7. Piper
CHAPTER 7
Piper
I think at this point I should have some urge to nest, to decorate my quarters, fill my rooms with cozy items that make me happy. After all, I’ve been given a credit card by Rook and assured that it has basically unlimited funds on it. But I haven’t bought anything except some cat food with it.
My Alphas are supposed to be doting on me, but they aren’t doing that at all. In fact, I’ve barely seen them, between Rook being busy with his political campaign, Erain working on an upcoming art competition, and Teddy prepping for football season.
I want to not care, but I feel more trapped every day. If it wasn’t for my kittens, I don’t know what I’d do.
Finding them was the luckiest thing.
I had been wandering around the palace grounds, by myself of course, when I followed a weak little trickling stream and made it all the way to the end of the property. Back here, as far away from the palace as you could get, there was a little cottage next to the boundary line.
I was delighted to see that past the cottage there was a bit of forest. I couldn’t tell how deep it was, but some trees were better than nothing.
I headed past the house when I was stopped by the sound of mewling.
Curious, I stopped to see where it was coming from, even more interested to see a big pie on a windowsill, suspended in some sort of spindly contraption.
Just as I took an appreciative sniff, a naughty little orange kitten hopped up and shoved the pie all the way over on the ground.
A man’s head popped up over the sill. He was a big man in his early 50s, with wild mad scientist hair and a handlebar moustache.
“My dear sister, I am afraid the Pie Saver 2000 was an utter failure.”
Then the kitten slipped on what looked like a little puddle of strawberry pie filling and went off the windowsill too.
But I was there, darting forward and catching the kitten in my arms.
The man blinked at me. “Clever girl,” he said. “Would you like a piece of pie?”
“I don’t know about that,” I said, looking at where it was upended onto a pile of dirt. “It doesn’t look in great shape.”
The man laughed, giddily, and it was unhinged but also appealing.
“I always make a backup,” he said. “Come on in.”
And that’s how I met Otis and Mary. Mary was the groundskeeper at the Palace, and Otis was her older brother. Mary was calm, competent and quiet, a short-haired woman in her 40s.
Otis, on the other hand, was talkative and outgoing, unemployed and living with his sister, but did all the cooking, cleaning, and laundry.
“I’m looking for work,” he said. “But in the field of Spirit Guidance and Mediation. I also dabble in inventions and competitive baking.”
I sat down for a cup of tea and a large slice of delicious strawberry and rhubarb pie, topped with a huge dollop of Otis’ homemade cream.
One hour turned into the next, and I left with three baby kittens and Otis’ assurances that the Spirits from Beyond were very friendly toward me.
The only thing that made life bearable that week was going through the gardens to visit Otis and Mary, which I did almost every day as Otis and I gossiped about everyone at the Palace and Mary whittled and shook her head affectionately at us.
Alphas got married fast. Omegas were supposed to want to get their nests ready fast. But I was not in the mood to do either, and the less my Alphas wanted anything to do with me, the more I dreaded my rapidly approaching wedding.
The first tiny glimmer of hope came when I went to the dress fitting.
Alpha and Omega weddings are big, star-studded events and the Skystone Pack wedding would kick off weeks of lengthy, impressive wedding ceremonies.
I didn’t like the idea of hundreds of other Alpha, Omegas, and high-ranking Betas I didn’t even know watching me, but like everything else that’s happened to me since coming to the Capitol, I knew there was no way out.
However, when I went to the official Omega bridal shop, I relaxed a bit.
Most of the dresses looked designed for the more usual body type an Omega had: petite and slender.
But then I saw a dress I instantly had to try on.
It was perfect, long lacy white sleeves with forest-colored green ribbons, the bodice and side a riot of different colored leaves and flowers.
It looked nothing like the kind of boring wedding dress Omegas usually wore and I. . .loved it.
It reminded me of the mountains outside my home, of the woods that always surrounded us, and made me happy. And it was bold and eye-catching. Like me.
I was skeptical of this entire thing, the mates, the marriage, the ceremony, but trying on this dress was the first thing that gave me a tiny smidgen of hope.
Maybe everything would work out.
Maybe perfuming and going into heat would change everything.
I was twirling around and looking at myself, even though I’m not usually a twirler, when I heard a noise and saw Erain in the doorway.
He had his arms crossed, and I felt my stomach turn over. As usual, he looked cold and arrogant, disgustingly beautiful in the way Alphas were, an evolutionary holdover from the caveman days. Nothing more. I clamped my mouth against the cool snap of his wintry scent.
“We were thinking you’d wear this dress,” Erain said, nodding to an assistant carrying an enormous cupcake-shaped bag. “It’s more suitable for an Omega.”
With a flourish, he pulled it out.
Ah, now this looked like the kind of stuff Omegas usually wore. It was all right, but it just wasn’t me .
Tight and uncomfortable-looking, it had a fitted bodice with a huge mermaid tail fanning out from my calves and huge puffed sleeves. Was that a bustle ? It was just absolutely the last thing I would pick.
“I really like this one,” I said, pointing down at myself.
Erain’s mouth seemed to tighten, his high aristocratic cheekbones and face got even more austere and disapproving.
“I think,” Erain said stiffly, “this dress would help .”
Help what?
I felt miserably shamed and furious.
He dragged his eyes away from the distance to look at me. They were cold and blue. Like there was no interest and not the smallest scrap of affection there.
Weren’t your Alphas supposed to have some interest in you? Was all that stuff about scents total bullshit?
After all, he smelled good to me. Wintry and cool, like a sleigh ride through the forest at Christmas. Crisp and exciting, with coiled passion below the surface.
God, I wished again that Omega suppressants weren’t illegal so I wouldn’t have to love the scent of someone I fucking hated.
For a beat I said nothing.
But he was my Alpha. They were all my Alphas, no matter what I had to say about it, and I was going to have to learn to live with them.
There was no way out of a mate bond. On our wedding night, I would go into heat and they would knot and bite me.
Slowly, I reached out my hand for the dress.
It felt wrong in my hands, stiff and uncomfortable.
And that asshole Erain didn’t even look satisfied.
He nodded once, then twice, then turned to leave.
And I’m supposed to be knotted by this man?
We can barely stand to be in the same space.
“I need an invitation for my friends,” I said, “for the wedding.”
Erain’s eyes flicked up and down my body, barely even landing on my face.
“The caterers have already been arranged,” he said. “There’s no room for anyone else.”
Without another word, he turned to go. The doorway wasn’t designed for Alphas, and he had to turn his broad shoulders sideways to get through. I watched him leave with a nauseated feeling in my stomach.
But I put on the damn dress, and it looked and felt just as awful as I thought it was going to.