Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
Emily
The Pembrooke estate is a sight to be seen. Especially like this—all lit up with glittering chandeliers and a buffet that would put the Chinese Buffet back home to shame.
There’s even a live band playing covers of pop songs like I’m stuck in an episode of Bridgerton or something.
It’s not a bad vibe, and the dress—a sparkling red gown so graciously purchased by Sarah, at the behest of Luke and Simon—definitely makes me feel like I’m a diamond.
Or a ruby, I suppose. I’ve never owned anything this expensive, and I told Sarah after the Social, she could take it back if she wanted to get her money back, but she looked at me as if I’d grown three heads.
I run my hands over the red beads, relishing in the feel against my fingertips.
Growing up in Jupiter, I didn’t have many friends, and it hadn’t dawned on me until this evening, before this Social started, how badly I’ve missed having a girlfriend and how much I’ve enjoyed spending time with Sarah as well as her brother.
Speaking of, I have not seen either of them since I’ve arrived. Nor have I seen Luke.
I keep thinking about earlier, when I’d set off to run through the woods.
My omega was driving full force, for the first time since we arrived here, and being in heat, scenting him was practically turning her feral.
Once I’d managed to push through the haze of feral need, I noticed the momentary panic in those eyes—the same green eyes that looked upon me with envy were anxious.
I think I knew at that moment as he rolled over and bowed his head to the ground, Luke saw me as more than just an omega.
More than the animal I was at that moment.
And perhaps, I saw the man behind the wolf, too.
Lucas Pembrooke was many things, but above all he was a gentleman. He is kind and warm, and respectful, not to mention he has the whole tall, dark and handsome thing going for him. He is by all definitions, the perfect alpha.
He hasn’t sought me out or spoken to me since the other night. Since we kissed. I worry somehow I’ve fucked this up.
Today on the trail was the first I’ve seen of him since we kissed, and at the first sight of him, my damn omega pounced on him. He must think I’m a disaster on wheels.
“There you are,” the familiar smooth voice of Simon cuts through my thoughts, and I turn to see him with two drinks in his hands.
He’s dressed to the nines, his suit perfectly tailored to show off his lithe form. He offers me a drink, and I take it easily.
“Thanks.”
“How long have you been here?” he asks, sipping from his glass.
“Not sure. All I know is I got here before they served the food.”
Simon puckers his lips. “Surprised to see you without your guard dog.”
I bristle at his words, feeling equally enticed but also offended.
“He’s not my guard dog.”
“Not yet, I suppose,” he responds, leaning against the wall beside me. I sip my drink.
“What the hell is this?” I ask, squinting from the sourness.
“Limoncello. Made by Lady Pembrooke herself.”
I shove the drink in the nearest corner, and Simon chuckles, taking another sip.
“Ugh, it’s awful.”
“You get used to it after a while.”
There’s a strange silence that falls between us. Stranger than it has been all week.
“You seem… distracted.”
I wager how much to tell him. Though I don’t dislike Simon, I’m not entirely sure where I stand with him.
He’s friendly, flirtatious, even, but he hasn’t made a pass at me or tried to kiss me and I’m in heat.
He’s an alpha. Luke can barely keep himself together half the time—I know, I can see the way he longingly stares at me—but Simon hardly looks at me with anything but mischief.
It’s… odd.
“I ran into Luke this afternoon,” I say, figuring that’s safe enough. “On a run.”
“I see,” he says, sipping his drink. “Would you care to dance?”
I chew on my lip, weighing how to answer. Is this his ploy? His move?
As if he can read my mind, he sets his drink down in the corner next to mine.
“I promise I can keep my hands where Jesus can see them, darling.”
I laugh at his snarkiness.
“You can trust me more than you can trust any alpha, in this room.”
“Is that so?” I ask, my gaze appraising him. Simon grabs my drink and practically downs it in one gulp.
“It’s not you, it’s—”
“I swear if you say me…”
Simon smiles, his perfect teeth making his natural dark features stand out all the more. He looks like a vampire, or rather the sparkly kind people like to hate on.
“It is me, unfortunately.” He sets the glass down, offering me his hand. I carefully take it as he lifts it to his lips.
His kiss on the back of my hand is polite, warm. He doesn’t hover or linger like an interested alpha should.
His gaze lifts as he drops my hand, and I note the way his entire body tenses and his breath catches as he looks over my shoulder.
“There you are, Simon, I’ve been looking all over for you.” Charlie’s voice carries from behind me. And then I smell that heady scent of apple pie, and my own breath hitches.
