Chapter 5
CHAPTER
FIVE
Marigold
Ahurricane named Rue storms into my room.
“Something I can help you with?” I ask with a ready smile.
She glowers. “No.”
Rue’s so incensed she ignores the pretty, dreamy dresses on the bed, all new, and the feathered accents, the cloak, shoes, and choker that lie next to them.
Normally, Rue would be diving in, trying to try on my dresses. Instead, she goes to flop on the bed, but I catch her elbow, spinning her to sit in my vanity’s chair.
“Spill,” I tell her. “Something’s bothering you.”
“Obviously.” She frowns again, clearly getting her thoughts in order. Then she says, “The Stiches all suck.”
“The ones by Queen Bee?”
“More like Queen Bitch.”
I laugh. It cheers her up for only a millisecond. Then the happiness slides right off.
“She keeps poking the Monarch,” she says, a frown pulling at her mouth. “It’s like she’s obsessed with her.”
“I think the obsession is mutual,” I say. “The Monarch has been working hard to find out Queen Bee’s identity.”
“Yeah, but I don’t care about their feud. I want the new gossip! What does Queen Bee actually know?” Rue whines.
“She’s stitching this for likes?”
Rue nods. “Rage-baiting is what Neve calls it. But I don’t understand why. We’ve kind of been in the center of each Season since Vi’s. I was hoping for more…”
“Attention?”
“Exactly!” she says, exasperated. “What if the QB is still griping about the Monarch during my Season?”
Understanding clicks into place. That’s where this tantrum is actually coming from. I press my lips together to stop the bubbling laughter from spilling out.
“She’s still a bitch,” Rue says, crossing her arms.
“Don’t say that around Heath.”
She waves that away. “He’s said worse.”
That’s an understatement.
“You’ll get your turn in the spotlight, Rue. Don’t worry about it so much,” I say, trying to appease her. “The entire goal for the Season is to find love, a mate. Not be the Luxe or the most-mentioned on Stitch.”
“That’s true. I just can’t believe I have to wait until after Dahlia’s Season.
She’s too smart for any of the Alphas here.
I can’t see anyone picking her to be their mate.
” She turns in the chair, swinging her legs before flopping back dramatically.
“Unless they need someone to correct their grammar mid-sentence or lecture them to sleep every night.”
“Dahlia might end up skipping hers,” I say. “She’s been applying to colleges, and if she gets into somewhere big, maybe on the mainland, she might not need to participate in the Season at all.”
Rue sits up suddenly. “Really? That can happen?”
Can it? Sure. Are the odds in Dahlia’s favor? No.
“An Omega from Sabine going to a prestigious college is unheard of. Omegas going to college at all is rare since we’re expected to stay home and have babies,” I add with a shrug. “Maybe Dahlia will be the first.”
“If only I could have my Season early,” Rue says, sighing happily. “Wouldn’t that be great?”
I let Rue have her moment instead of pointing out how things actually work. It would burst her bubble and depress her. “Heath might actually vote for that if you annoy him enough.”
She gasps dramatically. “Challenge accepted.”
The front door downstairs slams shut, and Rue bolts upright, on her feet and racing for the hall in the next beat. “Is that Heath? It has to be.”
“I hope you know I was joking—”
She takes off before I can finish, pounding down the hall like she somehow has an entire herd of elephants trapped under her skin. I groan, rubbing a hand over the knot in my chest.
This is going to end terribly.
The first ball is tomorrow, and the townhouse already feels chaotic. Deliveries have been arriving nonstop all day—flowers, fabrics, decorations, crates of things I don’t recognize. By tomorrow, this place is going to be complete insanity.
Between preparations for the Season, the party, and now the coming ball, I haven’t had much time to see Reece lately.
Usually I don’t have to look hard for him. He’s normally just…there. Quietly fixing something, carrying something, slipping in and out of rooms like he belongs in the spaces people forget to notice.
It’s strange how I’ve gotten used to his company. How easy it is to talk to him.
Out of almost everyone I know, Reece is one of the few people who actually sees me. What am I going to do when that ease is gone?
I slide out of my room and pass Dahlia’s, but her door is cracked open and the room beyond feels strangely empty. Not messy. Never messy. Just…absent.
My gaze catches on a piece of paper resting in the center of her perfectly made bed. Normally, I wouldn’t go in. Dahlia likes her space untouched, everything in its exact place. The only time she ever really lets herself unravel is when she’s playing music.
