17. Zoe
Zoe
A knock rattles my door. I don’t get up from my position on the bed, where I collapsed, still in the fancy dress, as soon as the revelation of who, what, I am hit me. I don't know how long I have been lying here.
Time is an illusion, just like my being a Beta.
“Zoe? You coming to dinner?” Warren’s voice is harsh and sounds wrong. I’ve known him my entire life. His voice is as familiar as my own, and yet right now, it’s foreign and grating.
“Not hungry,” I call without moving from the bed. “Go on without me.”
My doorknob wiggles, and I’m glad I thought to lock it when I got home. I can't face him right now. He'll know.
“Why is your door locked? Are you okay? You sound weird.”
I want to tell him that he does, too. That he sounds like a stranger to me. Not that anything changed with him. This is all me. I know it’s part of me processing the undeniable fact that I am a Fire Omega.
Something that has never been recorded before.
Something that many in our society do not believe is real.
“I’m fine, Warren. Just… I need some time to myself. I’m not feeling well.”
A soft thud on the door, as if he’s pressed his back against it, promises me he’s not going anywhere. “Is this about me? Did Cliff say something?”
Nothing has changed, and yet everything feels different, like something fundamental between us has snapped. “What? No. I don’t care that you’re bringing people home.”
“So he did tell you. I can… look, I know we don’t really talk about this, but maybe it’s time we do. We’re not getting any younger. We can only hide from Fate for so long, you know?”
Ugh, Fate. I don't want to think about Fate right now.
I can’t have this conversation, especially not where anyone walking by could hear us, but he's not going to leave until we do. I know him too well. I climb out of bed and yank open my door. He stumbles a bit as he turns around to look at me.
“Zoe. Wow. That dress…” Oh. I forgot I’m in an evening gown. “Where did you get that?”
“It was a gift. Warren, I don’t want to go to dinner. I don’t want to talk about us. I want to be alone.”
I need to be alone. What if my teeth change again, or worse, I shift fully? I don't even know what I am, but I know he's not supposed to know.
He doesn’t listen. He pushes into my room and closes the door behind him. His blond hair is tied back behind his neck, and the expression on his angular face is unreadable. He may as well be a stranger to me.
“You look incredible. I…” He swallows and reaches out, grabbing me by the hips. “Fuck. Wow.”
His touch feels unnatural, even though he’s held me hundreds of times before. “You said that.”
Warren’s lips are on mine before I can say anything else. They’re soft, almost delicate, as they move against mine. One hand slides to my lower back, pulling my body closer, and the other feeds under my hair, angling my head for him.
It feels… empty. Not earth-shattering. I don’t want to drown in him.
Not like I did when Ray kissed me.
This is Warren. This is my best friend. The man who has been by my side since we were children.
I have spent the better part of three weeks wondering if there was something between us and feeling jealous of others getting his attention.
And now I don’t feel anything.
Nothing inside me is yearning for more. In fact, my stomach is churning like I ate something foul, and my body is about to reject it.
When I break away from him, his breathing is labored, and his eyes are wild. He’s looking at me like I’m a drug and he’s craving another hit. I take a step backward, holding my hands up in a feeble attempt to keep him away.
“Warren, I…”
“Ever since that one drunken night I've wanted to kiss you again."
I want to hear a ring of truth, but I don't. “Why haven’t you, then?”
He doesn’t have an answer for me. In fact, he looks confused that I’d even ask.
“It just… the timing wasn’t right.”
I take a step back from him, rubbing my chest. This is wrong. All of this is so wrong. This isn't how it's supposed to go.
Hadn't I fantasized about kissing him lately? Isn't this something I wanted?
He follows me, snagging my wrist. I yank it away.
“Why are you being so weird, Zoe?”
“I’m being weird? I asked you to leave me alone, and you come in here and kiss me!”
My best friend shrugs, then shoves his hands into his pockets and leans against my desk. “It felt right.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean, I saw you in that dress, and all I could think about was that I had to have you.”
