Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
On the night of the convocation ball for Saint Galen’s Consortium, a ball for new students and their packs and families, Cassian leads me up to my nest where an elegant dress box is laid out.
I pull the tail of the bow, and it comes apart, then I carefully lift the top of the box off, revealing stunning black lace.
I draw the dress from the box, the black silk of the skirt slipping through my fingers.
The ball gown is stunning, with black lace covering a sweetheart bodice.
The half-length sleeves are made of the same beautiful lace, and when I look closer, I realize the pattern of the lace forms roses and thorns.
I turn back to Cassian, wonder in my eyes. “Cass, it’s beautiful.”
“Let me help you dress, love,” he says, a rumble of pride in his voice. I carefully set the dress back in the box just long enough to cross my nest and kiss him.
“Yes, please,” I say, still in awe of the gorgeous dress.
I skip to my closet and rummage through my lingerie drawer for a strapless bra and a lacy black thong. When I show them to Cassian for his approval, he groans.
I let the thong hang from one finger. “You said you were going to help me dress, mate?”
“Why do we never leave enough time before these damn events? You want me to put those on you, but all I’ll want to do is rip them back off.”
I send him a cheeky smile and slowly slide my leggings and panties off my legs, bending low to strip them off.
I toss them in my laundry basket and then beckon Cassian toward me.
His scent spikes, filling my nest with salty summer sea air, and my eyes flutter shut as it wraps around me.
He comes to me and goes to his knees in front of me, taking the thong from my hand.
He helps me step into it, then slowly, he draws the scrap of black lace up my calves, then my thighs, his fingers trailing soft, teasing touches over my skin.
Just before settling the band of the thong over my hips, he places a hot, open-mouthed kiss to my mound.
A promise for later. My perfume blooms, sweet and thick in between us, and Cassian rumbles out a curse.
When he stands, he captures my lips in a searing kiss. “Two can tease,” he murmurs in my ear.
I shiver.
He hooks my strapless bra behind my back and spreads the gown out before me, helping me to step into it.
Saints, but there have to be fifty buttons up the back.
Cassian draws a touch down my spine, and I let out a soft whine as he does up the buttons.
I watch him in my mirror, our eyes occasionally catching, his deep brown eyes flashing with desire.
When he’s finally done up the last button, he sits me down in the chair before the vanity so I can put up my hair to show off his bite.
He watches me in the mirror, quiet as I work. As I’m pinning a loose curl back into the updo, I feel a wash of nerves through our bond. I turn to him. “You’re nervous. Why?”
“Thinking about tomorrow,” he admits. “Everything is about to change, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I’m worried I’ll be too busy to properly take care of you.”
“Oh, in that case, I know a beta I can steal. He’ll be all mine and oh, the things we’ll get up to without you…” I tease.
Cassian lets out a growl and closes the few steps between us to playfully nip at his bite. Desire floods through me and I perfume again. “That won’t be happening,” he promises.
I laugh and blow him a kiss in the mirror before pinning up another curl. “What else? You’re worried about more than just that.”
“I want to do my family proud. They believe in me so much, and I don’t want to let them down.”
I turn in my seat. “Oh, Cass. You could never. They believe in you—I believe in you—for a reason. “You’re smart, hardworking. Determined. I know you’re going to succeed. You’re going to be brilliant. And if there’s anything I can do to help you, I’m yours. I’ll do whatever you need.”
He stoops to kiss me. “You are mine, my perfect mate.”
We’re quiet on the long ride to Saint Galen’s.
While it’s about forty-five minutes from Fairhaven by ferry and train, the drive is longer.
It gives me time to think—too much time.
Time to reflect on the last ball we attended.
At least we won’t be walking into a pit of vipers this time, everyone ready to sink their teeth into us.
Kel and my father won’t be there to torment me.
But my father, he’s done so much more than torment me.
He’s killing omegas as he chases results to his devilish experiments. And he’s succeeding.
Cass and Ian both set a hand on my knee, feeling my small spike of fear through our bonds.
But that fear is calmed, replaced by excitement, when we step from the SUV in front of the Great Hall, where the ball will be held.
Sweeping steps greet us, drawing us up into an elegant ballroom, with classic architecture and beautiful marble floors.
If the rest of the campus is this beautiful, I can’t wait for Cassian to show it to me.
We glide across the smooth marble, easily finding Pack Leclerc waiting for us. Bethany hugs each one of us, while Cassian’s fathers exchange handshakes with my men. Pride shines from Gerard’s face as he takes in Cassian, here at his own alma mater.
By the time most of the packs have arrived, I estimate that about fifty new students are starting at the consortium tomorrow.
These new students will study law, medicine, business or education, via hands-on learning in small classes, something my mate is greatly looking forward to.
While Saint Galen’s isn’t the only advanced degree consortium in this part of the world, it’s easily the best.
“I can’t believe I’m finally here,” Cassian says in my ear.
I offer him a dazzling smile. “I can. You deserve this, Cass.”
