3. Avery
Avery
S he tugged on my arm.
I planted my feet.
“I can move you, you know.”
“Lady, I’m a cop,” I explained to Miss Holt, smirking at her.
Her eyes narrowed to slits.
“Okay, wait, wait, wait,” I directed, taking hold of her hand, still in the crook of my elbow.
I knew that look on a beta, and I didn’t want to tempt fate.
They liked balance and peace, yes, but they were stubborn as hell too.
Challenging her was a bad idea. “Before this escalates and we get into some weird pissing contest, I know you mean well by wanting me to go over there and meet the man who I now know is your boss, but c’mon, lookit me.
I’m a mess, right? I’m not the kind of omega that would best… serve…”
“Avery?”
What was I thinking? I was smarter than this.
“Avery?”
“Sorry, sorry,” I said quickly, gesturing toward her boss. “You know what? I’m being an idiot. Let’s go.”
She was quiet, unmoving, studying my face.
“What? C’mon, let’s do this.”
“Most omegas,” she began, “meet alphas with a fair amount of excitement, yes? But also trepidation, and even fear, because they know if they’re chosen their lives will never be their own again.”
“Sure.”
“But you—how many alphas have you met?”
I had to think. “Let’s see, from eighteen to now…fifty-eight? No, fifty-nine. There was an alpha just this past summer who lost his beta; it was really sad, and he got to meet us all, and he wanted Bridge, but her father put the kibosh on that.”
She continued to stare at me.
“What?”
“Let me guess, not rich enough?”
I waggled my eyebrows at her.
“All right, so you’ve met fifty-nine alphas, and not one has ever chosen you?”
I squinted at her. “Did I mention I’m a cop?”
“You did, yes.”
“Well, I ain’t giving that up, no matter what anyone says, and my father has made that a stipulation of my bonding.”
“He has not.”
I scoffed.
“You’re not serious.” She was in awe, eyes wide, staring at me.
“You seem surprised.”
“He’s written that into your contract?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How?”
“What do you mean how ?”
“I mean—I just—I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Yeah, no, probably not. But it makes me being counted on as an omega who would take care of a home and raise children and all that kind of a longshot.”
“It’s more than that,” she said, her voice faltering. “I can’t imagine an alpha who would be willing to take you on.”
“Exactly,” I told her smugly.
“Why did your father agree to that?”
I grinned at her. “First, he loves me and wants what I want to matter, and second, he answers to my mother.”
“Explain.”
“My mother, his true mate, his beta, if she insisted—which she would, ’cause she’s my mom—he would have caved, even if he’d said no to me at first.”
“Why?”
“Whaddya mean why ? He loves her; he’d do anything to make her happy.”
“No, I mean why would your mother agree with you over your father?”
“Oh, she teaches school.”
Her eyes got even bigger and wider. Every now and then I was reminded how strange and wonderful my family was. “Your mother works outside the home?”
“She does, yeah.”
“Who are you people?”
“I know, it’s nuts, right? We’re a weird-ass lupine family.”
“So you will remain a law enforcement officer?”
“I will indeed.”
“But how would that work?”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean the pull of the alpha, what he wants, will override your free will.”
I shook my head. “Not with me it won’t.”
“You obviously haven’t met any powerful alphas.”
“Maybe”—I shrugged—“but I have three in my immediate family.”
“You do?”
I nodded.
“Well, I still have to assume that when you meet the one who will claim you, their power will be greater than your own.”
I squinted at her. “And yet, all I’ve ever heard about is omegas twisting their alphas up so tight that they become slaves to them.”
“Again, only if you have a weak alpha.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I placated her.
“It’s not up for debate. It’s—Avery, surely you understand you’re a wolf first, human second. Reason will fly right out the window when faced with the desire of your alpha.”
I remained quiet.
“You’re an animal before any––”
“Am I, though? Are any of us?”
“Yes,” she assured me firmly. “You know that.”
“Maybe millions of years ago, when we were running around killing mammoths or whatever. When the first one of us decided to fire up the grill instead of having steak tartare for dinner again, I think the human part took over.”
“But you can’t fight your nature.”
“You don’t think so?” I countered.
“No,” she insisted, easing her arm free so she could stand in front of me and argue. “You’re an omega and are made to make a home for an alpha.”
I grimaced, as it was hard to imagine anything worse.
“You doubt this?”
“Do I look like homemaker material?”
“I––”
“Are you homemaker material?”
“I’m a beta,” she informed me defensively. “I’m made to be a mate, yes, but if I ever find my mate, if that wolf is an alpha, we’ll need a housekeeper, and if she’s a beta like me, or a gamma, then we’ll have to divvy up the chores.”
