Chapter 3
Three
VIOLET
T he moment we have our drinks, I make a beeline for the outermost cocktail tables arranged near the dance floor, sidestepping various catering staff as well as a few Alphas already starting to mingle. Everything is done up in white even though it has to be a nightmare to get everything clean afterward. Flowers sit in an elevated vase in the center of the tables, small jewels nestled in some of the larger blooms.
Most of the Alphas stand around the outer perimeter, drinks already in hand, their eyes just as shrewd as mine as they take in the Omegas entering the party. A few pick over the tables of food set up on the opposite side of the room from the dance floor.
“I’m honestly shocked so few Omegas are wearing black. Really expected to be more ostentatious,” I muse. Most of the people around us are dressed in pretty pastels that coordinate with the season, pinks and blues and even a few purples. While the green of my dress doesn’t fit in necessarily, it’s not as outrageous as I’d hoped.
Faedra laughs and shakes her head. “The entire room looked when we came in. I don’t think you’ll have any problem with garnering attention tonight.”
I wave off her comment and look over the room again.
Do I look fucking amazing in this dress? Absolutely. The green silk hugs my curves and shines in the light of the room. But did I pick the color knowing that my mother would choke on her morning coffee when she sees the pictures tomorrow? Of course, I did.
Making my mother squirm is one of my favorite pastimes.
Faedra stands beside me, dropping her clutch to the table and messing with it, her drink nestled between her arms. A metallic reflection of light catches my eye, and I look more closely at what she’s pulling from her clutch.
Of course Faedra would bring her own snacks.
“An entire dessert bar, and you bring Rolos from the airport?” I ask, trying to gauge if she’s calmed down enough to not completely clam up tonight. If I want my own plans to be successful, it means I need to be able to leave Faedra to her own devices.
She smiles, her cheeks reddening, but then takes a sip of her drink. “Emotional support airport Rolos.”
I can’t help but smile a bit and scan over the room again, trying to decide which way to go first: snacks or dancing. The small pins everyone that isn’t an attending Omega are wearing become more pronounced with each pass over the place.
“There’s more Betas here with packs than I expected,” I admit after seeing the tenth blue lapel pin.
This one is tastefully placed at the gathered shoulder of a woman walking away from the snack bar, a small plate in her hands, her smile wide as she talks with a man with a red lapel pin. His arm snakes around her waist, and she laughs before resting her head against his shoulder.
Something not quite jealous twists in my gut, and I force my gaze away, looking at Faedra again. Her eyebrow is cocked, and I sigh.
“That’s what the blue lapel pins mean. Alphas wear red, Betas wear blue, and they’ll have the official pack name on it.” I cock my hip. “Didn’t you read the information they sent a couple weeks ago?”
With all the stress she’s been under, it’s about a 50/50 chance she actually did. It doesn’t really surprise me when she shakes her head and explains she was too busy with school.
Fair enough. I’d be drowning, too, if I had to write the papers her senior level literature classes require. I scrunch my nose as I think about the nights she pored over her books in our living room.
“The people working have purple pins in case you need to make sure.” I force a deep breath and take a sip of my drink. I ramble a bit to help settle my own nerves. “Betas being part of packs is pretty rare. They don’t have the same need to be surrounded like we do or to take care of someone, like Alphas. And the bond doesn’t quite work the same, either.”
Betas can only bond with the help of an Alpha’s claiming bite, setting their own bite over the top before the Omega has finished knotting and the wound has begun to heal. The thread is hazier than between an Omega and an Alpha, at least according to everything I’ve heard about it.
Mom would be mortified if I were to bond with a Beta. Part of me hopes I do just to see her horrified expression when the match is made public.
“Do you think you’ll bond with your match?” Faedra pulls me from my thoughts.
I twist my necklace around my finger and scoff, shaking my head. “Absolutely not.”
Bonding is permanent. No way am I letting someone have that much power over me. Escape routes are necessary, even in relationships. Maybe especially in relationships. “I may be Omega, but I still need some space to myself, you know?”
Faedra nods, a small smile on her lips. “Totally get that.”
She focuses on her candy again. I can’t help but scan the room. Again.
I’m not entirely sure what I’m honestly waiting for. It’s not like I’m going to be the first one to make a move tonight. Violet from four years ago probably would have. But now? If they’re that interested in me, they can come to me. It helps weed out those that are intimidated by my father’s notoriety.
The thought makes me chuckle, just a little. Notoriety has him sounding like a mob boss rather than the CEO of one of the largest financial conglomerates on the West Coast. Which, to be fair, is the legal version of a mob boss.
Maybe it’s not all that ridiculous of a descriptor, really.
A flash of blond hair in the far corner catches my eye, and my chest tightens. I breathe through the instinctive panic. There’s no way it’s actually him. He’s a Beta. If he wanted to end up with an Omega, he would have stayed with me. Right?
A person moves just enough that I can see the rest of him. I see the sharp cheekbones and round eyes that I know are blue even though he’s too far for me to actually see them. I see the easy gait as he cuts through the growing crowd, two tumblers of alcohol in his hands, the fingers worn and callused from his playing. I see it all, and my heart fucking stops . I can’t feel my hands for a heartbeat, and my pulse roars in my ears.
Breathe, Violet. You have to breathe .
What is he doing here? And why the fuck does he have a blue lapel pin signaling he’s part of a fucking pack? I press my clutch into my belly, trying to keep from absolutely freaking out. I can’t have a panic attack. Not here.
“What’s up?” Faedra asks.
My breath shudders out of me, and I force my gaze away from Jasper’s retreating form.
“Just didn’t expect to recognize anyone, that’s all,” I admit. She cocks an eyebrow, and I huff a sigh. “Remember that Beta I dated? When I was in high school?”
Faedra looks around the room, though she doesn’t seem to notice him. Of course she didn’t. She never looked him up on socials. She wouldn’t have any idea what he looked like. And certainly not those small things you learn about a person when you spend so much time with them, like the way they walk or hold their shoulders or look out across a crowd.
“Oh shit,” she whispers. “Jasper is here? Is he part of the string quartet?” She stands on her tiptoes, craning her neck toward where the musicians sit in the corner.
I shake my head, and she frowns.
“He has a pin.” I mess with an earring to keep from picking apart my fingernails. I glance at the main entrance.
Could I just walk out? Would the Council just pick some random pack without me even interacting with anyone?
“Do you want to go chat with him?”
I purse my lips and take a long drink from my Old Fashioned.
“I don’t know.”
Absolutely not.
There’s too much that’s happened. And that fucking letter he left me? I’d be arrested for assault if he came up to me right now, especially if he thinks he’ll end up matched with me.
Except four years is a long time. Maybe things are different. Maybe whatever he saw in me that he couldn’t stand is different now. Maybe…
“Not yet.”
I take a long, deep breath, recentering myself. He’s one person out of literally hundreds. I’m not going to let his presence ruin this night for me. I focus on Faedra.
“Did you notice anyone while you were looking?”