6. Nora
6
Nora
"I've never even heard of Pack Sloane! How could you do this to me? How could you match with a pack with low standing?"
It's been like this since Nolan dropped me off last night. While Mother is excited I've finally found a pack and proven my training was not for naught, she's worried that the pack will not be what's expected of me as the Perfect Omega.
Truthfully, I'm a little worried as well. Nolan is gorgeous, with dark eyes and long eyelashes, and his physique is all Alpha. He's tall and strong and his skin is this deep shade of brown that almost glowed under the light of the moon.
He's everything I could've hoped for in an Alpha, even if I don't know what his job is.
But I don't know what the rest of the pack is like.
Sure, I met Joey, but he's a Beta, and since Betas can't bond, he's not part of the perfect pack. But that's okay. He was nice to me, and his face was handsome and kind. The thought that I'm going to have him around makes my head feel a little floaty.
"I'm just saying, Nora, you have to make sure this pack is camera-ready. Once word gets out that you are matched, requests for interviews are going to pour in. They need to know what they're getting into when they become a part of your life. That Nolan will be fine, even if his name isn't worth anything in the media," Mother continues.
"Mother, it will be fine. They're fine Alphas, and they know who I am." It's only a little lie. I'm sure Nolan has told all of them about me, so they definitely know who I am. I'm sure someone like Nolan will have a perfectly designed pack.
I continue packing up my things under my mother's unwavering supervision. All of my dresses, shoes, hair accessories, and makeup go in one bag. "Remember, dear, athletic wear is not for lounging around the house. Only pack enough for your time at the gym. Make sure you're always in a dress for them at home. No Alpha wants to come home to a slob."
My mother is always put together, her hair perfectly styled and her clothes impeccably pressed. I have always been inspired to be the Omega she is. "Yes, Mother, I will make sure that I am always put together for my Alphas." I grab another pink duffle bag and put in five athletic outfits, as well as three pretty nightgowns and all of my undergarments. While I'm packing, mother steps out of the room. I turn around, and she is holding a pink box.
"I got this for you as a gift for when you found your pack," she says, smiling and gently placing the box in my arms.
Putting it on the bed and removing the lid, I feel my face heat as soon as I peer into the box. It's filled with beautiful lingerie that leaves very little to the imagination. All of it is dainty, covered in tulle and lace, and in varying shades of pastel pink, yellow, and white. "Oh, Mother," I sigh. "It's gorgeous. Thank you for the generous gift."
She beams as I pull it out of the box and delicately fold it into the duffle bag. "You need to be prepared. As soon as you move in, you need to go off of your suppressants. You need to put your best foot forward when it comes to your heat. They will be expecting a lot out of you." When I get to the bottom of the box, I see a small book. It's clearly from Dr. Greene, and across the front of it, the title declares it's a step-by-step guide to the ideal first heat.
Blushing, I bury the book at the bottom of my bag. All that is left is to pack up my nest. Mother stops me fairly quickly, though. "Only pack up a few things. You need to make sure your nest is acceptable to your Alphas, so you need to get their approval for what's in it. You can use my card to purchase what you need, but after that, I'm going to expect your pack to be supporting you."
I nod and gather my favorite stuffed animal, a little white kitten, and the blanket that my grandmother knit for me. When everything is packed, Mother and I carry my bags to the door and stack them.
"Now, let's go make some refreshments for when your Alphas arrive," she says, pushing me into the kitchen.
After baking lemon bars, my favorite dessert, and making bruschetta, I prepare a bar cart with all of the ingredients to make the perfect Negroni. This classic cocktail is loved by most Alphas because of its bitter aftertaste. According to the Design Clinic, the gene for enjoying bitter foods is highly correlated with an Alpha designation.
"Go, go, freshen up before they get here," my Mother urges while I'm fussing over the placement of the cocktail tools and the bucket of square ice.
I untie my apron and run to my room to make sure I look perfect. Standing in front of the floor-length mirror, I adjust the bodice of my fit and flare dress, admiring how the pale green color complements my slightly pink skin. I've decided to wear my hair down today, but I tie a ribbon around my head in white to match the subtle star embroidery on the dress. With a pair of white heels, a swipe of baby pink gloss, and some blush on the apples of my cheek, I am ready to meet my Alphas.
Perching on the edge of the sofa, I remind myself that I'm supposed to know them already, and I can't act like this is my first time meeting them. I hope Nolan explained that to them as well. Omegas aren't supposed to lie, but I don't think this one will harm anyone.
When the doorbell rings, I feel like my heart is going to burst from my chest.
They're here! My Alphas are here! I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for this moment.
