Chapter 1 #3
"Well, you should. Do you have any idea how much money his parents spent on this wedding? How many people are sitting out there waiting for you?"
"Let them wait."
"You're making a huge mistake," Melissa says, and now she's moving toward me, pushing past Mom.
"Callum is a good man…"
I swing my other leg over the railing, and that's when it hits me.
The scent.
I’ve only been an omega for three weeks, and with no suppressants, I'm still learning what my nose is telling me, but right now? Right now it's screaming.
Melissa smells like Callum's cologne. Not just a whiff from a hug or sitting too close. She's drenched in it. Cedar and bergamot and that expensive stuff his mother buys him in bottles.
And underneath it?
Oh.
Oh.
How did I miss this? Every time she disappeared during wedding prep, she came back smelling like him. Every time I couldn't find Callum, she'd show up twenty minutes later with that same scent clinging to her skin. Every time she defended him, championed him, told me I was overreacting—
I'm an idiot.
No. I was a beta who couldn't smell worth a damn. Now I'm an omega, and suddenly the last three months make perfect sense.
"You're right," I say, and the laugh that comes out is half-hysterical, half-relieved. "He does deserve someone like you. Someone who thinks his behavior is patience instead of control."
Melissa's face goes pale. "Jessica—"
"Someone who's been screwing him behind my back."
She freezes. Mom gasps.
"Oh, don't look so shocked, Melissa. I can smell him on you.
I mean, seriously, did you two even shower?
Or did you just roll out of bed and come straight here to help me into my wedding dress?
" I grab the trellis and start climbing down, because if I don't move right now, I'm going to say something I can't take back.
"Congratulations, by the way. You can have him. Consider this my wedding gift to you both."
The dress catches on branches. The bodice digs into my ribs. My new omega nose is still cataloging scents—his cologne, her perfume, the mixing of them that can only mean one thing—and God, how was I so blind?
Oh right. Because I wasn't an omega three weeks ago.
Because scent meant nothing when I was a beta.
Because I trusted them both.
"Jessica, wait—" Melissa leans over the railing, but I'm already halfway down.
"Have a great life, Melissa. I hope you two are very happy together. Really. I mean it."
I don't mean it. But I also don't care anymore.
My foot finds purchase on a thick branch. Then another. The ground is getting closer, and freedom is getting sweeter.
I drop the last few feet to the ground, landing in the soft earth of the flower bed. My veil catches on a branch above me, and I yank it free, letting it fall.
I hear her talking, but I'm already running.
Through the side garden. Past the fountain with its cherubs and flowing water. Around the corner of the estate where the parking lot stretches out ahead of me.
Cars everywhere. Guests still arriving, late and flustered. The photographer by the garden entrance, checking his equipment. The venue coordinator talking urgently into her headset.
No one notices the bride in the ruined dress sprinting across the grass like her life depends on it.
Maybe it does.
I spot Melissa's car near the back. Her little blue sedan parked crooked because she's always in a rush. She leaves her keys in the cupholder. Has since college.
The door is unlocked.
Thank God.
I wrench it open, and there they are. Keys sitting in the cupholder like a gift.
"Sorry, Melissa,” I mutter, even though I'm not sorry at all. Not anymore. "Consider this payment for sleeping with my groom."
The engine roars to life. I throw the car into reverse and peel out of the parking lot.
In the rearview mirror, I see Melissa running out of the estate, waving her arms. Shouting, but I can't hear over the engine and my own racing heartbeat.
I don't look back.
I drive.
The dress is bunched up around my thighs, tulle spilling everywhere. Bobby pins rain down on the dashboard. My hair whips around my face, half up and half down.
My makeup is running because yes, Callum, I'm crying.
But this time, they're not sad tears.
They're relief.
For the first time in two years, I can breathe.
The road stretches ahead, winding through farmland and forest. The sky is that perfect shade of early autumn blue, and the trees are just starting to turn. Reds and oranges and golds flashing past like promises.
My hands shake on the wheel. My heart pounds. But underneath the panic and fear and shock of what I just did.
Freedom.
Mom: I couldn’t cancel the honeymoon.
I chuckle at the idea of it, the honeymoon where I was supposed to go and produce a little Callum.
Me: Go Mom. Have fun. I’ll get your passport to you by courier.
Mom: No need. Aunt Linda can do that.
Even better.
I smile at the idea of Mom maybe going on my honeymoon and finding her happy ever after.
Largo Waters – 147 miles
My foot eases off the gas.
Largo Waters. Home. Mom still lives there, in the same house where I grew up.
The same house with the porch swing Dad built and the garden Mom tends every spring.
After Dad died, everyone thought she'd sell and move closer to Aunt Linda, but she refused. Six years ago, I kissed Carlos, one of Callum’s best friends, and ran before the sun came up.
Largo Waters, where the Negrorio pack still lives.
Where they run half the town. Where I swore I'd never go back because facing them would mean admitting I chose wrong.
My hands turn the wheel.
Toward the four alphas I've spent six years trying to forget.
I press harder on the gas.
The wedding dress crinkles and tears around me. The lace is ruined where it caught on the trellis. The beading scratches my skin.
Good.
Let it become exactly what it was. A beautiful prison I almost locked myself into.
I'm done being who everyone else wants me to be.
Even if I have no idea who I am anymore.
The sign for Largo Waters gets closer.
My new omega instincts hum under my skin, unfamiliar and overwhelming. I need my suppressants. Need to get my head straight. I need to get home, and pray that going back doesn't destroy me all over again.