Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Saint Hall Estate, Haven
I stand on the wide porch of Saint Cage in the shadows. I stare in amazement at the transformed gardens, which connect this building to Saint Hall.
The mansion’s huge oak entrance door has been thrown open. Its decorative columns are strung with wisteria and clematis.
A bright banner is hung over the door, which reads in violet paint:
THE SAINT PACK HOSTS HAVEN’S FIRST ANNUAL FOOD FESTIVAL!
Why am I not surprised that the Saint pack’s name features first?
The mayor could never let anyone forget that his status is most important, even though it’s Senator Falcon in the Knight pack who’s actually funding the contest’s big prize.
The manicured garden is covered with a large number of bright stalls and tents between the conifers, flower beds, and apple trees. Slender peacocks with iridescent tails wander around the stalls, softly honking.
I wrinkle my nose at the delicious mixed smells of cheese, freshly baked bread, and sweet pastries.
I don’t need my enhanced scent abilities to be bombarded by the aromas of the delicious wares on display from locally sourced sausages being sold at stalls to fresh strawberries from farms on the outskirts, topped with cream and sugar.
A lot of talented people work in this small town.
It fills me with pride.
I grin, when I see Angel with her pack, the Champions, milling in the crowds. In fact, a large number of elite packs have turned up: the Knights, Marshals, and Kings.
Packs, who I only learned yesterday through Thomas, are also resistance just like us, and have turned up to support us.
Vito and I have felt alone our entire lives.
The truth is that the moment we joined the resistance, however, we were never alone again.
Perhaps, even before that.
Because the Omega resistance were there, looking out for every Omega.
It makes my heart soar to think that I can now be a part of that.
I rub at my tired eyes.
Shit, have I messed up my mascara?
I spent over an hour this morning, painting my nails (and wishing that Vito was with me so that I could do his as well), and drawing on my violet lipstick.
I have a grand announcement to make later, after all.
Yet I can’t help yawning in exhaustion.
I spent all of yesterday, most of the night, and this morning, designing and baking my special cake for the contest. Of course, most of that time was also taken up with making the decorations.
Vito calls me a cake artist .
When I stood back and looked at the chocolate cake on the table, based on Mom’s recipe but to my own design, it made my heart skip a beat.
It was perfect.
I hope that Vito loves it too.
“You look beautiful.” Thomas leans closer to me. I can feel his warmth, as he stands behind me. “Do you like the dress? I thought that we could wow in matching outfits. Before you say anything, this is definitely both a possessive gesture and me making a statement about no longer being available because I picked you. I own that.”
I smile, glancing over my shoulder at Thomas.
He looks relaxed, even though I know that he’s not.
This is the biggest day of our lives.
I run my hand down the shimmering blue material of the summer dress, which has feathered straps that mirror the clasp of the aquamarine pendant at my throat.
The dress matches Thomas’ blue suit.
“It’s beautiful, Tom,” I reply, meaning you’re beautiful . “And us matching is equally me being possessive and saying that I’m no longer available because I picked you . Just so you know that I’m also owning it.”
Thomas chuckles, resting his cool hand on my bare shoulder and rubbing in a soothing way. “We’ve got this today. Your cake is a work of art. Whatever happens, remember that I love you. Freeing you…setting all of you free…it’s worth everything. I’d die for—”
Terrified at his sudden earnestness, I twist to face him.
I grab him by his collar to force him to face me. “What’s going on?”
“Trust me.”
Thomas’ words stab through me.
I do trust him.
While I’ve been busy with my baking, Thomas has been working on the details of the scheme with Ghost.
I don’t know those details.
Thomas told me that my reactions would be more believable that way, as long as I follow his lead.
I agreed to that because baking is my talent, Ghost’s is to plot, and Thomas’ is to lead.
Yet this is hard.
“Okay,” I whisper, “but you’re not dying.”
“I should hope not.” When Thomas kisses me, it’s desperate and agonizingly like he thinks that it may be the last time that our lips will touch.
“You’re at it again. Do I need to spray you with water like you’re cats in heat?” Lincoln teases.
I hear Lincoln’s footfalls coming out from inside Saint Cage and onto the porch. Ghost follows him quietly.
Thomas breaks apart from me, fixing on a cool mask.
I peer around Thomas at Lincoln, who’s dressed in a sharp black suit with a silk threaded waistcoat.
Lincoln’s also awkwardly carrying Sugar in his arms, cradling her like she’s a baby. Sugar’s white hairs are already sticking to his black suit.
Sugar looks smug.
Ghost looks smugger about getting Lincoln to carry Sugar around for him like his personal butler.
Personally, I bet that he only had to bat those baby blues of his at Lincoln.
Lincoln is Omega whipped.
When Ghost catches my eye and grins like he knows exactly what I’m thinking, I smother my laugh against my palm.
Unfortunately, Lincoln catches our look and realizes that he’s been played.
“Sneaky Omegas,” Lincoln grumbles.
He drops Sugar gently to the floor. She winds around his ankles, as if to be certain that his legs are covered in her hair, before trotting off toward the delicious food smells. I’m certain that she’ll steal cheese and sausage from the stalls.
Ghost’s dressed in a sky blue suit that matches his eyes with an ace of spades on the pocket, over a white shirt that’s open at the neck. His curls are slicked back.