My mother nods from her position in the sitting chair, indicating I need to be the one to answer. With a deep breath, I center myself, slap on a wide smile, and open the door.
Nolan is in front of me, with the rest of the Alphas lined up behind him. I strain to see them, but my attention is snagged as his face cracks open in the widest smile I've ever seen. "Sweetheart," he sighs, pulling me into a hug. His orange zest and pine scent overwhelm me, and I feel my body go slack in his arms.
It takes me a few seconds to regain my composure, and I step back, holding my arm wide to welcome the pack into my home. They file past me, each with smiles on their faces, even if some are wider than others.
I'm not sure of the etiquette of this since we're pretending we know each other already. One of them, a short, thin man with messy blonde hair and gold-wired glasses, pulls me into his arms as he passes me. He's barely taller than me, with warm blue eyes and a gentle demeanor. "I'm Levi," he whispers in my ear, where my mother can't hear him. I bury my face in his neck, overwhelmed by the safety I feel in his arms. He smells like leather and spices, and the sheer masculinity of it is at odds with his slight appearance and elderly professor clothing choices. He's even wearing a herringbone blazer, something I never thought I'd see an Alpha in.
Levi holds me out at arm's length and sighs deeply. "You're stunning."
After that, I direct the men to the table, and they all sit slowly, looking around a bit in a way that tells me they are uncomfortable. In hopes of soothing them, I place the tray of bruschetta in front of them and push the bar cart over to the table. "I prepared bruschetta for you all, and I'd like to make you all cocktails if you're up for them?"
My mother comes into the room and sits at the head of the table, watching the Alphas with a judgmental glare. One of the Alphas is covered in tattoos, even on his hands and neck, and his hair is bleached blonde. His dark roots are showing, but somehow, it works for him. He's handsome, even if he is very lanky and not muscled like an Alpha should be. In fact, I'm not sure if there is much muscle tone on him at all. He's dressed in denim and a plain white shirt, and he doesn't look like he wants to be here. Regardless, he leans forward, grabs one of the crostinis, and pops it into his mouth.
I watch expectantly, excited to see the first time one of my Alphas eats my food. His eyes widen a bit, almost as if he's shocked, but he drops his face into a passive expression just as quickly.
I'm not sure why, but that makes my chest hurt.
While I start to make Negronis for each of the men, my mother launches into questioning, demanding everyone tell her who they are and what they do, like it's a job interview or something. I find it terribly rude.
"Well," Nolan begins, all smiles and warmth, "as you already know who I am, I suppose I can start. I'm a personal trainer. I own Alphamatic downtown." He's wearing a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black slacks. He looks so easy, so comfortable. It immediately puts me at ease.
"A business owner!" my mother gushes. "Well, that is a very respectable career choice." I pass him his cocktail, and he takes a small sip. I beam down at him.
Levi is sitting next to him. He smiles warmly but nervously removes his glasses to clean them with his shirt. "I'm Levi. I'm a teacher. Uh, high school geometry."
A teacher is not a typical Alpha job, but Levi seems so sweet I can't find it in myself to care. He takes the cocktail from me with a shy smile. My mother, however, is not impressed. "I thought only Betas were teachers. I've never heard of an Alpha who taught."
Levi chokes a little on his drink, eyes wide with worry. Nolan places a gentle hand on his forearm. I cock my head to the side, trying to figure out the strange intimacy of the gesture. An Alpha shouldn't need reassurance like that. "Levi is well respected in the community with several advanced degrees. He could be a professor of higher education if he wanted to be, but he thought it was important that teenagers of all designations have a good Alpha role model."
Mother barely reacts to the words, effectively icing Levi out, and turns to the man with the bleached hair. "And you are?"
He snags another bruschetta, and I beam. So he does like them!
"I'm Chase. I own several restaurants around the city, and I'm the executive chef as well." I like his voice. It's scratchy like he smokes a lot, but there is a lot of pride in his words, even if it seems like he's trying to hide it.
I hope he doesn't actually smoke because that would not be acceptable.
"Oh!" I say, holding out his cocktail. "Which restaurants? I…," I glance at Nolan, who gives me a small nod, "I don't think I even thought to ask you last night. I apologize for my oversight."
Chase gives me an odd look, leaning back in his chair to distance us, so I place the cocktail on the table and retreat back, his disapproval evident. I don't know what I said to upset him, but I don't like that I've already upset one of my Alphas. It doesn't help that I couldn't get close enough to scent him, either.
"Bea's Kitchen," he says, taking a long, slow sip of his drink. "Named them after my mother. She taught me how to cook."
"I've been there!" I exclaim, putting my hand on my mother's shoulder. "Mother and I went once with Dr. Greene from the Design Clinic after an event." Mother grins, pleased about there being another business owner in the group.
