6. The Power Of The Stars Align
The Power Of The Stars Align
~ASTRAEA~
“ D amn, who the hell is she?”
“I don’t fucking know, but she’s hot for an Omega.”
“She ain’t all that to me.”
“No one meets your standards. Just admit you’re pissed because you got rejected by that other Omega!”
“Shut the fuck up.”
The deep chuckles of men in suits at one of the twenty-plus tables encourage me to smirk while sipping on my drink. I really shouldn’t be drinking, but after the second drink and three sets of packs I’ve gone through, I couldn’t care less.
I knew this was going to be another flop in the books.
This Elite Party at Sacred Divine is indeed meeting the quota of Rich Cocky Alpha packs. Not to say they aren’t handsome, well-off financially, and carry plenty of assets to make any Omega go gaga in the excitement of being chosen by a set that can ensure they’re never on the streets.
But God, they’re so full of themselves.
The last three pack sessions were nothing but being talked “at.” The best way of defining it is having three to four men boast and speak of all their accolades, careers, business success, and what a privilege it would be to be their Omega, but having no say on what your purpose in their dynamic is.
Yes, I’m the lovely Omega they get to fuck during Heats and have their knot stuck in for minutes if not hours. I’m the one who will be forced to have plenty of children for this pack and hope they come out only as Alphas since all three packs were very disdained by the idea of giving birth to an Omega.
God forbid they bring a female into the world.
The crazier part is they don’t know enough of our kind to realize there are male Omegas as well.
With my purpose only revolving around being a baby-making oven who talks once in a new moon and is good for fucking on the sideline, there was no importance on what I do for a living, my hobbies or talents, and what future I see with their pack.
None of that nonsense.
Heck, the last pack talked about buying a motorcycle, and I wondered if he’d let their Omega ride it. The sheer horror and disgust that morphed on their faces at the idea of their Omega doing anything like driving a bike with an engine was all I needed to witness.
I picked up my drink and said, ‘Have a good night, Alphas.’
I knew the pool of Alphas was bad from the word through the haven of other Omegas struggles to find a pack, but fuck.
This is horrendous.
No wonder why Omegas are trying to take their power back by setting new boundaries that are legally enforced because what the fuck is this?
We’re sex slaves who talk and are forced to raise a bunch of kids who will be thrown into rich-ass societies and made into replicas of their Alpha Fathers? God forbid one of them is female.
With the way they were talking, none of the packs perceived to want a female child.
How are we going to aid in the decline in the female Omega population when all these packs don’t want a daughter?
Maybe it’s a blessing because forcing an innocent female babe to a group of men who disdain its existence will only set that child up for failure.
They don’t deserve that type of suffering.
“How is your dining experience thus far, Miss Sol?” I look to the attendant who comes by my table, clearly noticing I’m taking a break compared to all the other Omegas working overtime to swoon these men’s dicks long enough to exchange contact information.
“It’s fine, thank you,” I brush it off because I don’t need her to go off on the importance of interacting with these packs. I’m not here to be an entertainer. Nor am I being paid to waste my time.
We’re only forced into these stupid meets thanks to the lovely government, which doesn’t know how to instill legal morals onto the population they’re working overtime to pamper. Crazy how they say this is a man’s world, but who are the ones truly running it?
Women.
They don’t mark Beyoncé’s ‘Run the World’ song as an underground Omega anthem song for no reason.The thought has me smirking to myself while taking another sip of my drink.
“Are you sure, Miss Sol? I do have another pack on the list that could fit your interest?” she offers with a hopeful expression. She has to be paid extra nicely with how glowy her skin is. Not a blemish of imperfection in sight.
“I’m not interested,” I admit.
“B-But…”
“Too good for us, Omega?”
I pause in sipping my drink to look to my left, noticing the tall Alpha in a brown suit. Taking him in from head to toe, I can already tell he’s not my vibe at all.
His scent reminds me of dark coffee mixed with… spinach.
Wrinkling my nose, I correct my posture to give him a moment of acknowledgment.
“No. I’ve just exhausted my social battery and can’t be bothered.” There is no point in not being blunt.
“As an Omega, no one else cares about your social capabilities,” he notes in a condescending tone. I have to fight not to roll my eyes. “Our table is scheduled to meet you.”
“How lovely,” I mutter but look uninterested. “Can I have the tab for this, please,” I say to the attendant.
“U-U-Um, sure!” She rushes to get it for me while the Alpha chuckles.
“What? Expecting me to pay for your surplus of alcohol?”
“If you had the financial capabilities, you wouldn’t be bringing it up to begin with,” I note, realizing I’m being far too blunt.
