Chapter Twelve
DYLAN
“Inow pronounce you a mated pair,” the officiant declared, snapping her book shut. “You may exchange bites, if you wish.”
“There will be no need for a public spectacle,” Caine said, his voice a bored rumble. “It will be done privately.”
A wolf whistle came from the crowd gathered behind us. I knew it would be Aaron, but I didn’t dare turn around. I couldn’t. I was rooted to the spot, distant, unblinking eyes fixed on nothing in particular.
A mated pair.
That was it. An hour and a blur of formal declarations was all it took for us to be joined by law, tied together for the rest of our lives in front of a mob of witnesses.
I swallowed down the bitter lump in my throat.
The venue itself was beautiful, pure elegance, and way more than I ever could have imagined for myself.
It was a castle, which felt oddly fitting.
I hadn’t even known there was a castle in Ailemorth, though it was in an upper district, so why would I?
On the drive up, I’d expected it to have those suits of armour at the door and swords hanging from the walls.
Antique décor left over from medieval times.
It was nothing like that.
It was modern, and lavish, more palace than castle—if there was a difference?
There was in my head. A place fit for a king, but one whose tastes were more ornate.
Refined. I’d expected nothing less from the Devereuxes—from Caine.
The compulsion to impress, clearly using the occasion as an excuse to flaunt their wealth and status.
I was barely able to appreciate any of it.
The entire morning was fuzzy. I couldn’t remember getting ready, putting on my expensive suit, or what had happened once I arrived here.
The ceremony was a black spot in my memory.
It was fake, and when I did veer out of my deafening thoughts, I’d needed to concentrate on not fucking up.
The words that had left my mouth felt slurred on my tongue, but no one batted an eye.
It was actually a relief knowing Minnie was back at the house with Edith and the guards; not here, relying on me being present and attentive.
I missed her terribly, and wanted nothing more than to be there with her, but I couldn’t have given her my undivided attention.
I could barely even focus enough to urge one foot in front of the other.
With Caine’s hand resting possessively on the small of my back, I was led to the reception, a ballroom-style space with marble flooring, an ornamental ceiling, and a fucking obscene crystal chandelier draping from the centre.
The room was intimidating. If I spoke, would there be an echo?
Probably not with how crowded it was. People waiting for us, dressed to the nines, poised and perfect.
Strangers.
The sound of glasses clinking, a sea of murmuring voices I didn’t recognise. The scent in the air was cloying, a muted mix of Alpha and omega pheromones, and the cologne or perfume of betas. It was tolerable, but still unpleasant, and it set my teeth on edge.
I didn’t belong here.
Conversation stilled as we strolled in, all eyes turning to us. I wanted to disappear.
“Alpha Devereux,” another Alpha greeted as he strolled over with four betas and an omega in tow. The air grew chilly, hostile. There was no visible proof, no one even twitching, but I could sense the animosity. At least from Caine.
He gave a stiff nod of acknowledgement. “Veenstra.”
Ah, the leader of the pack below the Devereuxes—that was the extent of the personal information I knew about him.
Caine hadn’t given me any more when I’d asked, deeming him unimportant.
He’d warned me the mating of the supreme leader was a societal affair.
It required the heads of the other five elite families to attend and publicly regard our union.
They brought their own mates, their immediate family, a handful of bodyguards, but thankfully, not their entire pack.
That would’ve been even more overwhelming.
Everyone here had to believe this was not a sham, that we were doing it for more than just convenience. A united front.
I was given surnames, and that was all—two I’d already heard. There was nothing more I needed, he’d said, and though I was inclined to agree since staying separated from it was what I preferred, I couldn’t help wanting to know more about this guy. Purely because of how his presence bothered Caine.
“I knew you’d join the dark side eventually,” Veenstra joked, winking. He had an accent I hadn’t heard before. “Don’t worry, it’s not all bad.”
“As you say,” Caine returned, his voice devoid of any indication of his thoughts. Though, there was something.
Did it really matter?
