Chapter 10
CRESCENT
Three Days Before - The Convent
Loneliness was the reason I went week after week.
It was early Sunday morning, and the stone was cool on my knees as I waited, knelt at my bedside, head bowed.
My blindfold was secured tightly around my head, and my left hand had a silk glove. I’d left the little golden stitched flowerhead outside of the door this morning, signifying that I wanted to join the service.
It had been so quiet all week, and I wanted to hear voices other than the Sisters’ prayers, or the quiet turning of pages in our lounge.
Most of all, I wanted the scents.
I wouldn’t admit how much I craved them—the scents of others. Alphas, betas, omegas. Often nothing too overpowering, as it was rude to enter worship without a little dampener at least, but they mixed with the sweet smell of wooden pews to make something new.
Others that weren’t just gold pack omegas or members of the Sisterhood.
It was my only chance to be with them.
I heard footsteps passing my door, low words exchanged back and forth as the Sisters got ready for the service.
Each time they neared, I squeezed my eyes shut behind the blindfold, hoping they’d choose my door.
We were corruption waiting to happen. Letting gold packs like us mingle with members of the congregation—that would be chaos. So we were allowed to attend with an escort. Usually it was a Sister, if they wished to be generous, but sometimes respected members of the congregation would volunteer.
That way, we could still hear the Sermon, but responsibly. Some weeks, though, there weren’t enough volunteers, and we couldn’t all go.
Finally, I heard a faint rap on my wooden door, followed by it sweeping open.
I tried to fight my smile. The clipped shoes that entered were different from the softer footsteps of a Sister, and while I always preferred the comfort of a Sister I knew, the disappointment didn’t linger.
“I’m here to escort you.” The words were familiar, though the low voice wasn’t.
“Thank you for donating your time,” I said, as I did every time. I got to my feet in darkness, careful to avoid the long, grey gown we always wore.
As he stepped to my side, I caught the faintest aroma of almond and clove. A pleasant scent. He was an alpha, I could tell from the sharpness of it.
Rare, since they were held in such high regard in the Convent, and probably had better things to do than give charity to corrupted omegas like me.
Rather shakily, my one gloved hand reached out, palm up. I tried not to react as his warm touch met mine, and he looped my hand around his elbow.
This was all usual protocol, but for the proximity I was standing to an alpha. I could barely form my thoughts as he led me blindly from the room and down the Convent hallways.
Alphas were usually warned to stay away from the corrupted—to avoid risking temptation. I’d heard of it happening, usually from whispers accompanied by blushes, but I’d never experienced it. The few male members of the congregation that escorted us regularly were all betas.
To repent, to earn salvation with eyes like ours, the path was quiet and lonely.
Heats were suffered alone, and in full, in our rooms, the pain a payment for the risk we burdened society with.
I didn’t know if I believed in salvation—the teachings never felt close, or real like they did to some of the other omegas. But the corruption they taught of, the danger we posed… that scared me.
I was frightened of being the cause of someone else’s downfall.
This curse was a poison that I could never exorcise, but it was mine, and I didn’t want to make it anyone else’s.
While the omegas of the Convent weren’t strictly locked in, I, like the others, had been saved by them early on, and didn’t know much else in adulthood.
I was thirteen when I’d been found in my mother’s home with golden eyes I didn’t know were a sin.
It was simple: if an omega got the Institute’s injection within a year of perfuming, their eyes wouldn’t turn gold.
This, I’d learned too late, was about more than just keeping society safe from the rogue alphas those omegas birthed, who could be violent and dangerous. It also gave omegas, who were the imbalance and chaos to the strength of alphas, a path to purity.
I hadn’t known until after, but my mother was part of a radical group considered terrorists to society, sheltering any of their children who perfumed and not teaching them about the injection until it was too late.
The Convent worked hard to adopt every child discovered that way so they weren’t sent into an unforgiving system in the cities that would never give them a path to salvation or safety.
The alpha said nothing as we walked, and I tried to settle my nerves.
Naturally, my body, which ached from years of payments, reacted to him. There was a heat creeping up my neck, and my pulse raced, instincts daring me to shift closer. There was also slick pooling in my underwear, but I tried hard to ignore that.