I turn to see Luke standing there in his suit he bought the other night. His pants cling to his hips perfectly, his suit jacket drawing attention to his long arms, his thick muscles.
His dark hair is swept back, and I note he’s shaved, which makes him look like a whole other person. My insides heat, my thighs suddenly feeling rather moist.
“Luke,” I say, my voice cracking because holy hell on wheels…
Lucas Pembrook is like something straight out of my wildest dreams.
He catches my gaze, his green eyes sparkling beneath the light of the chandeliers.
“Emily Marie,” he says, licking his luscious lips.
Lips I know taste as sweet as they look.
“Emily has promised me a dance,” Simon says, his voice shifting back to a tone of arrogance. I’ve noticed that he speaks this way in front of Luke and Charlie, mostly.
When he is with me and his sister, his tone is more carefree. But I suppose that’s a natural alpha reaction. It’s just another way for him to assert his dominance.
“Has she now?” Luke says, clearing his throat.
Simon winks at me so quickly I know the others don’t catch it, and suddenly I realize the game he is playing is one that works in my favor.
If there is one thing I’ve learned with Luke, it is that he needs to be pushed. And seeing me with another alpha—primarily Simon—is something he can’t stand.
So I nod as I take Simon’s hand, smiling gleefully as I say, “Yes, I would love to dance with you, Simon. Thank you for asking.” I shoot a glance at Luke who stares at me with stoic reverence as Simon chuckles.
“Right this way, Miss Americana.”
I follow Simon to the dance floor, and he settles his hand on my waist. I slide my hands around his neck and raise an eyebrow at him.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” I say, reality striking me. “You like pissing him off.”
Simon laughs, his smile contagious. “Guilty. But you have to admit he makes it so easy.”
It’s my turn to laugh as Simon sways us back and forth to some classical rendition of Dancing On My Own.
“He’s staring at you, you know,” Simon says with a grin. “Can’t take his eyes off you.”
I can’t help the blush in my cheeks as I glance to my side, noticing Simon is right. But I also notice Charlie is staring at us. No…
Not us.
Just Simon.
And the way he is staring at him is certainly full of longing.
“Oh!” I nearly step on Simon as I realize all at once his words prior to their arrival. His reluctance to touch me or engage me during my heat.
Simon isn’t interested in omegas. He’s interested in Charlie.
“He’s staring at you, too, you know.”
Simon sighs, rolling his eyes. “Yes, well, Luke is easily baited—”
“Not Luke,” I say, shaking my head. “Charlie.”
The momentary tense of his body, the flash of surprise in his eyes is all the confirmation I need.
“Do not say such a thing so loudly,” he whispers. “My pack is here.”
Reality hits me as I look to my side, noting Charlie is walking towards the opposite side of the room.
“Your pack would not understand,” I mutter.
“No, they would not,” Simon says carefully.
“Does…” I swallow harshly. “Does he know? Charlie, I mean. Does he know you—”
The guilt and sadness lacing Simon’s eyes are his answer.
“It would make no difference.”
“Of course it would,” I whisper. “It would make a difference to him.”
Simon spins me around before giving me a soft smile.
“Pot, meet Kettle,” he says softly.
“No, this is not… I am… it is not the same,” I bite.
“Says the woman dancing with me to make the alpha obsessed with her jealous.”
I huff in defense.
“I am not—”
“Oh, look, here comes your guard dog now,” he says, giving me a soft smirk.
“Looks like your plan worked, darling.” He removes his hands from my hips, slipping away, leaving me on the dance floor alone as Luke approaches me once more, just as my body flushes with a heavy heat.
“Was he tolerable?” Luke asks, his faint smirk drawing attention to the dimples that have been hidden underneath that scruffy five o’clock shadow all week.
“Huh?” I ask, near breathless as a flush of heat overtakes me.
“Simon and his two left feet?” he says. “I believe that was what Elizabeth Bennet said when Mr. Darcy asked her how to stoke affection, right? Dancing was tolerable. Even if the partner was not.”
His green eyes sparkle with interest, and I suck in a breath from both his charm, and the sudden flush of heat. Sweat forms on my brow.
“I—” I can’t breathe. The room is spinning and closing in on me at the same time.
“I need some air,” I say as I push past him, seeking the closest exit into the courtyard.
“Emily…” His tone shifts completely to one of concern, of panic. I rush through the crowd, towards the doors, my heart beating a mile a minute.
“Emily, slow down…” he calls, but I can’t. I need to run. My omega is just as panicked as I am. I’ve felt heat strokes before, but this…
This is different.
It feels like my entire body is on fire.