Veenstra spoke in a language I didn’t understand, giving Caine a subtle nod before sauntering to the opposite side of the ballroom with his posse.
Within seconds, another Alpha was in his place.
It carried on for a while—the elites moseying over and offering Caine their congratulations, none of them acknowledging my existence.
I didn’t care. If they ignored me, it meant less chance of me being cheeky, and cursing their ancestors or some shit.
The controlled din resumed once the formal honours were given by the head families, everyone minding their business, seemingly just indulging in the social atmosphere.
A flurry of wait staff filtered through the curtained archways, brandishing trays of itty bitty finger food.
I had no appetite.
Next came the sporadic well wishes of everyone else in attendance.
The Devereuxes. I clocked them because of their matching dragonfly tattoos.
They didn’t all descend at once, thank fuck; they wandered over in fits and starts.
As it was a Devereux event, the venue was ninety percent them.
A show of strength in numbers, though since it was neutral ground, it couldn’t be the pack’s entire force.
Honestly, if this was just Caine’s blood relations, I dreaded to see exactly how many people were in the pack as a whole.
Guards were posted at every door, and Caine’s entire family tree was here.
There were a lot of them.
I zoned out, mostly, only blinking back to the room when someone addressed me, which was rare.
I’d noticed the clear dynamic. All the omegas were well-behaved, dressed like pretty trophy pieces, not a hair out of place.
No tattoos or dyed hair in sight. Meek. Mild.
Obedient. The Alphas were in charge. Caine had informed me this section of society might not be what I was used to—no fucking shit—so I’d had to learn their ways.
Speak only when spoken to, say the lines I’d rehearsed, defer to my Alpha, and act like I actually wanted this.
For Minnie’s sake, I had to put on a facade, perform for the masses, and I would if it kept her safe.
I didn’t like it, but whatever. I could be on my best behaviour.
For one night.
Caine seemed adamant on testing that theory, though.
More than once, he’d angled his face away whenever an omega approached, and it was really bugging the shit out of me.
I’d picked up the vibe he wasn’t impressed with this farce either, but his attitude toward the omegas didn’t seem faked.
As if he deemed himself too superior to be around them.
A size nine up his arse might make him reconsider.
“Ah, my little brother,” Aaron beamed, patting Caine on the arm. “Finally mated.”
The Alpha stiffened at the contact. “Don’t touch me.”
“Aw, don’t be stroppy,” his brother cooed, dismissing the warning, before waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Just think of the wedding night.”
The system of the elites confused me in many aspects.
As Aaron was a beta, he would never lead the pack, even though he was a minute older than Caine.
I mean, I got it—more oppressive hierarchy bullshit—but in my district, betas had as much right as Alphas, to an extent.
They could work the same jobs, had the same opportunities, and were treated fairly.
They just didn’t possess the senses, cycle, or dominance abilities.
They were . . . ordinary. Free from the restrictions and expectations.
It wasn’t the same here.
“You’re alone?” Caine asked, though it was rhetorical.
To anyone else it would’ve been a cutting jibe, but Aaron took it in his stride. “Ah, my date couldn’t make it. Fucked her too hard, her legs wouldn’t work. Sorry, bro.”
He hummed. “Pity.”
“I’ll be sure to bring my next one to the christening,” he teased. Though I sensed he wasn’t actually joking.
Most of the people I’d met in the past two hours had mates, except for him.
I supposed there wasn’t really much need for it.
He would never inherit anyway, so he could do as he liked.
It was the same with the youngest of Caine’s cousins, Penelope.
Their choice of partner wouldn’t matter because they’d never inherit the family business.
Though, when the time came, there would still be an arrangement.
That was how shit was done in high society.
“It’s good to finally meet you, omega Devereux,” Caine’s eldest Alpha cousin announced.
Her name was Malia, I believed. She was the one who would’ve inherited the title if it wasn’t for Minnie.
She had an omega tucked at her side. Her mate, Yasmine, and judging by the obvious bump and maternal scent, they had a baby on the way.
“Nice to meet you too,” I said politely, dipping my head.