No fucks are given when I’m tipsy. Oh boy… I’m getting myself into shit. I know it.
Velvet, Kamari, and even Knox have warned me not to drink at events.
The more I drink, the bolder I get, and goodness.
I can’t back down from fights or challenges.
I’m a wild mess, but after such a boring evening when I worked hard to look so fucking good, I couldn't care less now.
In the words of my bestie, ‘YOLO.’
“Excuse me?” He huffs while his face is already getting red.
“Who’s the sexy hottie?” A guy with dirty orange hair walks over to the fuming dude. His suit is just tacky. Black and inexpensive because it’s far too ‘shiny.’ I’m looking at men who are trying to project they’re well-off, but they’re not.
There’s nothing wrong with that, but be honest. Don’t con the world into thinking you’re some millionaire when you’ve never sniffed the air of that tax bracket.
“Miss Sol,” the guy mocks my name, and I’m pretty glad I didn’t use my full name of Soleil, or they would know exactly which wealthy family I come from.
With five extremely successful Fathers, my mother’s drama is nothing in comparison to their utmost success in the Alpha Society.
Since Alphas, in general, typically overshadow Omega’s achievements to begin with, their flaws are brushed under the rug just as quickly.
“Well, Miss Sol. Why are you over here and not at our table?” Dirty Orange wonders. “Our boys are waiting.”
“I declined the offer,” I say with a slight shrug. “I have other important appointments to attend to.”
“What’s more important than meeting with worthy Alphas of the Rosedale pack?” Dark Coffee Spinach barks. “No one would miss out on such a graced opportunity.”
Rosedale pack…
“It’s a shame I have to be the first,” I conclude, not budging away from the idea of getting the fuck out of here. I’m over this entertainment bullshit.
“Stubborn Omegas like you need to remember your place,” Dark Coffee Spinach snarls as his hand comes down on the table while he leans further in to growl in my face.
The sound should rile me up or maybe leave me trembling in fear, but I don’t react to it at all. Odd. I realized long ago that I don’t react to many Alphas as I should.
Other Omegas are forced to submit to any Alpha’s dominance, but me, it’s never been that way. Even my fathers struggled to tame me when I’d have tantrums when I was little. They must have been thankful that I didn’t have many, or else that would have been troublesome—and noticeable.
“I remember very clearly where I stand on the hierarchy, Black Coffee Spinach,” I mutter as I grin defiantly, noticing how he wrinkles his nose as though he’s struggling hard to inhale my scent up close.
He can try to hide it all he wants, but his eyes that fill with lust and hunger can’t keep his desires concealed. He likes what he sees and enjoys my scent, and I’m sure his mind is going into overdrive, desperately envisioning what sinful things he’d love to do with me.
Alphas always enjoy getting ahead of themselves.
“Black Coffee Spinach?” Dirty Orange ponders with a look that questions my audacity. “Is that what he smells like to you?”
“You’ve got some brains, Dirty Orange,” I toss the double-handed compliment insult. There’s no need to sugarcoat anything right now. I have no intention of being around these men ever again, so why do I have to be all submissive and kind to a set of fuckers who can’t give me an ounce of respect.
They sure respect the idea of fucking me, but that’s it.
“D-Dirty Orange,” he gasps in horror before he looks at his appearance. “I bathed today just for the occasion.”
Why does that tell me that bathing isn’t an essential daily activity on this man’s agenda?
“That snarky lip of yours won’t be saying much when it’s forced around my cock and stuck with my knot in it!” Dark Coffee Spinach snarls.
“It would never get down to that because I don’t get on my knees for just any Alpha,” I offer as I lean back in the cushioned seat, staring into the glaring eyes of this Alpha, who is trembling in frustration. “Why don’t we stop this nonsense? Your tactics of control aren’t working their charm, Dark Coffee Spinach. If we look at the book of hierarchy between Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, it looks like your controlling charm has malfunctioned tonight. Could be the alcohol, but you don’t look relatively tipsy unless you’re broken.”
“B-Broken?” he growls, and I’m sure it’s taking him everything not to punch me in the face. Not a good sign. “You think because that new movement was approved that I can’t drag you by the hairs to the alleyway and fuck that bitch attitude out of you?”
“I’d love to see you try,” I offer in return, ready to break this man’s nose before he can lay a hand on me. I’m already mapping it out in my mind—the switch in my mindset encouraging my breathing to slow further so I can focus my attention on any form of movement.
“You fucking cunt ass bitch,” he snarls, and I’m positive he’s going to grab my neck with the jerk movement of his right arm, but I notice the movement from my left. A pale arm comes in front of my neck swiftly enough to block the potential grab that seems to look like a punch now that Dark Coffee Spinach’s fist has been stopped.
