Chapter 4
Four
RYLAN
“ I swear to God, Dom, you need to calm down,” I groan.
Dominic scowls from where he stands on the other side of Jasper. He messes with the black cuff links. They reflect the light in the room, the only part of his black-on-black suit that offers any kind of levity. Jasper is dressed more traditionally, tailored tuxedo and simple bowtie. But Dominic? He looks like he’s at a damn funeral, not one of the quarterly matching galas put on by the Council in their longstanding matchmaking tradition.
The acidic edge of Dominic’s scent grows stronger the more people filter into the large ballroom and the din of conversation grows louder. We’re tucked into the farthest corner from the dance floor, Jasper standing casually between us, his shoulder pressed against mine. A man in his early twenties starts toward us, his cheeks flushed but his eyes sharp. A low, menacing growl from the other side of Jasper has him pausing before redirecting his path to several feet to our left.
“Dom, you need to calm down, or we’re going to get kicked out,” Jasper whispers, leaning away from me. The black tuxedo hugs his body as he does, moving over him like water, and it makes my mouth fucking water.
For all he looks like he’s attending a memorial, Dominic’s dressed well, too, wearing some Italian designer I don’t know the name of that costs more than my entire guitar collection. In contrast, I’ve opted for a more standard suit, riding the bare minimum line of the dress code. I wear tuxedos every single week. My one weekend in New York City doesn’t need to include them, black tie required be damned.
Jasper adjusts as he whispers something into Dominic’s ear, and it makes the small pin on his lapel catch the light, the gold name emblazoned against the blue background.
Montegue .
As far as pack names go, it’s not the worst. Certainly better than Jameson, and I know Dominic is happy to be rid of his family name. Maybe they’ll want to keep it after we deactivate, too.
Dominic whispers something too low for me to understand.
“They’ll just make us come back for another one,” Jasper says, keeping his voice low, his body leaning toward Dominic. “What’s your actual plan for the night?”
“Seduce you in the bathroom to avoid having to talk to anyone, Tesoro ,” Dominic murmurs.
I roll my eyes. “If you’re going to be that awful, just go get your alcohol and hide in the corner.”
Jasper elbows me in the side, but I don’t apologize.
Dominic mutters a curse in Italian and shoves his hands into his pockets before looking back at the growing crowd. There’s a rush of noise, and I sigh, turning toward the entrance, prepping to see the next wave of Omegas joining the party. Most enter in groups of two or three, laughing and smiling. Some are obviously nervous, messing with their hair and clutches and ties, their eyes darting around the large room.
Dominic says something else under his breath, but all I manage to hear is something about God saving him.
“Didn’t realize you’d given Jasper a new nickname,” I say, keeping my amusement off my face.
Jasper cocks his eyebrow and purses his lips. “You intentionally trying to get in a fight tonight? Because I don’t really feel like trying to separate you guys in a full tuxedo. The first time was bad enough, and I didn’t even have my jacket on that time.”
I shrug and finish the scotch and soda I’ve been nursing for the last half hour. For all of Dominic’s hatred of this, it’s not nearly as unbearable as the mingling events we have to do every so often as part of the philharmonic. Are there pompous, rich assholes here? Sure, packs tend to breed wealth, especially the ones that have been established for multiple years. Combined household income goes a long fucking way. But here, they’re the minority. The people here want to mingle, want to get to know others, especially the Omegas, since the hope is to be matched by the Council with one of them in the coming couple of weeks.
Well, for most of the packs, at least.
I chance a glance at Dominic again as I drop the empty tumbler onto a tray carried by one of the catering staff. His shoulders are stiff, his lips rolled until they’re a thin line, the creases at his eyes more pronounced under the warm lighting of the large room.
“I don’t feel like getting the shit beat out of me tonight, either, for what it’s worth,” I admit on a sigh.
Tucking my hands into the pockets of my slacks, I look around the room more intently. The Omegas are starting to congregate around the cocktail tables as the lines at the two separate bars dwindle. A flash of bright green silk catches my gaze, and I follow it across the room, oddly invested in figuring out who was bold enough to wear something like that to this. She twists away from one of the tall inner tables, a redheaded woman holding up a simple black clutch in some unspoken response.
There’s no pin anywhere on her dress. An Omega was bold enough to pick that dress?
I let my gaze drift up to her face, and my breath catches.
It’s been six months, and I’m happily paired off. Triplet-ed off. Whatever. But, fuck , I can still smell that honeysuckle sometimes in my dreams, I swear. I still catch myself thinking of her hazel eyes and black hair and golden, smooth as fuck skin.
And there’s no fucking way she can end up paired with us. Dominic will kill us both if we somehow manage to end up shortlisted. I need to hear her laugh, though. I need to know what she sounds like when she’s not in the depths of a heat and moaning because of my knot.
It’s completely unrealistic and borderline insanity. There are no soulmates, no perfect matches. Nothing waiting in the wings to justify bringing her into our little triad. But I’m as captivated by her as I was with Jasper when he first joined the orchestra. Did that situation have a happy ending? Yes. Eventually.
I’m under no illusion that this one will. It’s not like anything will even happen tonight, even if she wants it to. But the memory of her curves forming to my hands, of her writhing against me, is too strong and visceral to simply ignore. Not without making a giant fucking scene, and God knows Dominic will do that for the three of us without me helping him.
Bergamot bleeds out from me, my scent rising in response to my thoughts. Jasper leans into me and hums. Tearing my gaze away, I focus on my lover and best friend. Jasper’s eyes are half-lidded, his lips tipped into a soft smile. Dominic’s lips have turned fully into a frown, his gaze cold and sharp.
“Fuck it, Jas,” I say, talking over whatever new curse Dominic has come up with. I elbow Jasper in the side, pushing him away from me and fully into Dominic. “Better go find a corner and suck him off. He’s going to lose it if we stand here for much longer.”
Dominic glares, but Jasper laughs, tossing his head back and pressing a hand to his chest. After a moment, Jasper leans into me, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close to him. The kiss is as fast as it is deep, and I make sure my scent is all over him before he pulls away. And then I trace the line of his jaw with my lips and set a small love bite under his ear for good measure.
“We’ll be back,” Jasper whispers, breathless giddiness making his voice lighter and faster. He grabs Dominic’s arm and runs his hand down his forearm before lacing their hands together. The soft intimacy of the touch has a bolt of heat racing through me. Jasper levels a half-hearted glare at me. “Don’t have too much fun without us.”
“I should be the one saying that to you,” I mutter, grinning, and then laugh fully when his cheeks flush a gorgeous dark red. I shove his shoulder and push off the wall, starting into the throng of people before they’ve walked away from me. “I need some fucking food. I’ll see you in a bit.”
I scan the crowd, looking for the telltale green, and my pulse jumps as I lock onto it, following it through the sea of people until I’m no more than ten feet from her. She takes a deep breath and grabs a small plate before turning toward the large spread of finger foods the Council has had catered.
The soft cadence of the string quartet fades, and a DJ announces himself over the impressive speaker setup. Heavy bass of a newer pop song fills the room more thoroughly than the instrumentation did. I run my hands through my hair and scratch at the snake tattoo tracing up the side of my neck.
What the fuck am I even doing?
Being irresponsible, I guess.