Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
RIANN
“You smell incredible, preciosa,” Skylar’s voice rumbles in my ear, and I whip around to stare up at her. She’s wearing a black suit with a black button-up, gloss making her lips look extra kissable. I take a deep breath, trying to breathe in her delicious smoky pine scent, but I can’t smell her.
She must be on suppressants. Bummer.
“You better get dressed,” she urges, her eyes falling to look at my outfit. “We’re going to be late.”
My eyes follow her line of sight, and my heart sinks. I’m wearing pajamas, and not even the cute kind. Fluffy bottoms with a stained T-shirt. Embarrassed heat claws up my neck as I look up to face her again.
She steps closer, her hand coming up to caress my face, and I nearly melt.
“Late?” I ask, nuzzling into her fingers. “For what?”
“The rest of our lives—”
An urgent knock shatters the image, along with my heart, and my eyes fly open. I’m buried beneath a mountain of blankets, trying and failing to cling to the image of Skylar on the backs of my eyelids. The corners of my eyes burn as the reality of her absence sets in, but I blink the tears away.
I can’t break down, not today. I have an alpha mixer to get ready for, and I can’t risk fucking it up. This is my last chance to find a match, to find an alpha to bond me, or I can kiss the Woodside Omega Academy goodbye forever.
Another round of knocking derails my train of thought, and I kick the pile of blankets off me, reluctantly crawling out of bed.
“I’m coming,” I groan, dragging my feet across the carpet to rip open the door.
Ziel is standing there, bright-eyed with a wide grin plastered on his face. In one hand he holds a garment bag over his shoulder, the hanger hooked on two of his fingers. With the other, he holds a carrier with two styrofoam cups. The smell of rich coffee hits my nostrils before his sweet almonds.
“I figured you were still asleep when you didn’t answer your phone. I’m always right,” he chuckles. “I brought caffeine and my outfit so I can get dressed here.”
I rub the sleep from my eyes and blink, my groggy mind slowly clearing. “Z, how did you knock with your hands full?”
“With my dick. Now, excuse me…” He saunters past me into my nest, and I bump the door closed behind him.
He makes himself at home, setting the drink carrier down on the desk and draping his garment bag over his beanbag chair. Then he peels off his jacket and drops it to the floor.
“You know we only have a couple of hours until the mixer, right?” He cocks a curious brow in my direction. I haven’t moved from my spot by the door.
“Yeah, I know.” How could I not with so much riding on it?
But it doesn’t matter how important tonight is, or that my enrollment at the academy hangs in the balance, I can’t be excited about it. Not when it means I have to put Skylar in the past. How can I stay in love with an alpha while I bear the mark of another?
“Riann,” Ziel says, his voice tender. “Are you okay?”
I force my eyes to his and attempt a smile that sags instead. I shrug my shoulders. “Do I have a choice?”
He sighs deeply and walks back over, holding his arms out for a hug.
I hesitate—I’ve never been a very touchy person—but the offer is too good to pass up.
I wrap my arms around him, welcoming the dramatic squeeze he gives me, trying not to breathe in too deeply or his baked almond scent will burn my nose.
“I know you’re disappointed, babe,” he says softly. “But it’s going to be okay. Some alpha is going to come along tonight and sweep you off your feet, I guarantee it.” He pulls back and grips my shoulders, leveling me with a sincere look. “I promise.”
A single tear slips down my cheek, and I furiously wipe it away. “Maybe you’re right,” I say, more for his benefit than my own. “But I wish you’d brought something a little stronger than coffee.”
“Ha!” He drops his hands and reaches into his back pocket, producing a quarter pint of coconut liquor, which he promptly hands over. “No one comes better prepared than I do, love. Now, take a shot, and let’s get to work!”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I unscrew the cap on the bottle, scrunching my nose as the fragrance hits my nose.
I’ve never drank much, and it’s always been fruity little cocktails that taste like juice.
But as I knock the bottle back and take a swig, the liquid burns my throat.
I choke down another gulp, grimacing as it assaults my taste buds, and pass it back to Ziel.
“Atta girl!” He takes a deep swallow of the liquor before setting the bottle next to our coffee. Then he connects his phone to my speaker in the corner and cranks up some upbeat, ass-shaking music he listens to at the club. “Ey, this is my song!”
I roll my eyes as he starts swaying in place, wiggling his hips.
“Come on, Riann! We’re going to have fun getting ready, and then we’re going to have a blast at this mixer,” he says over the beat. “Now, show me what you’re thinking about wearing.”
