Chapter 29
I'm nowhere near as excited as I ever expected to be, perched uncomfortably on Lauren Treloar's slightly too-low cream leather lounge.
Even factoring in how uneasy I was about letting her down, I was braced for my alpha to act up around an omega approaching her heat.
But he's just… slightly concerned. Without the scent of freesias, he's just… indifferent.
At least Ralph seems a bit more like himself. He was almost chatty in the car on the way over—as long as we remember to call him Ralph. I just have to hope this little ray of hope doesn't eventually break him.
The woman herself is pure elegance and grace—I guess that's to be expected of someone of her caliber, even as her heat approaches—and has handled the news with her characteristic composure. Even so, she's surprisingly calm for someone whose heat plans have just been thrown into disarray.
My voice is husky and thick. "Once again, Ms Treloar, I must apologise for the inconvenience. I tried to reach out to your assistant, but I wasn't able to connect with her yesterday—"
Her delicate hands fold in her lap as she lets out a gentle sigh. "It happens. I appreciate you coming out in person to let me know." Her gentle hint of an Australian accent, her on-screen trademark, is slightly clipped. "Help me understand what happened again?"
I clear my throat. "Well. We had an, uh, unexpected encounter with our scent match, and, um, I'm afraid it's had a… er, a bit of an effect on our alphas."
She chuckles. "I've heard there's a bit of that around at the moment."
Ralph shuffles uncomfortably. "Of course, Ms Treloar, we just wanted to assure you that the NDA will remain in agreement—"
Lauren scoffs. "I certainly hope so, otherwise my lawyers would be getting rather excited." Her face is implacable, but I can't help but notice how her hands are twisting at the fabric of her pants.
Shit.
Ralph nods. "Mmmmm. Um, and of course, we will ensure you get a full refund and adhere to the breach of contract penalties. And we will report it to the regulator, of course, and you are welcome to make a report as well, if you think it's necessary."
There's a faint rattle of a door unlocking from down the corridor. Seb's sudden movement catches my eye. His head has shot up. He's staring at the mezzanine balcony. Zeke looks up as a quiet feminine voice calls out something about a freezer.
My alpha is suddenly on alert. My breath slowly oozes out of me in a long sigh as I try to slow my suddenly racing heartbeat. "Honestly, Ms Treloar, I got it wrong on a few counts." I can feel myself starting to sweat. Fuck. Maybe this wasn't the best idea.
Ralph presses his leg against me. His mint smells slightly less dry and brittle than it did this morning. I can feel a slight tug through our bond. I sigh again.
"I shouldn't have let my pack into the position we found ourselves in. I definitely shouldn't have let you be affected like this. I'm so sorry. Er, but I have some colleagues, trustworthy colleagues, I can reach out to if you still need support."
She holds up a hand, frowning and sniffing the air. She makes a sour face and flinches away. Her brow puckers, then something like understanding flashes across her expression, quickly followed by exasperation. She drops her forehead into her hands.
"You've gotta be kidding me."
She mumbles something under her breath. My brow furrows. It almost sounded like she was… swearing? She runs her thumb over her temple and leans her head towards the mezzanine.
"DelliEEEEEE! Get your gorgeous arse down here right this fucking second, babes!"
The nasal, shrill voice that rings out of her chest is, suddenly, not Lauren Treloar. At least, not the one from the movies. Wait. Did she just say—
Seb blinks. "… you're not… no." He barks out a laugh. "No, wait. No way! Are you…? Loz? Like, Dellie's Loz?"
She snorts wryly. "You must be the North Shore fucker."
And then… it's there. Freesias. They're faint, slightly sour, perhaps a little singed around the edges, but they're there.
It's her.
I'm standing. I don't remember standing.
There's a wet splat from upstairs.
Then a strange whooshing pulses in my ears, along with the quiet mutter of "for fuck's sake, not on the fucking carpet."
I look up. She's there, on the mezzanine, her face pale, her mouth hanging open. She looks like she's seen a ghost. Like how an omega looks before she runs.
But she's not running. She's still. She's shaking like a leaf, but she's not fleeing.
Ralph finds his voice first. Relief surges down the bond. "… Dellie?"
She licks her lips. "Ralph?"
He stands. "Dellie… Adeline?" He runs his hand through his hair, then freezes as he looks at her.
Her gaze flicks between us. "What… what are… Oh. Oh!" She sighs, shaking her head. "Pack Xerxes. You're Pack X, aren't you?"
I nod, unable to form words.
"... how the heck did I miss that?" Her voice sounds strained. "I should have realised… you're the best, after all."
Lauren snorts. "They may be the best, babes, but they stink like Auntie Di's fucking medicine cabinet."
Dellie looks at her. "So…"
Lauren shrugs. "Not gonna yuck your yum, babes, but they sure as shit aren't mine.
You lot… ooof. Fuck. I should ping youse lot to Heatseekers for false advertising—that is not like any kinda fuckin' springtime garden—at least, not like one I've been in.
" She chuckles and shakes her head. "Fucking idiots, the lot of youse. "
She stands, running her hands over her cream slacks, smoothing the wrinkles out. "You're all adults. Fucking act like it and have a fucking conversation."
She walks towards a door on the far side of the room, then pauses. Her head turns back towards us, her expression flat and humorless. "You hurt her, I gut you."
Her growl would put the fear of God into the most hardened alpha. I feel myself flinch. James is frozen. Seb… just nods?
She sets her mouth, and stalks through the door, slamming it behind her. Dellie blinks a few times, then rushes down the stairs.
I can see James is restraining himself with everything he has, but even so, he can't avoid muttering that she should be holding the handrail. The rest of my pack is practically vibrating. But I'm frozen.
Ralph takes a small step towards her. His face is pale. "Dellie—"
She holds up her hand. "Let me talk."
James stands. "Del—"
She scrunches up her face. "All of you. Please. I need… even if my words aren't perfect… I gotta get this out."
My mouth is dry. I can't move. Shame pulses from Ralph through the bond.
Dellie raises her chin and lets her eyes sink closed. "I… I'm sorry for not leaving a note."
I force myself to nod.
She pushes out a breath. "And… and I…" She swallows loudly. "I'm sorry I… I got it wrong. I just never connected with anyone like I did with you. Ever. My omega is just so selfish, see. She's greedy. And… I don't think she could have coped… but it's your life and you've worked so hard to build it…"
She takes a shuddering sigh. "I didn't mean to take away your choices. I just—I didn't want to force mine on you."
Zeke grumbles from behind me. "But you did."
She nods, wiping away a tear. "And now I have to give them back."