Chapter Twelve #2
Tobias was there. Another cousin. From what I’d observed, he was like Caine in personality—guarded, didn’t speak unless it was necessary.
They seemed relatively close, or at least as close as two people could get when they collectively shared the emotional depth of a brick.
He was one of the betas Caine had trusted most when we rescued Minnie.
He had an abundance of pack, ready and willing to obey his every command, but he had an inner circle: Aaron, Raegan, and Tobias.
Did he not trust the rest of his family?
Or were they not as useful to him? Maybe he was wary and only relied on a select few to keep the pack safe.
Considering the business he was in, I could understand.
It was strange, though. Other than his brother and Tobias, I’d never seen any of the others before today, only learned of them while Caine had prepared me.
Did they not visit him? Sure, I kept to my own wing, but there were rarely any scents in the house except Caine’s, mine, and Minnie’s—or his brother’s godawful aftershave.
It was usually just the beta staff and us.
I’d gathered his family would be huge from the numbers that had shown up for Minnie, but noting them all now, the sheer amount of his actual blood relations, it was baffling to me not a single one of them lived in his big old mansion.
Unless Caine had told them to leave because of me.
I stood there at Caine’s side while they talked among themselves, only tuning in when they asked me questions.
I answered them the way he had schooled me.
He’d given me a story to stick to on how we met.
It wasn’t quite a lie, but not the full truth either.
He didn’t want me handing out more knowledge of our situation than was necessary, risking our cover or divulging anything that could be used against us.
I’d studied the script until I could recite it backward, but it was an overwhelming and intricate amount of detail.
And the fucker had only given me two days.
An older Alpha, Caine’s great aunt, was yapping on about pedigree and the dilution of the pure lineages because of unsuitable pairings. She was referring to one of her distant Devereux relatives, an Alpha who’d mated with an omega from three districts below them.
I wondered if her hair would flash white if she knew what district I was actually from. Or would she back away slowly, clutching her pearls?
“You’ll not have to distress yourself with such a scandal, omega Devereux,” she said, addressing me directly. “As I’m sure your daughter has the finest match lined up already?”
My stomach flopped at the thought, but she was staring at me, expecting an answer. Was she fishing? Shit. Combating subtle mating proposals for Minnie wasn’t in the rehearsal. “Oh,” I floundered. “She’s only nineteen months old; it’s a little early to be thinking about that, no?”
Her eyes widened minutely, clearly not having anticipated anything other than polite agreement or refusal—at least I hadn’t told her to mind her business—though her shock was quickly overshadowed by tame delight.
She glanced up at Caine. “If you’re in search of prospects, Alpha Devereux, might I humbly remind you of my omega granddaughter.
She’s thirteen years old, and I believe she would be an—”
“Her cousin?” I spoke before realising my mouth had even opened, the disgust in my voice apparent, though thankfully an undertone. She was still taken aback by the sudden outburst, and I cursed my fucking tongue, my cheeks heating. “I uh, I’m—”
“He’s emotional,” Caine stated, swooping in to save the day. I was actually grateful for it, even if his response made me out to be a weak-minded omega. “He’s not yet accustomed to leaving our child.”
He wasn’t exactly wrong. I wasn’t used to leaving Minnie, but it had nothing to do with my rebuke of her damn meddling.
She could remain blissfully unaware of the truth, though. This time.
“Ah.” The Alpha nodded, a sympathetic smile playing at the edge of her mouth. Fake fucking witch. “Of course. Omegas are emotional beings, aren’t they?”
I glanced at the floor. Not to be demure—to hide my eyeroll—but it probably worked in my favour regardless. Fuck. That could have gone worse, but I’d have to be more careful, or make myself seem even more shy to avoid conversations entirely.
Thankfully, everyone dispersed to enjoy the party, and Caine and I migrated to the back of the room, which suited me.
At the edge, distant from the brunt of the attention.
Far enough away where the scents and sounds weren’t quite so harsh.
Caine was talking with his uncle barely a few feet from my position, his gaze flicking over every so often.
I just lingered near the wall, eyes unfocused because I’d become light-headed if I stared at all the commotion for too long.