"Those restaurants are quite well known," she says, sipping on a glass of champagne. "I can't believe I haven't heard of you or your pack before. I would think you'd be high profile."
He shakes his head, a scoff escaping his lips. "I prefer to stay out of the limelight."
"Well, that may be a problem," Mother says, patting my hand where it rests. "Just because Nora here is getting matched doesn't mean her responsibilities to the Design Clinic get forgotten."
What? Do I still have to do press conferences?
I don't want to ask my mother what that is about with the Alphas here, but my confusion must show on my face because Nolan interrupts my mother as she continues to go on and on about how much I owe the Clinic. "That is something we will decide as a pack, Ms. Summers." He turns to the final Alpha and gives him a nod to introduce himself.
The final Alpha has a smirk on his face that makes me feel a bit like I'm prey. It's a strange sensation I feel deep in my gut. It's not negative, per se, but it is confusing and new. He's handsome, in a classic heartthrob way, with dark shaggy hair and a strong nose. He's wearing tight black denim, black boots, and a black t-shirt with a leather jacket on top. He looks like the type of man my mother would make me cross the street to avoid.
"I'm Blaine," he says in a dark and sickly sweet voice that drips like molasses. I can envision myself getting stuck in it. "I work in computer programming, ma'am."
Mother doesn't have much to say to that, so she just nods and then turns to me. "Nora, you're being a bad host. Go grab dessert for your Alphas."
Embarrassed at my faux pas, I scramble to the kitchen to grab the lemon bars. When I turn around, Blaine is behind me, leaning on the counter. He's even more handsome up close.
"Hello, little Omega," he coos. "Come here, let me smell you."
I squeak at how forward he's being, but he is my Alpha now, so I set down the bars and step towards him. He grabs my hand and pulls me close, burying his face in my neck. "Honeysuckle," he purrs, nuzzling against my skin. His breath is warm, and it makes me feel a bit weak in my knees.
I relax into his hold, my body resting on his, when I dip my face into his neck and inhale deeply. A needy whine escapes my throat before I can stop it.
I jump from his arms and back up, face red, hands over my mouth. "Oh my goodness, I am so sorry. I don't know where that came from. I know I'm only supposed to whine when I'm in heat. I'm so embarrassed. Please do not hold this against me. It won't happen again." I bury my face in my hands, but that doesn't last long.
He's pulling my hands down, and his scent overwhelms me. It's rich and dark, with spice. He smells like gingerbread, the molasses in his voice translating to his scent. "Baby, I don't know who told you that, but you go ahead and whine whenever you want to," he purrs sensually.
Despite his assurance, I'm still mortified that I have already broken a rule. "Please don't be mad at me, I'm so sorry. I will do better; it was a minor lapse in judgment." I inhale deeply, rubbing my hands down my skirt to straighten it.
"Hey. Look at me." The small bark in his voice demands I lock eyes with him. "Whoever told you you can't whine whenever you need to is wrong, do you hear me?" I nod slowly. I have been told my whole life it is uncouth to whine for your Alpha if you're not in heat. Why is he telling me differently? "I'm thrilled that my scent makes you whine, baby." He leans into my neck and nips softly at the flesh, and I gasp at the unexpected heat that courses through me. "Now, get your cute butt back out there so we can finish this up and take you home."
The command helps center me, giving me much-needed direction, and I pick up the bars and head back to the dining room. The tray of bruschetta is now empty, and I beam as I collect it. I place the lemon bars in the center of the table and duck my head as I say, "These lemon bars are my favorite. It's the first dessert I ever learned to make during my Omega training. I hope you enjoy them."
Blaine makes a big show of grabbing one and groaning as he bites into it. Speaking with his mouth full, he says, "Fuck, these bars are as perfect as you are." My mother gasps at his profanity, but I hurt my face with how wide I smile.
Each of the men takes one and bites into it, all of them singing soft praises of them. Even Chase, who has seemed very standoffish, nods curtly at me and says, "These are good. Thanks, Nora."
The men all stand up, and I collect their glasses and the now-empty tray of bars and carry them to the kitchen. My mother follows me as they carry my things to their car. "I'm not sure how I feel about this pack, Nora."
"Well, Mother, they're my scent match. It's not like you have a choice in who I match to."
She is frustrated, I can tell. She grabs my wrist, squeezing tightly. "You have an image to uphold. As much as you need to be the Perfect Omega, your new pack will need to become the Perfect Pack. I hope, for your sake, you can guide them in that direction." She drops my wrist and shoves me backward slightly.
I rub the reddened skin and leave the kitchen, walking out the front door. "Goodbye, Mother."