Chapter 53
WREN
“Hey, you did great back there.” I nudge Atlas with my elbow.
I’m still floating a little after the last four groups of guests we’ve approached have enthusiastically offered to make donations.
I’ve been trying to play it somewhat cool, but doing a quick tally in my head, we’ve managed to secure somewhere in the vicinity of fifty grand in corporate sponsorship, all within a handful of conversations.
“Turns out cute dogs are a hit across all income brackets.” I smile up at his requisite Atlas frown. “And not just the puppies… I’m pretty sure that lady who offered twenty thousand and a year’s supply of chew toys has a giant ol’ crush on you.”
“She’s gotta be in her eighties, at least,” he mumbles while scrubbing a big hand down his face.
“Octogenarian or not, those eyes were hella spritely as soon as you appeared.”
I swear the tips of Atlas’s ears turn pink, as his expression sets into more of a scowl. A very adorable, not at all intimidating scowl. A scowl I want to smooch right off his stupidly handsome face.
Atlas Palamo strolling around in a fitted designer suit should be illegal.
He’s a hazard. Literally.
One look at him, and I’m whatever the opposite of flameproof is. I’m Omega-shaped-accelerant, a tinderbox of poor decisions and wayward, back-to-front methods of pack formation. I’m simmering embers, ready to spontaneously burst into flames at any moment.
What am I doing exactly? I’m following on from our text conversation, where I definitely wanted to test the waters to see if he might actually talk to me.
Yay for me, he didn’t block my number, and I think we might have had a teeny tiny little moment of flirtation—although I could 100 percent be wrong and reading into it, and all he was doing was humoring his best friend’s little sister. Bleugh.
And now? Now, I’m dragging him around this gala in the hopes that we can come to some sort of truce, an agreement of sorts, where we maybe might talk about that kiss between us and whatever the hell happened in that shower when he groaned my name and dissolved me to a puddle in the process.
I’m climbing the walls with nerves and eagerness to know what he’s thinking.
Does he regret everything?
Does he want me to leave him alone?
Does he need me to be the one to make the first move?
Throwing myself at him? That, I could certainly do without needing a second invitation. The last option sounds extremely appealing. The former choices, not so much.
However, one second, I’m captivated by Atlas—plotting ways to corner him into a discussion about what the fuck happened that night—the next I hear a laugh that makes my blood run cold.
A laugh I’d recognize anywhere for its arrogance.
A laugh I once thought was a way of entertaining a crowd and endearing himself to others, only to discover it was all bullshit.
“Fuck.” I stumble and immediately try to glance around for an escape.
“Are you okay?” Atlas’s broad chest fills my vision, and I’ve never been more grateful for him being a literal mountain.
“My… my ex,” I whisper, keeping my eyes lowered and undeniably using him as my own personal Alpha shield. “I’m sorry—”
Atlas picks up on the situation with lightning reflexes. “Nothing to apologize for. You go that way. I’ll make sure he doesn’t see you over here.”
“Are you sure?” My head swims. This has turned from being a moment of pure joy and excitement about something that means so much to Atlas, to me being a little cowardly creature needing his help while I scurry away like a field mouse.
“Yep. Just go,” he grunts.
I turn, ready to race far, far away from the sight of my ex-boyfriend and whoever that is hanging off his arm. Except, in my haste to press through the crowd of finely dressed gala attendees, I bump into someone who might just be even worse than having to stomach Beta Brett.
“Oh, you. Hello again.” The man before me gives a wink.
I swallow, prevent my nose from wrinkling, and fake a tight-lipped smile. The whole time, my gaze still darts around to see if I can catch sight of either Connor or Theo, even my brother would be a welcome sight right now. “Um. Hi.”
Gareth snaps his fingers and points at me, nodding to himself. “I knew I recognized your face. You were at the dog shelter with Palamo. The Wolves piece.”
“Not exactly. I wasn’t there with him.” My words rush out. “I just volunteer there… as part of my college program, you know.”
“Ahh. I see.” He says it with that distinct air of no matter what you say, I’m jumping to conclusions anyway. “And yet you’re here tonight? Coincidentally, of course, I presume?”
“I’m here as a guest of the Wolves. Finch Murphy is my brother.” I smooth my hair just to give myself something to do with my hands. “However, I don’t readily go around advertising that fact. I would appreciate discretion where my family is concerned.”