None of it was in his control, and he’d spent the time to escort me. I wouldn’t return that with disrespect.
He was, I assumed, a younger packless alpha, since his scent was out in the open. Packless alphas wouldn’t scent match an omega, but those in packs typically opted into full scent blockers, as they would never want to risk scent matching a corrupted.
Of course, while other members of the congregation muted their scents, ours was required to be entirely smothered, as mine was right now.
Finally, I heard the low hum of conversation approaching. The breeze hit my face as we stepped out into the colonnade that connected the Sisters’ house to the worship building.
I stifled my smile, looking forward to stepping into the sea of scents. Hearing the gossip and talk of people who lived such strange and different lives than I did. Lives I would never have.
I was happy that he spoke to a few people on the way in. I heard a few questions about his choice to bring me, to which his response was humble.
“I overheard Sister Josephine say they didn’t have enough escorts last week,” he said. “Each of us should have the chance to hear the word.”
I think one clapped the other on the shoulder. “Blessed are those who take time for the sinners!” the other voice responded. “Luke, you’re going to make a fine pack lead.”
I froze, processing that.
Luke?
The congregation was large, but I’d been here for so many years, I knew enough about those that frequented the services.
There was only one Luke—Luke Anderson—and I never thought he would take time to lead one of us to the Service.
He was the son of the Anderson pack, led by one of our High Priests.
When he led us into the service, it was up the steps and to the back. I was a little sad about it, since it didn’t plant me in the middle of the thick of it, but I wouldn’t be ungrateful for being here.
He stepped into the pew first, sitting down beside the end of the row, which was unusual. Most often I was ushered in first so it was easy for me to find a seat—but then maybe he wasn’t used to this.
I hesitated, trying to figure out the best way to step by him. The pews weren’t all that far apart, and I didn’t want to be disrespectful.
I settled on facing him and trying to edge by.
My heart skipped a beat as I felt his hand brush my hip over my dress—helping me navigate, of course—but no one had ever touched me like that before.
I was so tripped up by it that I missed the final step, my foot catching his, and almost fell.
My hands snapped out, one finding the back of the pew, the other his arm.
I knew the mistake the moment I’d made it.
It wasn’t my gloved hand.
I didn’t touch alphas—not ever—but I’d been taught what would happen when I did.
Sure enough, I felt a sharp surge of desperate need—worse with every heat I suffered through.
It was so overwhelming a whine almost slipped from my chest. I managed to reduce it to a squeak, shifting my grip instantly to the pew, and dragging myself down to sit beside him.
Oh no.
Would he feel what I had?
My cheeks were burning, and panic took flight in my chest. We were about to start the service, and I’d just given him a huge spike of lust. Would he know? Or would my uninvited arousal stay smothered by the blockers? He hadn’t moved beside me, but his scent had shifted to something different.
Dangerous… or… wanting…?
I bit my lip, fists scrunching my dress in my lap.
“I’m s-so sorry,” I whispered.
We were never supposed to speak first once we’d left the room, but I didn’t know what else to do.
He said nothing, and I swallowed, hunching in on myself.
His scent was still… different, charred around the edges, as if he were trying to restrain himself.
I barely noticed as the sermon began, time slipping by in a strange panic.
Would he tell the Sisters?
I’d be punished—and that might be anything from being given more chores to being called into Head Sister Matilda’s office. But would they ban me from returning here again?
Maybe I could ask that only a Sister bring me in the future?
But that might make me seem unsuited for alpha contact, and being selected by a Chosen alpha pack was my only chance at something new.
Oh gosh…
If he told them, it would surely affect my chances…
I wanted to be selected by a Chosen pack. Once selected, that omega has served her punishment for being a gold pack and is considered saved.
Heats alone were so painful—I wanted to have paid enough.
When would it be enough?
Tears burned my eyes and I tried to blink them back behind the blindfold.
Selfish…
I chided myself.
The speaker at the front had to be almost finished, and still, Luke at my side was stiff.
All this time I was worried about myself—while he’d given me the opportunity to be here, and I’d ruined it. I’d turned what should be holy into something evil.
I spent the rest of the ceremony in numb fear, not hearing a word of the sermon.