Epilogue #3
The conversation soon becomes eager speculation about what we’ll be doing for the next film. Lana’s keeping Bella, Andy, and crew on to recreate the magic, of course.
Haley stops by to make Alanna and me promise we’ll get lunch as a trio soon, and we chat for a couple minutes before Lana calls the budding starlet over to meet some contacts in a position to kick-start Haley’s career.
All the while, Christine and I are never more than a few feet apart. We each have our own circles, carry on our own conversations, but there’s always that quiet awareness and comfort.
In theory, it should all be scent-based.
But that feeling remained even when I caught a head cold that left me unable to smell or taste anything for a couple of days.
I asked Christine about it, and she said that while plenty of wives tales about alphas and omegas have been totally debunked—like that male omegas don’t exist, or that all alphas are inherently violent—there’s still so much we can’t yet explain about the metaphysics.
When the stunt crew disperses to go hunt down more drinks, perhaps it’s that special sense that sends the hair on the back of my neck standing on end the moment before Christine’s hand lands on my shoulder and she turns me to face a whole group of looming female alphas.
I fold against Christine’s side, grateful that none of the six other women are paying much attention to me.
Morgan Hunter stands out immediately, wearing a strapless black and white color-blocked dress that shows off a physique so muscular she makes it look like even Christine could stand to spend some extra time in the gym.
Next, I recognize Giovanna from her photo in the patient portal. She’s almost as tall as Christine and on the slender side, with golden eyes that calmly take in everyone around her. Her black hair has a natural blonde streak, and she wears a sharp peplum dress in a soft shade of lilac.
By voice I pick out Avery Quinn, the one Christine chats with the most. She’s the only one not wearing heels, opting instead for oxfords with an oversized silk button-down and slacks.
While she’s the shortest of the group, her sharp emerald eyes promise a certain kind of violence. Guess that makes sense for a lawyer.
The last three women I know the least about.
Two strike silhouettes comparable to Christine’s, one with rose gold hair in a high ponytail matched with a pearl-colored gown, and the other in an avant-garde layered black dress and black smokey eye that sets off her crimson irises.
The third is nearly as muscular as Morgan, and her bodycon dress flaunts her physique while the cherry color gives a flame-like effect alongside her deep orange hair.
“I hope you know better than to hire a West Coast wedding planner,” Morgan says.
Christine chuckles. “Not all of us are as old-fashioned as you.”
“Aw, but weddings are so fun,” offers the pink-haired one.
“Great, I’ll be very excited to attend yours.” Christine takes a sip of her cocktail—another Mai Tai.
“Ouch,” laughs the muscular, orange-haired one.
The shortest one, the lawyer, shrugs. “One less wedding, one less divorce.”
“Besides, who has the time?” scoffs the one in black.
“Oh, right,” Christine says flatly. “Thank you so much for tearing yourself away from your very busy tour. I know I’m such a burden.”
The other alpha tilts her head. “You are, bitch, and you’re welcome.”
For once, I’m grateful for Christine’s deflection skills.
A wedding was something we talked about, something she offered.
It’s not really the type of thing I care about, and it just sort of seems redundant compared to the life bond.
It could be fun, I guess. But stuff with my family is finally getting better, and I worry that either inviting them or not inviting them would end poorly.
Maybe I can eventually convince Mom to travel.
A couple miles, at least—I’m sure as fuck not getting married in my hometown.
The alphas continue chatting, and while I should be offended that they’re talking about me while I’m right here, I’m more than happy to avoid the intensity of their direct attention. Christine messing with me is more than enough, thank you very much.
But then I catch a flash of copper hair and green eyes down on my level: Jamie, Morgan’s omega. He has a glass of wine in each hand and offers one of them to me with a nod and a friendly smile.
Christine doesn’t take her eyes off her friends—though frenemies might match the vaguely antagonistic vibe better—but she seems to be aware enough of Jamie to nudge me slightly toward him.
We stand just behind our alphas as I accept the glass of wine.
“Really awesome movie,” Jamie says.
“Thanks.” He’s very… smiley. I’m not sure how I feel about that. But he seems genuine. “So… did you always know you were going to alpha up?”
Jamie almost spits out his wine with a laugh as he goes to take a sip. “God, no. But then you forget your suppressants one day and…”
“I didn’t even miss a dose,” I say wryly. “I just smelled her and mine stopped working.”
“Damn alphas,” he says with a good-natured sigh.
I feel myself crack a smile. “Damn alphas.”
Jamie and I chat for a while, and Haley comes and joins us. We catch up with Lana for a bit, then Christine and I continue to mingle until we’ve made the rounds.
The same excited buzz runs through the whole party; this movie is special. Really special. And whether it’s because that’s an accurate assessment, or it’s just that all our hands touched this work and we’re damn proud of what we made, I don’t care.
Even if it doesn’t change anybody else’s life… making it changed mine.
I’m listening to Christine’s makeup artist, Lisa, recount her niece’s Electra-themed birthday party when Christine taps me on the shoulder.
She smiles at our little group. “Mind if I borrow Mylo for a second?”
“Sure,” Haley says, and the others nod.
Christine doesn’t need to use any words to beckon me to follow, and we step out of the party room into the quiet, empty hallway.
My brow furrows. “Is everything alright—”
A velvet curtain muffles the thud as Christine pins me against the wall, claiming my mouth, sending heat flooding through my core.
My hands find her neck as I hungrily kiss her back.
Words sometimes fail us, but touch never has.
All the night’s excitement and pride and gratitude unfold between us.
I had thought, when I concocted my scheme to hide my omega-ness, that I was dreaming as big as an omega possibly could. That there was no better life to hope for than striking out on my own and carving a path for myself.
But oh, how much bigger I could have dreamed.
I had never considered that somewhere, out there, might be an alpha that I could respect, let alone trust.
That there could be a place to rest and gather strength for whatever storms may come.
That life could be a set of experiences waiting to unfold, not just a series of trials to conquer.
Her breath washes over my skin as her taste fills my mind and there is nothing in this world except for me and her and a boundless ocean horizon, waiting for us to explore it.
A life of endless possibility, waiting for us to grasp it.
And a safe shore for us to rest on…
As long as we’re together.
Thank you for reading