“Now, now. Who said you can touch my Sweet Hummingbird?”
I blink, immediately catching the Korean accent that comes from my left. The way my body purrs from the sound has my gaze swiftly looking for the source. That leaves me frozen in place as lips lightly press on my forehead in the form of a greeting.
The touch sets my insides on fire, while between my legs is pooling with slick in seconds. Mere seconds! I have to thank myself for remembering to take a perfume blocker before getting into the Uber, or else this place would be a floral destination.
Or plagued with whatever scent I give off.
Turquoise Blue eyes meet mine, making me realize they have to be contact lenses because of how vividly bright they are. Then there are the platinum white strands of hair, the style one of the popular Soft Leaf Cut that fits his sharp jawed face. His complexion looks naturally pale and proves to further compliment his flawless complexion.
I’m more intrigued by the single silver earring hanging from his left ear, the cross symbol further accessorized with a few hanging chains. That’s just one of the piercings along his cartilage, but it looks like he removed any other jewelry that accessorizes his left ear.
What I can’t ignore is the silver lip ring. It’s so subtle against his peachy pink lips that are smooth and even have a hint of gloss, but it makes me giddy, as though I’m meeting some sort of rebel in the flesh.
His grin is both cocky and playful, and compared to Dark Coffee Spinach and Dirty Orange, his confidence doesn’t rile my buttons in the slightest. His presence immediately calms my need to defend myself.
As though he has me covered.
“Sorry we’re late, Sweetie,” he gives me the perfect puppy eye look as he reaches over to trail his thumb along my bottom lip.
I can barely breathe while my attention is glued to this man for multiple reasons.
“The traffic tonight is extra heinous thanks to the protest happening on 19th. Amusing, to say the least. I thought it was Omega fans desperate to meet Morelli, but I guess not.”
Who’s Morelli?
“Who the fuck are—” Dark Coffee Spinach tries to say, but the attendant is not only back, she’s muffling a squeal. She quickly places my bill on the table so she could give this man her full attention.
“Mr. Baek?! I-I-I didn’t know you’d be at one of these events!” She’s trying her best to keep her voice down as she proceeds to try her best to rip a blank sheet. “C-C-Can I please have your autograph?! My peers would never believe I met you!”
“Certainly,” he said with a taunting smirk. There’s something about it that’s far different, though. Compared to how he was looking my way mere seconds ago with a ray of warmth and sunshine, he looks at this woman with a projected coldness. A fake mask that projects feigned emotions that please the viewers who fall prey to the illusion.
“Who the fuck is this?” Dark Coffee Spinach repeats his demand.
Dirty Orange elbows his shoulder, looking clearly threatened by Mr. Baek’s arrival.
“Shut the fuck up, Alvin! It’s Kenji Baek! Fucking millionaire.”
“Well, I’m more than just a millionaire,” he chips in with a low chuckle while his eyes slowly move to acknowledge the two men who grow stiff by the tense shift in the air. I’m not hallucinating with that because I feel it, too.
It’s odd to acknowledge or try to describe how it feels—this sense of predator was ready to take his claim and would eliminate anyone who dared try to interfere. Maybe this is what it feels like to have an Alpha’s aura overpower you into silent submission, but this is the first time I’ve seen it working against other Alphas.
Heck, this is the first time of me reacting to the heavy blanket of power.
I’m not sure I like or hate it.
“Though, I can’t hold it against you lot. Why do I recognize you two specifically…” He leans his head off to one side, allowing the low beaming light to further reflect on his handsome face, which only grows in attractiveness when hints of shadow contour it perfectly. “Aren’t you two part of the Rosedale pack?”
The duo perks up with excitement, as though being acknowledged by a potential celebrity Alpha is an accomplishment.
“Didn’t your entire pack file for bankruptcy earlier today?”
The realization that flusters across their faces confirms the truth in his words. The attendant is gasping as she looks at the men with a baffled expression that swiftly turns into seriousness.
“The Elite organizers of this exclusive event do not allow Alpha packs who are filing bankruptcy or currently in the process to attend such prestigious networking collaborations,” she hisses. “You all signed documents at the front door affirming these rules. Lying is prohibited and has immense consequences, including being blacklisted from all future events.”
Watching the shock that forms on their faces and how they’re grasping the severity of the revelation has me taking advantage of the situation.
“Guess I’ll pay my tab at the bar,” I suggest and slip out of the booth in front of Mr. Baek.
“Ah! My apologies, Miss Sol. If you don’t min—” The attendant begins but pauses when a black card is placed upon the written bill.
