Chapter 10 Melody
Melody
“Seriously, what is it about men with axes?” I mutter, trudging through the snow with Oxford at my side. “It’s completely unfair. Nobody should look that good while sweating.”
The image of Gabe and Everett chopping wood is burned into my retinas—muscles flexing beneath those flannel shirts, the focused intensity in their eyes, the way sweat glistened on their foreheads. It was like watching some kind of lumberjack porn.
“And the smell,” I continue, shaking my head. “It must be all the sweat mixing with the pine or something.”
Oxford gives me the side-eye.
“What?” I ask him. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just making observations.”
He blinks slowly, unimpressed.
“Fine, they smell incredible. Is that what you wanted to hear?” I kick at a clump of snow. “Everett smells like a candy cane, and Gabe smells like… URRGG! Whatever. Maybe it’s the fresh air out here? In the city, everything’s polluted and muted.”
It’s a logical explanation.
“And they’re a couple,” I remind myself firmly. “I mean Finn and Gabe. Finn is nice and funny and—”
I stop walking. “Wait. Do you think Finn noticed that I was gawking? I wasn’t trying to… I mean, I wasn’t hitting on Gabe or anything.”
Oxford just stares at me.
“You’re right. I’m overthinking this. It’s perfectly normal to notice attractive people. It doesn’t mean anything.”
We continue walking; the silence broken only by the crunch of snow beneath my boots and the occasional snort from Oxford.
“Do you think they noticed me noticing?” I ask suddenly, mortification washing over me.
“Oh god, what if they think I’m some kind of desperate omega?
First, I crash their bonfire completely drunk, then have a total breakdown…
oh, and don’t forget the twerking. And singing.
Not to mention my inviting them to stay with me and threatening them with my dry shampoo.
OMG! They must think I’m a total psycho. ”
Oxford makes a sound that suspiciously resembles a sigh.
“Or maybe I’m just being paranoid,” I continue, working through my thoughts aloud—“This is why I hate being an omega sometimes.”
As we approach the barn, I notice a few people gathered near the entrance. Charlie stands at the edge of the group, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Even from this distance, I can tell she’s seething.
The focus of her anger appears to be an older man in an expensive-looking overcoat and polished leather shoes with those ugly rubber sole protectors around them. An older couple nods along as he speaks, hanging on his every word.
She spots us and waves us over.
“Come here,” she calls. “You need to hear this bullshit.”
“—simply unnatural,” he’s saying as we approach. “Marjorie Beaumont may have made millions with that Alpha-Away spray of hers, but at what cost to society? To traditional values?”
Charlie grabs my arm and pulls me closer. “This is Mayor Reynolds,” she whispers, her voice tight. “Town’s biggest asshole.”
The mayor continues, unaware of Charlie’s commentary. “An unmarried, unmated omega in her forties, running a corporation? It’s not what omegas are made for. It goes against their nature.”
I know Marjorie Beaumont—not personally, of course, but every omega knows of her. She revolutionized omega safety with Alpha-Away, giving us protection during heats or unwanted advances. She’s a hero to many of us.
“She has done a tremendous disservice to omegas everywhere. Omegas simply aren’t built for the corporate world,” the mayor continues. “Their natural place is in the home, nurturing their alphas and children. That’s where they find true fulfillment.”
Charlie’s eyes meet mine, one of her eyebrows raised. I can almost hear her voice from earlier: Fuck demure.
“What do you think, young lady?” The mayor suddenly turns my way. “You look like a sensible omega.”
Everyone turns to look at me.
Shit.
I take a steadying breath, suddenly aware of Charlie’s expectant gaze and Oxford’s presence beside me. The mayor’s eyes bore into mine, his expression smug with the certainty that I’ll agree with him.
“Actually, sir,” I begin, my voice slightly unsteady, “I think Marjorie Beaumont has done something extraordinary for omegas everywhere. She created a product that protects vulnerable omegas from unwanted advances and potentially dangerous situations. That’s hardly a disservice.”
The mayor’s eyebrows shoot up, clearly not expecting pushback.
“And beyond that,” I continue, feeling a strange surge of confidence, “she’s built a business that employs hundreds of people—alphas, betas, and omegas alike. She’s created opportunities where none existed before, and is helping omegas finally have financial independence.”