The guy purses his lips, giving a little look around as if expecting to see someone with me. “So, other than an act of sibling fealty, are you here on the arm of anyone? Maybe several someones if you’re part of a pack?”
“Ahh… no…” I try to step to one side, but he blocks my path.
“Ain’t that just perfect timing then. I could use a dance partner…
and don’t expect me to cite my sources, but I did a little homework on you after that dog thing, Wren Murphy.
I know you and Brett used to be quite the pair, but I’ll bet he won’t mind terribly lending you to me for a spin around the room. ”
I’m not anything of his to lend. I want to shriek the words in this pompous asshole’s face, but right now I’m torn between running into said ex-boyfriend and not wanting to refuse this guy. He most certainly seems like the type who would very much enjoy causing a scene.
My stomach ties itself in knots knowing that he actively went out of his way to look me up after that day at the dog shelter.
There are plenty of other people dancing to the string quartet positioned on one side of the room. It’s not like this is anything unusual for an event like this. If anything, I’ve already had a couple of other offers while Atlas and I were busy drumming up donations just a moment ago.
So, I reluctantly take Gareth’s gross, sweaty hand and do my best to smile through the wince when he places his other hand high on my waist.
“You’re an Omega, if my sources are correct?” he asks as we start to shuffle in small circles to the music.
“Yes. I am.”
That seems to amuse him. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Why?” God, I hate everything about this. Just as I ask that question, just as my chest is tight at the discomfort of this moment, I catch sight of Finch. But he’s too far away and is walking through the doors in the direction of the entrance foyer with other players.
“I’ve heard lots of stories about your kind,” Gareth drawls over the words, and there are writhing, twisting coils of snakes in my gut.
I don’t want to entertain this prick, yet I’m thinking of Atlas.
I’m thinking of how I especially do not want to draw any undue attention to Theo or Connor.
So, I bite down on the inside of my cheek.
“Well, we’re not mythical creatures. Omegas exist. As you can see.”
Again, something in what I’m saying appears to be a source of amusement. “Haven’t really ever met one of you up close, though. It’s a funny thing how that works. Omegas getting to attend here at WFU with those strange little scholarships they dole out for the likes of you.”
“Oh… well…” Heat rises up my chest. I’m growing more flustered by the second.
What would Nikita say in a moment like this?
How would she handle someone so clearly showing thinly veiled judgment of an Omega designation?
She’d give him a piece of her mind for so blatantly trying to find an angle for a story to run in the news tomorrow.
What the hell do I do here without causing a massive scene, being a complete embarrassment, or risking my place at WFU?
His laugh that comes next is blunt, humorless.
“Is it true… I’ve always wondered…” Leaning closer, the asshole smothers me with a mouthful of his cologne that almost makes me choke, and he has the audacity to make a suggestive clicking noise with his tongue.
“How true is it that you Omegas can’t… y’know? ”
I rear back. The need to play nicely is forgotten. “What’s that supposed to mean?” As quickly and gracefully as I can, I shrug his hand from my shoulder and pull away.
“Aww, don’t play coy, girlie. I won’t spill your secrets.
It’s the journalist in me, I’m just curious.
Are the rumors true? Isn’t it something like you can’t ‘control’ yourself when it happens?
” He makes stupid little air bunny quotation marks while waggling his eyebrows at me.
“Did Brett ever get the pleasure of seeing that go down in real life? He never would confirm or deny it, the dog.” With a smarmy look on his face, he glances up and down my figure.
Oh my god. This guy is a piece of work.
This time, I completely detach myself from his presence, putting a good three feet between us, and continue to back up.
“Hey, don’t worry, I’ll stop pushing.” Gareth raises both hands. “It’s just a joke between friends. You know how it goes.”
“No. I don’t know, actually. I’m going to go and freshen up in the bathroom.” I swallow back the disgusting taste building in the back of my mouth. “Thank you for the dance.”
I barely get the words out. A lump forms in my throat.
This… this is what people think of Omegas.
This is everything about why I can’t be here. I can’t do this. I can’t risk what it would do to Connor, or Theo, or Atlas, or my brother if someone like this bastard were to find out.
And whether it’s my imagination or just wishful thinking, as I bolt from the room, I feel three sets of eyes on me. All drilling holes into the back of my head.