One of my hands moves to my stomach, clutching to keep my discomfort from pouring out of me. The other points at the door. “Get out of here, Warren. We’ll talk about this later.”
He raises his hands and starts backing away, finally realizing I’m serious. “Okay, okay, I’m going. But think about it, Zoe. It's time we stop denying what is happening between us. We were always meant to be together. We’re inevitable.”
Something about the way he says it makes my skin crawl, and I slam the door behind him and lock it as sweat rolls down the back of my neck.
The dress that I felt so powerful in feels tainted and too tight after that interaction.
My fingers tremble as I pull the zipper down and step out of the dress.
Why did that kiss from Warren make me so uncomfortable? It felt like my skin was two sizes too small.
He’s my best friend. Even if there was any hope of anything romantic between us, I wouldn't have had such a visceral reaction to his kiss.
I catch a glimpse of my reflection from the corner of my eye, and I turn to face it, wondering if I am going to see sharp teeth filling my mouth again.
I’m nearly naked, feeling more so than ever without my pendant, as I stare down the woman in the mirror and try to find something different about me.
I no longer feel like the woman I was before I touched that Gods-forsaken stone.
The changes are subtle. I don’t think I would notice if I weren’t examining every inch of me with a critical eye after learning about the changes Omegas undergo in the weeks after their Blessings.
It’s the way my waist tucks in a little more, my hips have spread a bit wider.
I noticed my hair and eyes were more vibrant when I first tried on the dress, but now my skin is diffused and blemish-free, and my breasts feel heavier.
What is happening to me? I can't blame a dress for pulling Warren to me or giving me fangs, but why does it feel like it's at the center of it all?
Was this Cameron's intention? Like Dominic, does he suspect I am an Omega, and he sent me this so I could see the change in myself?
Fate of the Flame is sitting on my desk, a bookmark shoved in between the pages of the story that has been haunting me.
Could the answers be in there?
I don’t bother getting dressed, snagging the book and lying on the bed with it. I open it to the marked page, then turn a few pages back, hoping there is something in the lead-up to that story that can answer a few questions.
As much as I want to deny it, it’s impossible to ignore that Ilota Blessed me. The voice in my head that commanded me to stand and proclaimed me an Omega was not an illusion.
But who was it? Was it whatever beast she Blessed me with? Is it possible that the Goddess of Fire spoke to me directly?
And why me? If I am a Daughter of Garnet, so is my mother. And my grandmother.
What makes me special?
I run my tongue over my teeth again, wondering when they’ll sharpen so I can examine them better and get an idea of what my beast is.
What beasts would a Fire Goddess have control over, anyway?
The book is useless. There are no records of any shifted forms associated with the Goddess. The only thing I can find is vague references to tithes and tributes given to Ilota. We no longer tithe to the Gods, but there are festivals in their honor. Except for Ilota.
I've heard that the Blessed will sometimes speak to their Gods, but I don’t believe that’s meant literally. Is it?
Is that what I should do? Should I speak to her and hope she responds?
How does one speak to a Goddess? Do I need to bow my head and close my eyes? Should I drop to my knees?
“Ilota?” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“Am I reading into things too much? Did you give me your Blessing? Why me? I’m nothing special.
And why now? You’ve withheld your Blessing for so long that people doubt you ever gave it.
” I run my fingers through my hair and exhale sharply.
This is crazy. I'm talking to myself half naked on my bed. “I’m not trying to be rude or doubt you or anything. I just have to know why.”
“That, Omega, is a very long story.”
The words may have well been screamed for how much they shake me to my core.
That was the voice from the ceremony.
The one that whispered when I lay face to face with a sabertooth tiger.
“Ilota? Is that you?”
“Yes, it's me."
“Did you really Bless me? Am I an Omega?”
“Yes.”
The one-word answer has me exhaling until my lungs are empty. “Why?
“Because you’re ready.”
“Ready for what?” My voice is loud, and I recognize that anyone walking by is going to hear me talking to myself, but I don’t care.
A fucking Goddess is in my head. I have more pressing things to deal with than what someone random thinks of me.
“To right the wrongs of this realm."