expression grim when I glanced over at him. His hand flexed on top of my knee, his thumb stroking back and forth on the inside, and I couldn’t stop myself from shivering at the gesture.
“You’re right.” Oliver’s voice was sudden and strong, and he walked up, handing me another glass of champagne, taking my empty glass away from me, and setting it on the table. His expression was neutral, though I could see a glint of unease in his blue eyes as he glanced over his shoulder toward the envoy. “The King isn’t here, but Jackson and Deverick are both present, and rumor is they’re looking for someone.”
I furrowed my brow and looked up at Oliver. “That...doesn’t make any sense. Here?”
“Who are they looking for?” Killian asked.
Oliver shook his head, and, almost as if we were one body, we all looked towards the center of the room again.
For a moment, all we could see were the guards surrounding the people in the center of the group. They all looked very official, with headpieces and black suits that looked like they probably cost the monarchy a pretty penny. But then, as we watched, they parted, and we were able to see the two men standing in the middle, their heads bent together as they whispered.
One of them was tall, his hair dark, long, and shaggy, though it was styled back neatly, tucked behind his ears. His eyes glowed alpha gold, even from across the room, and I wondered what was causing him to be so worked up that he was so close to a shift in the middle of a crowd.
The other man was a little bit shorter, his blond hair short and neat, his glasses perched neatly on the tip of his nose. He was handsome, in a bureaucratic way, and the way that his eyes—green, I could see them even from across the room—cut around the room screamed danger . I had no doubt that even with the taller alpha being so close to shift, this man was the one who needed to be reckoned with the most.
His eyes slid over to me and my pack, and I couldn’t stop myself from shivering as his gaze fell on me.
“That’s Deverick. He’s the king’s hacker, his tech guy, and basically, he does everything his physical guards can’t or won’t.” Oliver stepped closer to me, sliding his hand around the back of my neck, under my hair, before leaning down to kiss the top of my head. “Don’t worry, princess,” he murmured. “We’ll keep you safe from the monarchy.”
The idea of needing to be safe from the monarchy had never occurred to me, but now that it was out there, I couldn’t stop myself from straightening up slightly, a shiver of mild unease running down my spine.
And more than the unease that came from Oliver’s words came a certain awareness that my alphas had some sort of relationship with the monarchy and the two alphas in the middle of the room.
I was tempted to ask what it was but bit the words back at the last second. I had the feeling that it wouldn’t benefit me to know—plausible deniability and all that.
“Thank you,” I finally murmured, meaning every word sincerely.
We were all watching Deverick and Jackson so closely that we noticed the exact moment something changed.
Jackson bared his teeth, and I didn’t have to be near him to know he was letting out a low, mildly threatening growl. Deverick turned to face the same direction, his expression coolly calculating.
His lips moved, clearly speaking to Jackson. Then, the two of them turned on their heels, and just as quickly as they had walked into the gallery, they left. Deverick pulled out his phone as they were leaving, already calling someone, and the last thing I saw before they disappeared was Jackson dragging the claws of his shifted hand down the sleeve of his shirt, tearing the fine fabric to shreds.
I furrowed my brow and turned to look in the direction they had been looking before they had left. At first, I didn’t see anything other than the same usual individuals, all dressed in fancy clothes that were too expensive.
But then I narrowed in a bit more, and I noticed one person who was slightly different from the rest—a girl who couldn’t have been older than nineteen or twenty. She wasn’t much younger than me, a lithe little thing with softly curled blonde hair that fell to her waist, which was pinned back with sparkling pins gleaming in the light. Her dress was a sweet A-line, fluffed with tulle, a dark purple that made her pale skin glow and her silvery blue eyes stand out.
She was beautiful, of course, but on first glance, I couldn’t see exactly what about her would have caused the guards of the King to have such a strong reaction.
“Huh,” Oliver said, his voice a little puzzled. “I wonder what it is about Alice that upset them.”
I looked at him, and he clarified, “Alice Kudrow.” He nodded at the taller man standing next to her, his hand wrapped around her elbow in a grip that looked too tight, even from across the room. “That’s her father, the man that she’s standing next to right there. Ivan Kudrow is big in political circles, though he doesn’t hold much power. He has ambition, though, and he’s trying to reach a more powerful position. He’s been speaking to some of the King’s lower Generals to get his foot in the door, but nothing has come of it.”
I glanced up at Oliver, ignoring a small bead of sweat that slid down the back of my neck. “You’re pretty well versed in shifter politics.”
His lips quirked up into a smile. “I have to be, princess,” he murmured.
His thumb swept up and down the side of my neck, and this time, I couldn’t hold back the low, sensual moan that fell from my lips. It was throaty but still far louder than I wanted it to be, and I pressed my lips tightly together as all three of my alphas turned to look at me, their eyes suddenly hungry.
“You like that, princess?” Oliver murmured. His fingers dug into the side of my neck, the grip just shy of causing me pain, and I nodded, whimpering and moaning.
“Fuck,” Killian murmured, leaning close and ostensibly looking like he was about to press a kiss to my lips. Before he could make contact, though, he stopped and took a deep breath of my scent.
“Oh...” He opened his eyes, and the pupils had nearly swallowed the green when I met his gaze. His glasses glimmered under the gallery lights, and I whimpered again, leaning forward to capture the kiss he was depriving me of.
Before I could make contact with him, though, he stood up, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. “We need to go,” he said with a clenched jaw.
Oliver frowned slightly. “What?”
He squeezed my neck again, and I breathed out a moan, turning my head so I could nuzzle into his wrist. I couldn’t get as much skin as I wanted to, but there was a tiny strip, just before his sleeve covered it, that was perfect for me to brush my lips against—maybe even for me to nip at, just a little bit...
Oliver’s scent, strong and alpha, floated up my nose from his wrist, and I groaned, pressing my knee into Emmett’s hand, where he still hadn’t released me. His hand tensed, and my inner omega paced around in my chest.
She wanted our alphas to touch us. She wanted them on top of me, biting and scratching, taking their pleasure from my body and giving me everything they had in return. She wanted, she wanted, she wanted ...
“Lilah?” Oliver leaned down, probably to make sure I was okay, but the second his nose brushed the top of my hair, he took a deep breath, and his entire body stiffened. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned.
“I know,” Killian snapped. “We have to go. Now .”
Killian took my hand and hauled me to my feet before explaining anything else, and Emmett followed suit, though he hadn’t said anything. I stumbled a little bit on my heels, nearly falling directly into Killian, but thankfully, both he and Oliver were there to catch me, both of them holding one of my elbows to keep me upright as they steered me out of the room so quickly that people looked at us curiously.
“Why do we need to go?” I asked. My voice was soft and a little dreamy, and warning bells were ringing in the back of my mind.
I felt rather than saw Killian and Oliver exchange glances over the top of my head, and after a moment, Oliver said, “We have to go home, princess, because...”
“You’re going into heat, baby girl, and if we stay here any longer, it’ll be a fucking bloodbath,” Killian finished, his voice sharp.
I barely registered anything he said beyond the word heat .
Oh .