He scans the ballroom and frowns. “Due to Council decrees, the consortium didn’t enroll any new omega students this year.”
Neither has Fairhaven. Alyssa and I were the last new omegas at the academy, and we’re juniors now.
“We’re fighting that decree,” Gerard says. “Tooth and nail, but the Soldiers haven’t hesitated to pass legislation at scribe point.”
“Enough of that talk,” Bethany chimes in. “Once again, this is meant to be a celebration. Now, mates, one of you ask me to dance. Cassian got my first dance at the Lunar Ball, and I believe Juniper deserves that dance tonight, as radiant as she is.”
I may be radiant, but so is my pack. Both Simon and Cassian have donned tuxes for the night, joining Ian, while Luca wears his black-on-black suit once more. We look good.
Cass offers me his hand. “About that dance, love?”
I let him lead me out onto the dance floor where many other students are dancing with their omegas and packs. Like mine, there’s more than one pack with a beta mated into it, and it makes me glad to see it. Simon will definitely have to be my next dance.
Cassian and I sway together to the light music of a string quartet.
We don’t dance to show off, though we could, we dance to hold each other in motion.
He cradles me to his body, leading me through small steps that never part us.
It’s a dream, this first real dance we’ve had since being mated.
Sure, he’s swooped me up into dances in the kitchen, but to be here, on the advent of such a momentous occasion, is truly special.
“You do look radiant tonight, Junes,” Cassian says, parting us only to give me a small spin, before drawing me right back to his hard body. “My beautiful mate.”
I stroke the lapel of his fine wool tux.
“You clean up well, yourself,” I tease. In truth, I wish I had more opportunities to see my pack in their finery.
They’re handsome and filled with sinful swagger, and everything I never knew I wanted.
“Thank you for this, Cass. For being my mate. You gave me this life.”
A life I was always destined for as a high society omega.
Before Andrew Radcliffe, my father had intended to bid out four mating contracts for me, filling them with powerful alphas—CEO’s sons, society scions.
I would have had a life of balls and parties, and I would have hated every minute of it.
Hated a lifetime of hiding behind a demure mask for fear of being punished by my pack behind closed doors.
I would have been an entirely different woman, downtrodden and meek.
But now I have it all. A wonderful pack, a beautiful pack house, parties, balls… It’s a life I could never have even dreamed of.
And it’s all thanks to the alpha swaying me in his arms.
Suddenly, a flash of future sight strikes me: Soldiers storming the Great Hall, hexes flying.
No, no, no. It can’t be.
I cry out, but it’s lost in the chaos as black smoke fills the air. I cower against Cassian. The Soldiers of Saint Aldous arrived at the Lunar Ball the same way last year when Trinity Wells was nearly forced to kill Grace Cassidy.
Cassian immediately draws his scribe, and I cling to him, frantically seeking out the rest of my pack and Marcus, but there are too many Soldiers, too many masks.
They strike without mercy. Hexes fly, and chaos reigns.
On the stage at the front of the ballroom, I can just make out the thin, curling horns of the Prince’s baleful mask.
He has the headmaster at scribe point. A man, a professor judging from the cords he wears hanging from his neck, dives in front of a group of Soldiers, his scribe raised.
Baphomet’s Prince hexes him, and he falls.
“Secure the hostages!” the Prince orders.
The crowd rushes toward the doors, but they’re guarded by Soldiers. Saints, there must be a hundred Soldiers in the ballroom, and while we have the greater numbers, the Soldiers have the element of surprise—and the brutality they need to strike down anyone trying to leave.
I watch, clinging to Cassian, as an omega is trapped in an omega trap. Blood drips down her wrists, and I fear the worst. That she’ll be made to watch her pack be slaughtered before her very eyes, like I’ve seen in my visions and nightmares.
Cassian tries to lead me off the dance floor to the rest of my pack, but we’re immediately surrounded by Soldiers. I’m yanked from my mate by a Soldier, his grip bruising and punishing on my upper arm.
Ian roars. Even amid the pandemonium, I hear it.
He charges toward me, his energy frantic as it sizzles down our bond, but he’s restrained by Soldiers.
He fights against them, but they force him to his knees and bind his hands.
Luca’s bond lights up in my chest, his emotions determined and focused.
He fires off a few of the combat hexes Cassian has been teaching us, taking down a few Soldiers, but it’s to no avail.
Twenty or more Soldiers surround me.
“Don’t hurt the witch. The butcher has a particular interest in this one.” They don’t cast the omega trap hex, but they bind my arms behind my back and push me along. I fight like a wild thing, trying to escape their clutches—until a scribe is put to my neck.
I cry out for my pack, feeling fear and despair in my bonds, and the scribe point digs deeper.
I bow my head with a small nod. My pack can’t reach me, and I can’t fight this many Soldiers on my own, even with my affinity.
I’ll comply. I’m shoved from the room along with a few other omega hostages and only just hear the Prince’s proclamation.
“The Saint Galen Consortium is mine.”