Chapter 2 Noelle
Noelle
Ten years later
Everywhere I look, Christmas taunts me as I skirt around patches of treacherous ice on the cold, brisk streets of New York, dodging Alphas and Betas in smart business attire.
Not another Omega in sight, and how I dwarf everyone in my bright coat of bubblegum pink and purple hat, mittens, and scarf.
I'm on my way to Fatedbond Press, a publishing house whose main office overlooks the Rockefeller Center, and I bite the inside of my cheek.
All this bright Christmassy stuff is making me nauseous, and coming from someone who can't go a day without incorporating some color into her wardrobe, that's saying something.
Yet Christmas, despite its promise of new beginnings and its festive, warm, bright colors… has never been very kind to me.
That's because I got my heart broken once—just one week before Christmas, coincidentally enough—and despite my rather festive name, I decided to disown the holiday season altogether.
Which is why I ran away to New York in the end. The only problem is that Christmas time in New York is unparalleled.
It's the place where dreams are made, and thus, the concrete jungle becomes a place of pure wonder now as I move past various Santa Clauses and their ringing Yuletide bells.
Soon, the behemoth of a fir tree looms into view like a twinkling despot eager to make my life hell.
There, I spy the happy families on the ice-skating rink.
There's no missing the couples and packs as I try to keep it together, gazing up at the golden plaque right beside the revolving doors—the one that shines as brightly as the giant evergreen tree it's trying to emulate.
Fatedbond Press. Where stories find their happily ever after.
Yuck. I think I stepped in something earlier that didn't make me feel quite as queasy as that shiny plaque just now.
Hopefully, it's not just romance and overall Happily Ever Afters they're seeking here. Just maybe, they will take a chance on my off-kilter idea.
They seemed keen enough in their letter.
You can do this, Noelle. One foot in front of the other.
I step through the revolving doors, and the scent of cedar, pine, and cinnamon hits me like a whirlwind.
They really went to town on the potpourri in here.
Above the polished, oak wood desk of the front lobby—the one covered with red poinsettias—a framed picture of the Rockefeller Center’s Christmas tree greets me yet again, and here we go…
A cheery receptionist greets me behind the desk, and she's almost as red as the poinsettias. She even offers me a complimentary candy cane from a bowl, and it matches her red-and-white-striped tights perfectly.
Stacks of books line the shelves on the wall behind her, and I see titles with "Bond" and "Knot".
Yep. My off-kilter idea will definitely fit in here…
I clutch my manuscript to my chest as I take a seat in the waiting area, hoping they take a chance on me.
Lord knows I could do with a break.
My grandma has been ill all year, and Mom has had to travel back and forth to Silverpine to check in on her.
Sooner or later, I may have to head back myself, even though I vowed I would never go back to that place.
I can't. Because if I see them again, I'm not sure what I’d do. What I would say…
It's been ten long years.
"Mr. Merrick is ready to see you now, Ms. Hale," the receptionist says, and I try out my breathing exercises next, closing my eyes.
Now I get up from the cushy seat, following her into the back office. The air is infused with pine air freshener as I follow the receptionist to Mr. Merrick's office.
She knocks on the door. "Ms. Hale is ready to see you now, sir."
"Yes, yes, bring her in!"
A booming voice answers her, and my heart pulses in my throat as I try to keep it together.
You've got this.
Finally, I step into the office, finding the back of an older Alpha as he gazes out at the ice-skating rink. I don't move for a while as he laughs at the happy families.
The tree still mocks me outside.
He turns around at last, and lo and behold… It's Santa himself. He may lack the red and white suit, but he does sport a pair of red suspenders beneath his pinstriped suit. And he even has a white beard and mustache, too.
"Please, take a seat, Ms. Hale."
I do as he instructs, taking my seat in front of his large bureau. I have to refrain from laughing when I spy the name on his plaque.
Nicholas Merrick. Editor-in-chief.
Nicholas… This is all too much.
If he starts bellowing, "Ho, ho, ho," then I’m out of here.
"Welcome to Fatedbond Press," Mr. Merrick begins.
"Let me just preface by saying that we are all so thrilled to have you here, Ms. Hale. However, my team tells me that your manuscript is rather... unconventional. So, I feel that it is my duty to inform you that our Omega readers expect at least some romance and a happy ever after in their favorite books, especially at this time of year.”
Why am I not surprised?
The Alpha leans back in his chair, and it creaks beneath his weight. “So, please…would you explain your vision for this book further?”
I take a deep breath next as I start to explain my book to him, and his smile falls with every word that escapes my mouth.
"So, the Omega doesn't end up with the pack?" he says.
I clear my throat. "Not officially. I decided to leave it open-ended. I decided that in this story, the Omega should choose herself. It ends with not a bond mark but with endless possibilities."
Mr. Merrick raises a bushy white brow. "I see…"
An awkward silence stretches through the room: all the while, the music from the ice-skating rink filters in through the fogged window.
I'll be hearing those jingles all night in my sleep.
He pushes up the half-moon glasses on the hooked bridge of his nose. "So, let me get this straight… You want the Omega to be alone at Christmas? Not even a kiss beneath the mistletoe?"
I have to bite my tongue to hold back from what I really want to say. I'm too outspoken for my own good.
Here it comes. The imminent rejection, "At Fatedbond press, we only accept happy stories filled with hope and promise… we don't want to make our readers sad. We want to make them happy..."
But Mr. Merrick surprises me when he blurts, "All right. I'm interested, Ms. Hale."
I have to blink several times to ensure I am hearing correctly.
Wait. Did he…?
"You will actually consider my idea?"
Mr. Merrick smiles, and his rosy cheeks reach his eyes. "What can I say? I see something in you. Ms. Hale. You remind me an awful lot of my own granddaughter. She's just as tenacious and determined to prove to the world that she doesn't need an Alpha or a pack to make her way in this world, too."
My eyes pop. I have no idea what to say, but one thing I do know: I want to meet his granddaughter! I'd kiss her if I could.
"In fact, she was the one who suggested your manuscript to me. She's doing her internship here at Fatedbond Press.”
I'm loving the sound of her even more.
"What's her name?" I ask.
He grins. "Holly. She's never been a fan of the name."
We even have similar Christmas-themed names. Ironic.
"Well, we will be in touch, Ms. Hale. Mrs. Taylor will see you out."
I'm filled with butterflies now as I leave the publishing house and step out onto the streets of New York again. For once, the sparkling lights don't tease me.
They're… actually interested in my idea.
I jump up into the air and squeal. Fortunately, everyone is too busy with Christmas shopping to notice the anomaly that is an excited Omega out on the street.
Now, I walk with an extra spring in my step, and I even drop a couple of dollars into one of the Santas' buckets as I hold my head toward the sky, embracing the snowflakes on my cheeks.
Finally, everything is looking up for me.
It's just unfortunate that the next text on my phone chases away all the serotonin in my veins.
It's Mom.
"Come home. Nana is getting worse."
Well, there goes my Christmas spirit. It looks as if I will be going back to Silverpine after all.
The place where my heartbreak began.