But the note draws me in anyway.
I step inside and pick it up carefully.
Mari,
I’m at another lesson tonight, and tomorrow I’ll probably be gone most of the day too. I know the timing isn’t ideal, and I’m sorry I won’t be there with you before the ball.
But this matters.
My tutor thinks I actually have a chance at getting into one of the conservatories I’ve been looking at. Maybe even with a scholarship if I work hard enough. So I have to keep trying.
I know everyone keeps acting like the Season is the most important thing in the world, but…I don’t think it’s my most important thing.
You understand that, right?
Besides, you’ll survive one night without me hovering nearby correcting people under my breath. Probably.
Good luck tomorrow, Mari. Really.
And if anyone annoys you too much, step on their foot and blame the shoes.
- Dahlia
By the end, my chest aches in the strange, swollen way it always does when it comes to her.
Pride. Love. Sadness. Hope. All tangled together.
I fold the note carefully and slip it into my pocket before heading down the servant stairs and out toward the garden.
Breathing in the cool evening air, I don’t realize my destination until I’m already there. I’ve drifted all the way down toward the shed at the edge of the property.
I slow.
The door opens and I freeze as he steps out.
Reece pauses mid-movement, a wrench still in his hand, brows lifting in clear surprise. “Mari?”
I glance over my shoulder, suddenly understanding why I came outside in the first place. Not just to breathe. Not just to escape. To see him.
“You disappeared,” I say. “I haven’t seen you in a few days and I was starting to think you went back to Pen’s.”
A faint flush creeps across his face. “Sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’ve been busy tinkering with things.”
“Things?”
His mouth twitches slightly. “You know, my useless gadgets. My pieces of garbage.”
My heart clenches. “Those are Derrick’s words.”
When he shrugs, I study him properly. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing tanned skin smudged faintly with grease and dirt. He looks tired, like he’s been spending too many late nights buried in his projects instead of sleeping.
“Must be something important to you,” I say gently. “I haven’t seen you since the party.”
“Yeah.” His expression turns sheepish. “I thought I was onto something, so I kind of disappeared into it.”
“Anything big?”
A small laugh escapes him, soft and rough around the edges. “Of course not.”
The evening air hums quietly around us, warm and thick with the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass. Fireflies blink lazily against the gathering dusk, and at another time, I might bask in this beautiful night and paint it with watercolors.
It’s been a while since I’ve been able to capture simple beauty and joy on paper or canvas. It’s the layers, the complexities that draw me in now.
One day I hope to get back to bright colors and dreamy scenes, but right now, I can’t reach that place. No matter how hard I try.
I glance up at Reece. “Derrick still bothering you?”
He sighs. “Derrick bothers everyone.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“He…” Reece searches for the words. “Gets intense sometimes. He worries about screwing this job up, so he takes it seriously.”
I can tell by the clench of his jaw there’s more he wants to say. More he keeps to himself.
“He acts like you personally offended him by breathing wrong,” I supply.
That startles a real laugh out of him. I smile, relieved to hear it.
“He’s not all bad,” Reece says after a moment. “He’s had to carry a lot for a long time. Sometimes I think he forgot how to put any of it down.”
There’s no resentment in his voice when he says it. Just exhaustion. Loyalty worn thin but still intact.
“What about you?” I ask quietly. “What do you want?”
He blinks like no one’s ever asked him that before.
“I want to make something useful to people,” he says finally. “Something that can make someone else’s life better.”
The answer settles warmly in my chest.
Of course he does.
Everything about Reece feels made for creating. Careful hands. Quiet patience. The way he studies the world like he’s always trying to understand how it works beneath the surface.
“You will,” I say immediately. “Change lives, I mean.”
He huffs. “You say that like it’s guaranteed.”
“It should be.”
The statement makes him look at me again, really look at me, and suddenly the air feels strange. Electrified somehow. Buzzing.
“And you?” he says after a second’s hesitation.
Heat rushes into my face so quickly it’s almost painful. “Me?”
“What do you want?”
“Oh. Right now?” Brilliant response, Mari. “Or in general?”
Many things. I want so many things it hurts to count them sometimes.
Then the breeze shifts, carrying his scent closer, and my breath catches. He smells like art supplies. Fresh pencil shavings. Graphite and wood and something warm beneath it all that’s simply him.
