1. Belle #2
"If I go," he corrects, but there's something in his voice that suggests he's already made up his mind.
"When you go," I insist, pushing down the selfish part of me that wants to tell him not to. The part that wants to grab his hand and tell him to stay here, safe in our little library bubble where nothing has to change. "This is your chance, Adam. Your chance to find your person."
The words taste bitter, but I mean them. Even if the thought of Adam finding his mate makes me want to lock myself in the poetry section and cry into a first edition of Keats.
"Maybe," he says quietly. "It's pretty obvious that my parents want me mated and out of the house.
" He pauses, avoiding my stare, the one that's trying to read his mind.
I never try to read it, because it happens naturally, but there's nothing natural about what's happening right now.
And if I don't control my emotions, then I'm scared that not only will Adam go to the ball, but no amount of suppressants can stop me from going into heat.
"Anyway, what about you, Belle? Don't you ever think about finding your person?"
I nearly choke on my own saliva. If only he knew.
If only I could tell him that I found my person years ago, and every day we sit in this very library, sharing books, dreams and terrible jokes.
If only I could explain that my person has kind eyes and gentle hands and a laugh that makes everything feel right with the world.
If only my person wasn't my best friend, who has no idea what I really am.
This is the problem: the feelings I have for Adam are the type that a sister has for her brother, the ones that don't want to let go.
This bubble we've created exists because I have no one in my life anymore.
No family and no real friends. Whereas Adam has parents, he has a family, and he was brought up in a pack, and his parents want the same for him.
But I have no one, and if Adam leaves me, then I'll have no one.
The thought of it terrifies me more than dying alone.
"I'm perfectly happy with my books," I lie, popping another piece of brownie into my mouth to avoid saying anything else incriminating. The chocolate turns to ash on my tongue. "Besides, you know how I feel about all that pack bonding stuff. Too complicated."
It's not entirely a lie. Pack bonding is complicated when you're an Omega in hiding. When every instinct screams at you to nest and claim and submit, but you can't risk anyone finding out what you are. When the suppressants keep your scent neutral but make you feel like a stranger in your own skin.
Adam nods, accepting my deflection the way he always does. He's never pushed, never pried, never questioned why I've never dated or shown interest in anyone. He just accepts Belle the Librarian, Belle the Book Lover, Belle the Friend. He has no idea that Belle the Omega exists at all.
"You're probably right," he says. "It's all so... intense. All that scenting and claiming and..." He trails off, cheeks flushing pink in that endearing way that makes him look like a teenager again. "Sorry, I don't mean to sound like I'm judging. It's just not something I really understand."
There’s the reminder of why this can never work.
Adam is a Beta, sweet , steady and uncomplicated.
He doesn't understand the burning need that lives under my skin, the way every instinct tells me to curl up in his scent and never leave.
He doesn't know that sometimes, when he's reaching for a book on a high shelf, I catch a hint of his natural scent and have to excuse myself to the bathroom until the suppressants kick back in.
He doesn't know that I'm not the uncomplicated friend he thinks I am.
"It's fine," I manage. "We're both just... not built for all that drama."
"Exactly." He grins, and the familiar expression makes my chest ache. "We're much better suited to quiet afternoons and chocolate therapy."
"Chocolate therapy is a legitimate medical treatment," I inform him, grateful for the change of subject. "I read it in a very official-looking article."
"Was this article perhaps titled 'Ten Reasons Why Chocolate is Better Than People’?” He asks.
"Maybe."
"Did you write this article?" He teases.
"...Possibly."
Adam laughs, the sound echoing through the quiet library, bouncing off the high ceilings and settling into my bones like a warm hug.
For a moment everything feels normal again.
Like we're just Belle and Adam, best friends who finish each other's sentences and share everything from book recommendations to baked goods.
Like there aren't secrets sitting between us, heavy and impossible to navigate.
But then he picks up the invitation again, smoothing it carefully against the desk, and reality crashes back down around me.
"I should probably give them an answer soon," he says thoughtfully. "And I should probably tell my mother. She's been asking about my 'romantic prospects' again."
