Chapter 3
Soirée
Locke
We are running late, and it’s Oscar’s fault as usual.
He spent way too much time ironing our shirts.
He made sure we wore matching suits, well, his idea of matching.
Kol’s assigned color is emerald. I’m gold.
And Oscar gave himself a deep burgundy red.
So, he’s got us all done up in our colors.
Kol is in a green suit, and Oscar is in a solid red suit.
I’m in black with gold paisley detailing.
It’s all just so much.
Also, Kol needed to masturbate before we left. So we all had to wait for that to finish.
We didn’t particularly mind. Oscar views it clinically, like a solution to a medical condition, whereas I was admittedly turned on, but we didn’t have time for both of us to masturbate.
We finally arrive at the Institute, and there’s a valet at the entrance of their building. The front is a high-rise office building right in the middle of downtown Cash City, but it hides a massive garden and pond beyond its doors.
Oscar carefully vets the valets until he finds the one he trusts the most with his Lincoln Navigator. I’m nearly jumping out of my skin to get a move on.
I get out of the car first and adjust my fitted black suit, running the palms of my hands over the sides of my long blonde hair.
I have it slicked back tonight and I don’t want the strands to fall down.
Kol is out of the car next. He’s taller than me and has short, brown hair.
He’s got this ‘handsome devil’ look. Strong jaw, clear eyes, and just enough scrub on his face to make the ladies pant after him.
He’s broad shouldered and fit. He comes up to me and fixes a stray hair, and then pats me on the cheek.
I playfully slap him away. He laughs as he dodges my attempt.
Oscar tells the valet how exactly he wants his car handled, then gives him the keys along with some cash.
Oscar is our pack lead. He’s from Colombia and has a Spanish accent.
His aura is strong, and I enjoy being around him when he lets it out.
To me, Oscar looks like a stone-cold killer.
He’s handsome with a full head of thick, dark hair and tan skin.
He has some gray on the sides, just enough to give him that “papi” look.
His mustache is thick and gorgeous, and he keeps it well trimmed.
When you can get him to smile, his mustache curls up and it’s reward enough seeing that.
He adjusts his gold cufflinks and joins us at the curb.
Three alphas. Three desperate men. Oscar gives us an encouraging smile, and we finally enter.
We make our way to the back of the building and out the grand doors to the gardens.
Within them is a grove where there is a small building with columns and massive windows, which is where the event is taking place.
We walk through the grove, where they’ve set up games like corn hole and badminton, so the alphas and omegas can get to know each other.
We walk into the open-air building, and thank god there’s an open bar and catering. Thank god because I’m starving.
I was too nervous to eat lunch, and then I was too nervous to do anything about it later.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter when I see who is all here. “It’s a total alpha-fest.”
I get us drinks from the bar, and Kol gets me a plate of some food. Mostly sweets, because he knows me so well. We take up a spot in the center. Kol picked the spot out last time, saying it would get us the most attention.
And we stand there. Like jackasses.
The party moves around us.
It’s not a party full of people who know each other or have anything in common at all. The only thing we have in common is that we want a pack. We want an omega. Which oddly does not give anyone enough to talk about. So it’s quiet except for a string quartet playing somewhere.
We stand and we wait and we drink our drinks. I get us a second round—we stand and we wait and we drink our drinks.
“This is our third soirée,” Kol eventually points out. “There was the Sweetheart Soirée. The Speed-Dating Soirée. And now whatever this is. Quarterly All-pack? What does that mean? We’ve been accepted into the Institute for months now and haven’t even met with an omega for placement.”
“Well, we did meet that young Chinese girl…” I try to point out, but Kol cuts me off.
“She was 19! I figured an omega would be young, but come on. Can she at least be in her twenties? If we wanted an omega just barely of age, we should have just stayed in Salt Port.”
Oscar agrees with him. Oscar is 34 years old. I can see him not wanting a young omega. Kol is 29. I personally don’t mind a young omega, but I’m also the youngest at 24.
Our only preference for the Institute has been that they don’t require a long courting period. We haven’t been matched to a single omega. This entire process feels like a scam.
We’ve been desperately seeking an omega for months.
We moved to Cash City recently because our chances of meeting an omega would be higher.
Its demographics and stats for O/B/A population and omega safety are the best in the country.
They have the most Heat Clinics per capita.
The omega citizens here are the most educated and highest earning.
It was founded by an omega for fucksake!
Orrin Cash was an omega, and he designed all the public services around omegas.
Oscar puts his hand on my shoulder, reminding me to relax.
Maybe I should have masturbated too. Just to calm down a little.
I scan the room for the millionth time.
I can be impatient.
But I’m sure we will find someone.
Or maybe it’ll never happen, and we will never be with an omega, and I’ll lose my brothers and never be happy and die.
I close my eyes and breathe deeply.
We are near the bar and catering tables inside the gallery, where there are descenters in the air. You can walk out to the outdoor gardens if you want to open yourself up to scenting.
None of the omegas do that. They all stay here. I think they are all worried a wayward alpha will get too close and try to scent them. I don’t blame them. We are all gigantic, desperate fuckers. Oscar reaches down and gives my hand a quick squeeze. He knows how desperate we are.
The first soirée, we tried to hide our desperation. Kol thought it would scare any omega away. But by now, none of us care. We are desperate. We are running out of time to be chill about it.
Kol has pointed out all the omegas that are here.
There’s the male omega we saw last time.
Oscar is straight. I’m open. And Kol is just too in love with women to deprive him.
So we introduced ourselves, but we didn’t get our hopes up.
This time he looks at us and I give him a nod and a tip of my glass. But that’s it.
He’s surrounded by smiling alphas, so it’s not like he’s in want of our attention, too.
I squeeze Oscar’s biceps and tell him I need some air. Kol takes my place at his right side, and I take off to the garden.
It’s pretty much empty out here. There’s a corn hole setup for anyone who likes to make an omega play corn hole in a cocktail dress.
There are bushes carved into weird shapes. Pathways and trees with raised flower beds. There’s a pond somewhere. I don’t know, I just need to breathe. The event ends in an hour, and I am so afraid it’s another bust.
I find a stone on the ground, pick it up and toss it once in the air, then catch it in my palm, holding the smooth rock tight in my grip. I go searching for the pond I found last time. I bet I can get this rock to skip across it.
I’m not paying attention, so I nearly walk right up to a woman looking out over the water. I stop and back up before she notices me.
She’s lost in thought. The moonlight bathes her in silver. She sighs deeply. Like she has so many worries. A warm summer breeze moves over the water. Oh my god.
Oh my god.
I gasp, and my hand goes to my heart.
Her scent.
Like lilac blossoms warmed in the summer sun. It rips through me while simultaneously healing every last part of me. My mouth opens and her scent is everywhere. I’m drowning in it. A scent match.