“That’s a very progressive view,” Mayor Reynolds says with a condescending smile. “But surely you understand that such independence comes at a cost to traditional family structures. An omega’s natural fulfillment comes from—”
“Forgive me, Mayor,” I interrupt, surprising even myself, “but I wasn’t aware you had experienced life as an omega to make such definitive statements about our natural fulfillment.”
Charlie snorts beside me.
Charlie catches my eye and gives me an approving nod.
“I’ve been studying designation dynamics for longer than you’ve been alive,” he says curtly.
I square my shoulders.
“Studying something isn’t the same as living it,” I reply, my heart hammering. “With all due respect, perhaps your views are a bit… outdated? The world is evolving. Omegas are discovering that we can be nurturing and ambitious. Supportive and independent. It’s not either/or.”
I feel Oxford shift beside me, moving slightly closer to the mayor. I’m too focused on maintaining eye contact with Reynolds to pay much attention.
The mayor’s face flushes red. “Young lady, that’s precisely the problem with your generation. No respect for traditional values or natural hierarchies. An omega like you should understand her place rather than parroting progressive nonsense.”
“My place?” I repeat, feeling heat rise in my cheeks. “I believe my ‘place’ is wherever I choose it to be, just as Ms. Beaumont chose hers.”
“Inexperience makes you na?ve,” he says dismissively, turning to the older couple beside him. “You see? This is what happens when omegas aren’t properly guided.”
Just as I open my mouth to respond, there’s a sudden movement beside me. Oxford, who has been watching this exchange with what I can only describe as increasing disdain, steps forward deliberately.
The mayor turns, noticing the llama for the first time. “What is this beast doing here—”
Before he can finish his sentence, Oxford makes a sound—half snort, half gurgle—and then projectile spits directly onto the mayor’s expensive coat.
There’s a collective gasp from the onlookers.
“Oxford!” I exclaim, mortified and secretly delighted all at once.
The mayor looks down at the wet spot on his coat with horror. “This… this is outrageous! Control your animal!”
“He’s not my animal,” I say, fighting to keep a straight face. “And I think he was just expressing his opinion of outdated stereotypes.”
Charlie bursts out laughing, not even attempting to hide her delight. “Good boy, Oxford!”
“I have never been so insulted,” the mayor sputters, frantically wiping at his coat and only managing to smear the llama spit further. “I’ll be speaking with your brother,” he tells Charlie, storming off.
As the mayor leaves our earshot, Charlie lets out a high-pitched squeal.
“Oh my god, Melody!” She grabs my shoulders, practically bouncing. “You are officially my new hero! The way you stood up to that pompous ass—and then Oxford with the perfectly timed spit!” She doubles over laughing again. “How does it feel to put Mayor Reynolds in his place publicly?”
I press my hand to my chest, feeling my heart racing beneath my palm. But it’s not anxiety making it pound.
“It feels…” I search for the right word. “Liberating? Like I’ve been holding my breath for years and finally exhaled.”
“You’re glowing,” Charlie says, grinning.
“I can’t believe I just did that,” I say, shaking my head. “I never talk back to authority.”
“Well, you should do it more often. It suits you.”
I turn to Oxford, who stands beside me with what I swear is smug satisfaction in his eyes. I wrap my arms around his fluffy neck and give him a gentle squeeze.
“Thank you for having my back, Oxford,” I whisper into his fur. “You’re the best wingman a girl could ask for.”
He doesn’t pull away, which I take as llama approval. My scarf is still around his neck, and I decide to let him keep it.
He’s earned it.
“You know Reynolds is going to be furious,” Charlie says, though she doesn’t look particularly concerned.
“Oh, no.” My momentary confidence wavers. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble for you guys.”
Charlie waves dismissively. “Please. Everett will probably give Oxford extra treats when he hears about this. None of us can stand Reynolds.” She hooks her arm through mine. “Come on, let’s get this hero back to the barn, and then I’m buying you a drink at Frostbite Brews. You’ve earned it.”
“I should really get back,” I say, though the idea of celebrating my small act of rebellion is tempting. “I still have some work to finish.”
“Work? During vacation?” Charlie looks horrified. “Absolutely not. Work can wait.”
I hesitate, thinking about the spreadsheets Marcus wants by tomorrow morning. The old Melody would rush back, hunched over her laptop until midnight if necessary.
But something has shifted inside me.
“Lead the way,” I say, grinning.