“Here’s the thing. I may be an omega, but the service I’ve chosen to give is to the city of Chicago. I take care of as many people as I can.”
“And you feel no pull to care for and nurture a mate?”
“No, ma’am. And I’ve never met anyone, besides my partner, who actually needs me.”
“Your who?”
“My partner,” I told her, grinning. “I’m a police officer,” I continued slowly, enunciating the words, goading her. “We solve crimes together.”
Quick scowl. “All this charm and banter, it’s smoke and mirrors. I can see right through you.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, omega, that’s right,” she assured me firmly, giving me a pointed stare. “You need to be claimed, and you need a home. Cop or not, you need to be cherished and cared for, and you desperately need an alpha to give you hard limits.”
“I might need something hard,” I teased, smirking at her.
She groaned disgustedly. “Walk with me.”
“Certainly.”
But when we turned to go to the earl, he was gone.
“Awww, he left.” I feigned sadness. “That’s too bad.”
“Stay here,” she ordered, pointing at the floor. “Right here. Don’t move. I’ll go find him and be right back.”
“Of course, yeah, totally,” I agreed with a nod, giving her my super-serious for sure face.
She rolled her eyes and left.
“I have never been treated so poorly in my life,” Bridget raged, coming up beside me. “You were right not to give that man the time of day.”
I smiled at her as Linden reached us, passing me an Old Fashioned, and Bridget the same.
“Could he have been more dismissive?” he asked her. “Or acted any more bored?”
“Or conceited or rude?” she added imperiously, chugging the drink down. “My God, what an ass.”
“Absolutely,” he seconded, draining his as well. “Let’s do shots.”
“May I speak with you?”
Turning, I found Sandor, looking annoyed as usual. There was a permanent furrow in his brows whenever he looked at me.
“You could,” I assured him, “but I gotta do shots with my friends.”
“I––”
“He does,” Linden told him, taking hold of my bicep and pulling me after him.
“First, I––”
“Please, Sandor,” Bridget said, using her sweetest, sexiest voice, looking down and then lifting her baby-blue eyes to him, twirling a long platinum curl around her finger. “I’ve been treated abominably, and I need solace that only another omega can offer.”
He sighed deeply, unaffected because he knew all my friends and they irritated him to no end. “Fine,” he agreed, then scowled at me. “But, young man, when your father calls you, you will respond immediately and with––”
“Absolutely,” I quipped before allowing Linden to tug me after him. I could hear Sandor huffing in irritation behind me.
I drained my Old Fashioned at the bar, the one usually manned by my brother—who made a damn good Moscow Mule—but was now being run by a professional bartender for the party. We ordered shots of tequila, which were lined up in front of us.
“This is a goddamn Roland Mouret dress that I got just for this party,” Bridget informed us. “And do you think this hair just happens?”
“It’s lovely,” I assured her, poking at her long blond tresses. “The diamond barrettes are a nice touch.”
“Right?”
“What about me?” Linden groused loudly. “This bespoke suit is Italian.”
“You look pretty too,” I conceded, “and your makeup is better than Bridget’s.”
“Hey,” she growled at me.
“C’mon, look at the liner,” I ordered, pointing.
His jade-green eyes were accentuated by long, thick lashes, and the black liner made them pop.
“Fine,” she conceded. “Your makeup game is on point, Lin.”
“Thank you.”
“And that suit makes your waist look tiny.”
“It’s not the suit; it’s the corset underneath,” he informed us. “And, if I’m being honest, it’s getting a bit hard to breathe.”
I noticed then that his eyes were glassy, and he appeared paler than usual. With his alabaster skin, not many people would have noticed, but I’d been looking at him since I was five, so I could tell.
“For fuck’s sake,” I groused at him, putting an arm around his waist and drawing his arm across my shoulders. “We’re going out to the balcony, and you gotta come with us, Bridge, because I’m not leaving you here alone.”
Between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four, unbonded female omegas were attended by chaperones.
At twenty-five, those chaperones became bodyguards.
Male omegas supposedly didn’t need chaperones or bodyguards, for the simple reason that they could not be impregnated.
Speaking from experience, I would have argued that the amount of trouble Linden and I got into would have been reduced considerably had there been someone there keeping an eye on us.
“Mills,” I prodded her, using her last name, which she hated. “Come with––”
“I’ll keep her company.” A man was there, having stepped in close from the crowd, and as his voice held a slight pulse of power that I felt prickle over my skin, I knew he was an alpha.
“Bridge, just––”
“I’m here, Avery,” her bodyguard, Lucas Grant, called over to me from where he was, farther down the bar.