The scent wraps around me before I can prepare for it, and suddenly I’m painfully aware of how close we’re standing.
Of the elegant shape of his hands.
The lean lines of him beneath his clothes.
The softness of his mouth.
I wonder what kissing him would feel like, taste like.
The thought hits so suddenly my stomach flips.
It wouldn’t be sloppy and awkward, like last year with Mason Peters. Not something I’d laugh off afterward or regret.
Kissing Reece would be weighty, solid. Genuine.
He’s so tall, my gaze swings up to his lips and I start to rise on my toes… To kiss him would be… It would be…
Reece’s breathing changes. Barely. But enough.
And that’s exactly why I step back.
Because he’s my friend.
Because the ball is tomorrow.
Because ruining this friendship we have would hurt more than never knowing what he tastes like.
“Don’t hide away in the shed forever,” I say lightly instead.
A smile pulls at his mouth. “Okay.”
“Mari? Marigold?” Mom calls from the back door. “Are you out there?”
Reece immediately shifts back to make more space between us, and the few inches feels cavernous.
I don’t want him to go yet. “Reece, I—”
“Mari, I need you,” Mom continues to yell into the yard. “Come inside.”
I turn toward the house. “In a second—”
But when I glance back, Reece is already gone, and the beautiful night suddenly feels dimmer for it, as though he took the last of the evening’s magic with him.
“Well,” Mom says, smoothing her finger over a second note written in Dahlia’s perfect handwriting. “I don’t know why that girl can’t text like a normal person.”
Because she likes the old-fashioned feeling of leaving a note, I think, but I keep it to myself. “I’m sure she’d be here if she could.”
Mom eyes me, her expression giving her away. “Of course. It’s disappointing, but I also know these lessons are important. They’ll improve her chances at a scholarship. Imagine, Dahlia one of the few Omegas from here attending a college.”
I nod. “It’ll be all anyone will talk about for a while, for sure.”
“And it’s what she wants,” Mom says. “It’s what she’s been working for since she’s been big enough to reach the piano keys. I want to support her dreams, all your dreams, but it doesn’t mean I don’t miss you all when you’re gone.”
Her smile is a sad one mixed with pride, and it’s moments like this that remind me how loving and supportive our mother really is.
She could be like the vicious, competitive other moms that want their Omega children to mate well and don’t care about anything else.
But not our mom. She’s always wanted what’s best for us.
With the Seasons being so hectic, it’s easy to forget the truth.
Mom sighs, patting me on the shoulder and stuffing Dahlia’s note in her pocket. “Oh.” She stops halfway to the door. “Remind me to thank that boy. Reece.”
I straighten and my heart jams my throat. “Reece? Why?”
“Rita told me he fixed the stand mixer and now it’s better than new. She’s been flying through all her to-do list and all the treats we need for tomorrow because of it. I want our ball to be the one nobody else can top this Season. We can’t forget it can sweeten your chances at becoming Luxe, too.”
“I know,” I say. “But I’m not worried.”
“I know you’re not, my dear,” Mom says. “This all must feel so easy for you.”
I pause. “We’ll see what happens at the ball.”
It’s the diplomatic answer, and luckily for me it works like a charm.
“You’re right. Anything can happen.” Excitement raises her voice. “Could you imagine if the Monarch chose you as one of her Luxe candidates after our ball?” She gasps as another idea comes to her. “Or if she announced you as one at our ball!”
It crushes me into nothingness is what it does. Yes, I can imagine it.
I don’t want to.
“You’ll have every Alpha knocking on our door, Mari. Remember how it was for Violet?”
I sure do. After the Monarch announced Violet as Luxe during her Season, she went on tons of dates with Alphas from all families.
She even caught the eye of the insanely rich pharmacy CEO, Dominic Stockton.
But he ended up being a huge douchebag, and let’s be honest, her heart was claimed by Stephan the moment they met.
But I smile and nod. “Yes, Mom.”
Mom clutches her hands to her heart, lost in fantasies, until she notices my silence. Only then does she glance my way and see more than what I want her to see on my face.
“Mari, this is a mating and it’s for life. You will find true love there. I know it. I feel it. So best foot forward tomorrow and say yes to every Alpha who asks you to dance. Be nice, polite, wonderful Mari. You never know. True love can be waiting for you tomorrow night.”
I can’t move. Can’t breathe.
True love?
Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.