I was so absorbed in my own head I barely noticed Caine striding over. “I’ll be a moment,” he alerted me, and I nodded as he headed away with Raegan.
A bud of anxiety rooted itself in my chest, my mind going straight to Minnie.
Was something wrong? Should I have followed them?
No. I had to trust everything was alright, and he would’ve told me if it wasn’t.
I couldn’t get worked up, couldn’t show I was frightened of something potentially happening again.
I needed space.
I needed to calm down.
With a quick scan to ensure no eyes were on me, I slipped off to the bathroom.
My lungs were already less constricted as I broke through the curtain into the hallway.
I maintained my composure while rounding two corners, and taking a left at the potted plant as the bodyguard had directed me.
My expression was steeled until I stepped through the bathroom door and checked no one else was there.
I blew out a withered sigh and collapsed against the see-through glass sink. Christ, even the bathroom was immaculate. I couldn’t even get a break from the pomp in here.
Still, I heaved in a deep breath, and another, my nerves gradually settling.
I wanted to rip the tie off my neck and flush it down the toilet.
The suit itself was gorgeous, tailored to perfection, but it was stuffy, and having to act all prim and proper while wearing it made it feel more like a straightjacket.
A few more hours. I only had to endure the humiliation and disrespect for a few more hours, and that’d be it. I could go back to the mansion, get the mating night over with, then return to how we were and never have to put on this level of performance again. I could do it.
I hoped.
I soaked one of the complimentary, embroidered hand towels and dabbed the sweat from my face, the tension in my shoulders melting with the coolness.
I checked my reflection, tucking a stray strand of hair back into my bun, hiding the blue.
I looked flushed, but not entirely ruined.
I didn’t recognise the person staring back at me.
Not that I didn’t look good—I could admit I scrubbed up well—but it definitely wasn’t me.
I left before working myself into a spiral about it.
In my wander back to the ballroom, I stopped at the junction of one of the corridors as a noise met my ears. Laughing. Well, giggling in fact, and having not heard that sound all fucking day, my feet gravitated toward it. I was silent as I traipsed down the wrong path, peeking around the corner.
It was Malia and her mate, far enough away they wouldn’t see me. They looked . . . ordinary? Not the same composed Alpha and obedient omega I’d met in the ballroom. They were relaxed, no longer the traditional picture of formality and elegance.
They looked in love.
“Fuck, Mina,” Malia rumbled against Yasmine’s jaw. She had her against the wall, one hand on her hip and the other next to her head, boxing her in. “I can’t wait to get you home. You’re driving me nuts.”
Mina laughed, the same sweet melodious sound that had lured me here. “You’re so impatient.” Her hand cupped Malia’s jaw, her dark eyes filled with the purest kind of adoration. Not submission, not the impulsive omega worship. Real love. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”
“Whatever you like,” she responded sincerely, her tone softer, more casual than it was earlier. “I’m all yours.”
They kissed, and I retreated, giving them privacy.
My head was whirring.
The display was a far cry from what I’d seen. Were they performing too? Hiding their true personalities in public for the sake of sticking to custom, and now, in private, they could be themselves.
Masks off.
A disoriented feeling swirled in my belly as I walked back to the ballroom.
From what Caine had relayed to me, I knew there would be a tone of optimum staging from the guests.
Showboating. Giving no one any cause to doubt they belonged among their peerage—on their best behaviour and conforming to what this circle of society deemed was right.
But the way he’d talked about it, as if all his peers did more than just act.
As if they lived it, breathed it, believed it, but just heightened it at these types of public events for ego’s sake . . .
This proved him wrong.
Or at least, it could.
“Least they’re not all sexist twats,” I muttered to myself before re-entering the main floor. Naturally, I wasn’t looking where I was going and stormed face first into a hard, solid chest. My cheeks heated and I glanced up to apologise.
It was Caine.
He looked furious.
“Where were you?” he whisper-hissed under his breath, blocking me from going any further into the room. We were at the side, so no one would bear witness to the dispute.
Or my responding fury.
“The bathroom,” I snapped, glaring up at him. “What, do I need my Alpha’s permission to take a piss too?”
His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. There was a shift in his expression then, and he dipped forward.