“Anything my Sweet Hummingbird wants is what she gets,” Mr. Baek announces while I feel him pressed behind me. His arm proceeds to hook around my front side, firmly holding me in his captivity while his hot breath tickles my neck and has goosebumps crawling along my flesh. “That means for the rest of the night. I’m sure you can ensure that’s taken care of while you get rid of this group of wasteful space, yes?”
“Y-Y-YES, Mr. Baek! I’ll do so right away.” The attendant bows multiple times as she swiftly picks up the bill tray that holds the obvious metallic black AMEX card.
Despite the Alphas’ obvious problems, they acknowledge the signifying credit card that everyone assumes only millionaires and billionaires are allowed to possess.
“B-Black AMEX,” Alvin grunts.
“Fuck…we couldn’t even get approved for a regular one.”
“Shut up, Chris,” Alvin hisses and glares my way. “You got lucky, Omega.”
“I’m glad you agree.” I sigh like a burden has been lifted off my shoulders. “I could never deal with the embarrassment of walking away from your table of bankrupt Alphas. My pride would never let me live with that misery nagging my brain.”
They grit their teeth, ready to snap some sort of combat, but low chuckle laughter forces me to look up and acknowledge the grinning Alpha who’s peering down at me.
“You’re a funny one, little Omega,” he praises while using that same title as Mr. Sexy Beast of a Fucker. It forces me to acknowledge they’re almost the same height. Mr. Baek has to be slightly shorter at 6’3”, but it still proves there’s a big difference between 5’2” and 6’3”. He’s going to notice my true 5’2” height when I’m out of these heels that bring me up to 5’5”.
How is he going to realize? We’re not going home together, Rae. Think logically, not with your wet pussy.
The acknowledgment makes me feel a tad bitter because this Alpha is proving to be another unique one I’d love to learn more about. It’s clear he’s uniquely different and not everyone’s cup of tea. He most definitely dresses far differently in his vibrant light blue suit and the silver accessories that complement his luxurious appearance, but I’m positive this man has to have an Omega waiting for him.
He has to be an organizer for this event because Alphas like this don’t stay single for so long.
Omegas throw themselves at most Alphas who move. Now, throw in an attractive Korean Alpha with piercings, and oh, is that a tattoo along his neck?!
I have to pull my eyes away for my sanity, especially when this man’s scent begins to cloak me like a warm, sweet delight of toffee treats. There’s caramel, vanilla, and hints of butterscotch. It’s such a sweet combination that reminds me of a tray of cupcakes that have finished setting and are waiting to be devoured.
It makes me want to drool at the thought, and goodness, I realize how hungry I am, seeing as all I’ve done tonight is drink a lot and not eat anything out of nervousness.
“I-I’m not little.” I address that first with a bit of spunk because my shortness won’t be used against me when I’m wearing these flashy heels. “And I’m grateful for your generosity, but I’ll be taking my leave.”
“Are you?” He seems intrigued and watches as I spin around to face him. Taking a step back to further distance ourselves, I watch how his eyes dance down my features, taking every inch while his tongue trails along his bottom lip.
Revealing a very obvious tongue piercing.
I struggle not to gasp in awe while my pussy is all but fluttering in praise as if this is the Alpha who’s going to toot our needing horn all night long.
I’m hallucinating. This is just too much.
“I-I am,” I affirm and stand a little taller. “I have other important things to attend to. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Baek.”
I try to turn away, but this man is not only fast but smooth in his movement as his hand cups my cheek in a single blink and stills me enough so this man can lean down until our lips barely touch.
“Kenji.” He whispers the name like it’s forbidden fruit. “Have a good night, Miss Sol.”
He leans back just an inch, ensuring our shared gaze is as taunting with longing as the intense need to close the distance between us.
My heart is beating like a wild drum at 2x speed, and I don’t even want to acknowledge the slick pooling between my legs. I’m not sure this suppressant thong can last much longer because this Alpha is driving my body mad.
Heck, I’d go into Heat with all this stimulation.
I have to ensure I knock on wood when I find a wooden fixture to prevent that from coming to fruition, but there’s a nagging need not to let him be the one to finish the conversation.
To leave some sort of mark of my own.
“Astraea,” I whisper, realizing he’s the first Alpha I’ve ever been comfortable—or even confident—enough to reveal a part of my identity to. “If the stars align, we’ll meet again, Kenji.”
I don’t wait for him to reply, slipping from his presence with a spin that makes my long purple-silver locks flicker behind me in a graceful movement.
Walking away at an even pace, I can feel the intense trail of his gaze on me. In actuality, I’m positive many just witnessed our interaction because the silence surrounding us proves whatever conversations were happening in this lavish event were silenced by one distraction.
Us.