I’ve never seen him dressed up like this. His hair looks even more startlingly white in the sunshine.
Ghost laughs.
I’m happy to hear him laugh, although he’s not altogether able to hide how nervous the crowds are making him. He’s hanging back behind Lincoln.
Lincoln notices, however, running his hand through Ghost’s hair. “We’ll be with you all the time, little gambler. I know that you can kick ass, but you also have the best trained bodyguard in the state with you. I’ll protect you.”
Thomas exchanges a glance with Lincoln that I don’t understand. “And that’s your number one mission today, understood?”
“I don’t like it.” Lincoln grits his teeth.
“You don’t have to. As your boss, however, it’s the job that I’m assigning.”
“As your fated, can I tell you that you’re brave but a dumbass, sir ?”
“That’s your prerogative.”
Ghost growls, shouldering to stand next to Thomas and kissing him, fiercely.
I wish that I knew what they were planning.
Thomas rubs his thumb down Ghost’s neck, and Ghost leans into the touch. “I have something for you.”
Ghost chirps, inquisitively.
Thomas reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, velvet black box. He glances at Lincoln and me, before he hands it to Ghost.
Then Thomas holds out his hands, and Lincoln and I take them. “I had this made for you based on our Soul Marks.”
Ghost pops open the box and gasps.
A small diamond wolf brooch rests inside the box. It matches the Soul Marks on our skin.
Ghost’s eyes gleam like he’s holding back tears, but he doesn’t touch the brooch.
Instead, he cocks his head.
“I want to bond with you,” Thomas says. “We all do. Yet it’s more than that. Us three are fated mates by birth and destiny. But you’re our fated mate by choice.” Ghost closes his eyes. He’s shaking. “If you’ll have us.”
Say yes.
Ghost opens his eyes.
He tilts up his chin and nods.
I let out a relieved breath. My chest is tight.
Thomas reaches to pick up the brooch and pins it onto Ghost’s chest, smoothing over it.
“I love all of you,” I say.
“As do I,” Thomas answers, before he’s briskly business again. “Now, treat this cheese lover to something special from that stall over there. They have some specialist cheddars. Keep him safe.”
Lincoln’s jaw sets, but he nods.
I watch as Lincoln steers Ghost away toward the cheese stall with his arm around his shoulders.
Then I spot Vito at the cake tent. He’s bounding between the different entries, no doubt trying to work out the competition.
Vito catches my eye and waves, before running between the peacocks and the crowds toward me.
He’s dressed in the Dough Knot apron over black t-shirt and leather trousers. His olive skin is flushed in the heat.
“Hey, viper,” I call, as Vito leaps up the steps toward me.
Vito must have been worked off his feet keeping the bakery going without me. Despite the shadows under his eyes, however, he’s acting as he always does like he’s not long term sleep deprived.
“Looking good, sis.” Vito’s vibrating with excitement. “Do you know who I just saw? Those fucking hockey legends, the Blades. Then by the wine tastings, the movie star Omega, Jex, who has such a peachy ass that I could bite—"
Thomas coughs discretely.
Vito ignores him.
“Your cake is some amazing shit. The way that you built a peacock out of curled up snakes, from the markings on the tail to the chest plumage…?” Vito shakes his head. “It’s like a reinvention of the Candy and Viper Cupcakes.”
“How could I forget you, when it came to this? It’s a twist on our bakery’s signature cake but with a nod to my new pack. I’ve called it Peacock and Viper cake.”
I hold up my tattooed hand, weaving it from side to side and hissing.
Vito holds his tattooed hand out next to mine, mimicking the move like we have since we were kids.
Thomas coughs again.
“Something in your throat?” Vito asks, casually. “Or is that an elite way of being pissed that I’m not following etiquette? We don’t need to follow formal greetings and all that shit anymore, peacock.”
Thomas pulls himself up to look even taller. “Don’t call me that.”
“We’re family.” When Vito slings his arm around Thomas’ shoulder, Thomas stills like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “You can call me viper.”
“Do I have to?”
“So, does Tom pass the brother-in-law test?” I ask Vito.
Vito narrows his eyes. “Pineapple on pizza?”
Thomas doesn’t hesitate. “Sacrilege.”
“Muse or Kylie Minogue?”
“Muse, obviously.”
Vito’s eyes narrow impossibly further like he’s winding up for the killer blow. “Night in with a book or a night out dancing?”
He’s got him.
Fiendish.
Thomas gives a slow smile. “Wherever my fated mates are.”
Vito’s expression brightens. “He passes.”
“I’m honored,” Thomas drawls.
I hope that Vito can find a pack that loves him in the same way that I have.
He deserves it.
He deserves the fucking world.
All of a sudden, a pungent blast of burned coffee floods over me.
It’s the scent of angry Alpha.
Unfortunately, it’s one that I’m familiar with but would give anything not to be.
I whimper. My pulse skyrockets. My heart hammers in my chest.
Vito stiffens at the same time that I do.
How did Dad get in here? Why didn’t the Saint pack security stop him?
“Stay calm.” Dad’s smooth, deadly voice commands at the same time as the barrel of a gun is held to the back of Thomas’ head. “That’s it, no shameful displays. Just do what I say, unless you want me to tear out your Omegas’ throats like they’re the entertainment. Now, back inside. Walk.”