Warmth spreads through my system—a side effect of the alcohol—and I march over to my closet. Flipping on the light, my eyes rove over the clothes hanging inside, lingering on the few gowns I’ve managed to accumulate over the last couple of years.
I wish I had more options, like a jaw-dropping stunner that will surely turn every head at the mixer. But, unfortunately, I don’t have anything that fancy.
“How about this one?” I ask, dragging out a knee-length navy cocktail dress. It’s structured and classy. Pretty sure I got it for my school interview before enrollment.
“How about not?” Ziel scrunches his nose in disapproval. “What else you got?”
With a huff, I stuff the dress back into the closet and grab another one—this one a flowy red number with a high neckline.
“Are we going to a wedding?” Ziel cocks an eyebrow at me before shaking his head. “You know what, move out of my way. Let me see what we’re working with.”
With a groan, I step aside, watching with crossed arms as he peruses my dress options. I’m almost certain he’s not going to find anything—I was just in there looking—until he gasps and snatches a slinky black dress off a hanger.
When he turns to look at me again, there’s a gleam in his eyes. “This is the one. Go put it on.”
He throws the garment at me and I catch it, staring down at the fabric apprehensively. I haven’t worn this dress in so long that I’m not even sure it fits. I bought it forever ago for an event that got canceled, and it’s just been collecting dust ever since.
And it’s so revealing…
“Chop chop,” he says, clapping with the words. “Get dressed and I’ll change while you’re in the bathroom.”
“Fine,” I groan, stomping past him. At least he made things simple and chose my outfit for me.
Once I’m inside with the door closed, I stare at my reflection in the mirror.
I look like hell with bags under my eyes, but it’s nothing a shit ton of concealer can’t handle.
I sigh, shedding out of my pajamas and shimmying into the tiny dress, my insides wiggling when I see just how short the thing is—it barely covers my ass and the neckline splits low, revealing too much cleavage.
Heat burns my cheeks. I think I was a few pounds lighter and way more confident when I bought this thing.
Maybe a few more swigs of liquor will give me the confidence I need.
I grab my brush out of a drawer and start running it through my long red hair to give Ziel more time to change, curious what kind of outfit he has planned. He’s always the best dressed person anywhere we go, so I’m sure it’s spectacular.
Working out the tangles, I run some product through my hair to reduce the frizz and give my waves more volume. I could shower and fix my hair properly, but I don’t have that kind of energy. Or enough time, since I slept most of the day away.
“Are you done yet?” I call out, hoping he can hear me over the music.
Without warning, the bathroom door pops open, and I squeak. Ziel is taking up the doorway in a pair of loose-fitting black pants and a glittering mesh crop top that shows off his chiseled torso. He isn’t as muscular or large as an alpha, but no one can say he isn’t fit as hell.
“Damn.” I whistle. “Where’s the rest of your clothes?”
He opens his mouth to fire off something sassy, but then his eyes fall to my outfit. “Excuse me, ma’am? Where’s yours?”
I subconsciously cover my chest with one hand and purse my lips. “I don’t know, you tell me. You picked it.”
He barks a laugh and steps into the cramped bathroom with me, shifting to admire our reflections in the mirror.
“Yeah, this is the look.” He turns this way and that, checking out his figure. “And you’re absolutely wearing that. You look stunning.”
I make a face, still uncertain. “You don’t think it’s… too much?”
He shakes his head sternly. “Definitely not. Those alphas are going to be throwing themselves at you, just wait.”
The song changes to one of Ziel’s favorite songs, and he grabs me by the wrist, dragging me back into my room. He dances like no one’s watching—not that he would care if they were—and shoves the liquor bottle at me once more.
“Drink up, babe. I don’t want to be the only one buzzed.”
Rolling my eyes, I obey, taking another swig that burns my throat on the way down. This time, it’s much more palatable, the bitter taste of alcohol not threatening to choke me.
After another song of dancing, I move on to my makeup, winging my liner and painting my lips bright red. Ziel lines his eyes in black, which makes them more icy, and we take about a hundred pictures on his fancy, new-model phone.
“You know, I didn’t consider just how fucking cold it would be walking across campus in this.” He frowns, staring down at his see-through shirt. “But beauty is pain, right?”
“Yes, but beauty is not hypothermia.”
“Says you.” He sticks out his tongue. “It’ll just be a few minutes of freezing cold, and then we can find some alphas to warm us up.”
I laugh, the alcohol in my system promising to keep me warm. “Sounds like a plan.”