"Your romantic prospects?" I can't help but smile at the phrase, even though my heart feels like it's trying to claw its way out of my chest. “It doesn’t take a genius to know that she’s the one behind the invitation.”
We both chuckle, because once Adam caught his mother giving out credential cards as if she was handing out resumes while job hunting, but it wasn't about her looking for work, it was her looking for a mate for her beta son.
“Is that what she's calling it now?"
"Last week she cornered me by the historical fiction section and gave me a twenty-minute lecture about the importance of 'settling down before thirty.
' Apparently, I'm running out of time to find my 'life partner.
'" He makes air quotes around the phrases, rolling his eyes.
"She's got this whole theory about how Betas need extra time to find the right match, so we should start looking early. "
The twisting in my chest intensifies. Mrs. Fletcher isn't wrong, Adam is twenty-eight, and in a small town like Willowbrook, that's practically ancient in terms of remaining unmated.
Most people find their packs or partners in their early twenties.
The fact that both Adam and I have made it this long without any romantic entanglements is starting to draw attention.
Unwanted attention that could lead to uncomfortable questions I'm not prepared to answer.
"She means well," I say carefully, though my voice sounds strained even to my own ears. "Even if her methods are a bit... invasive."
"A bit invasive? Belle, she tried to set me up with Mrs. Henderson's niece last month.
Ambushed me in the grocery store and everything.
" Adam shakes his head, but he's smiling.
"The poor girl looked excited, but I felt mortified.
" It's no secret that Mrs. Henderson is desperate for a mate for her omega niece.
The thing is that there's only room for male alphas in any relationship, and her niece acts like an alpha, because she's too demanding and aggressive, so she wouldn't suit someone like Adam with his laid-back personality.
"What did you do?"
"Hid in the cereal aisle until they left."
I snort with laughter, the sound bubbling up before I can stop it. The image of Adam crouched behind boxes of cornflakes like some kind of romance refugee is exactly the kind of thing that makes me love him so much it hurts. "You're terrible."
"I'm practical," he corrects, and then his expression grows more serious. "But maybe that's the problem. I’ve been too practical, too comfortable in my little bubble. Maybe it's time to take a risk."
My stomach drops. "You mean the ball."
"I mean the ball." He looks at me, those familiar brown eyes uncertain but determined. "I think I'm going to do it, Belle. I need to move on from here, the thing is the more I’ve been reading lately the more I’ve been thinking about life outside of this town.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. I knew this moment was coming, because I could see it building in his expression, in the way he kept smoothing that invitation. Yet, hearing him say it out loud makes it real in a way that steals the breath from my lungs.
"That's... that's wonderful," I manage, and I even sound like I mean it. Years of practice at hiding my feelings serve me well. "You're going to be amazing, Adam. Whoever you meet is going to be so lucky."
The words feel like glass in my throat, but they're true. Adam is amazing, and perfect in ways that most people never bother to see. He deserves someone who will appreciate him.
"Thanks, Belle." His fingers brush mine as he reaches for another brownie. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
The irony is devastating. He doesn't know what he'd do without me, but he's about to find out. Because if he goes to that ball and finds his person, everything between us will change. It has to. That's how these things work.
And I'll be left here with my books and my brownies, whilst pretending I'm perfectly fine with just being alone.
"You'll never have to find out," I lie, pulling my hand back and reaching for another brownie. The chocolate tastes like nothing now, just empty calories to fill the hollow ache in my chest. "After all, who else is going to keep you supplied with chocolate therapy?"
"True," he agrees, completely missing the way my smile doesn't quite reach my eyes. "I'd probably waste away without your baking."
"Probably," I echo, taking a large bite to avoid saying anything else that might give me away.
Because the truth is, I'm the one who might waste away. I'm the one who's going to have to figure out how to be happy for him when he finds his fairy tale ending.
This place has been my refuge for so long, the one constant in a life that changed completely in the span of a single evening.
But underneath the familiar comfort, something has shifted. Something has changed.
Adam Fletcher has been invited to the ball, and nothing will ever be the same again.