50. Opaline
Opaline
Stepping around the corner of the open door, I make my way down the hallway towards the staff restrooms of the Event Venue. It's the closest building to the array of attractions that comprise the Mountain Glow Festival.
There are a couple of porta-potties that had been set up in the fields for the event tonight.
But this may be the single time I pull rank, in whatever capacity, to use better bathrooms. Happiness glows under my skin so much I feel like it's going to burst out of me.
This night with my mates and my friends has been better than I had hoped for.
My shoes barely make a sound against the rough tile as I walk the stretch of open hall.
A haughty feminine laugh stops me in my tracks, though, feet naturally coming to a pause.
I know that laugh. And once is enough to recognize exactly who's here with the same idea on private versus public restrooms.
The urge to hightail it out of here entirely and say screw it rises first, instinctually. Especially after the interaction yesterday. But another, new part of me wants to show off my collar of claiming bites again.
Immediately, I realize how petty my inner monologue is. Because really, at the end of the day, I've gotten everything I could ever want.
Hurt people, hurt people. And somewhere deep under that damn perfect skin and smile, there is hurt of some kind, causing her to act as she has towards me since arriving.
Is this when I be the bigger person and offer some version of a peace offering? Tonight would be the perfect night; everyone's happy and having such a great time. Everyone's spirits are up.
Mind made up, I step forward again.
Only now, a second voice hits me, their exchange chilling the blood in my veins like ice.
"She was at the OCF for TEN years? Oh my god…"
"I know, right? What kind of omega gets passed over for a decade!
I heard they found her living on the street like a stray animal.
You're telling me you're an omega, of all designations, and are so undesirable to even the most desperate alphas, and you still can't land a pack to take care of you?
" Annabelle's snort of derision echoes into the hallway I'm now shaking in.
There's literally no one else they could be talking about other than me.
Any happiness I was floating on dissolves, leaving me feeling like I'm free-falling in the hallway.
"Her of all people…I don't get it."
"Right? Thank you! She's fucking pathetic. Our plan is going to change everything, though. I can feel it."
"They deserve so much better."
"I mean, there's got to be a reason he hasn't claimed her yet and the others have."
"What do you mean? Ever?"
"Yeah. At least one of them is still thinking with their brain."
Vivian hums, sounding as if she's considering her friend's words. "You can have more than one scent match, you know. I still believe Everette's mine. We were always, like, soulmates. The timing just wasn't right, so he didn't feel it like I did."
"I mean, he doesn't even have to be your scent match in order for you to get him back," Annabelle laughs.
"We'll see. We just need more time together.
A second chance." Wavering slightly, I accidentally move into the line of sight enough to see their perfect, beautiful faces as they touch up their makeup in the mirror.
Their reflections are bright under the vanity lighting, eyes practically dancing with excitement.
It hits me with sudden, startling clarity.
I can't believe I didn't put this together when we were introduced.
This woman with the gorgeous, thick dark hair, huge eyes and lips…
is THE Vivian. Annabelle's best friend, Vivian, that she's practically used as a thinly veiled threat towards me more than once.
I'm starting to think maybe she is a threat.
Because that history she always eluded to? Is now confirmed.
"What we had was so special, though. He knows that. I just can't imagine him feeling something so deep with anyone else. And god, the chemistry between us is insane. Some of the best sex I've ever had. Trust me, that man hasn't forgotten that. No man could."
Their laughter and cackles pound between my ears, and I feel like my limbs are suddenly weighed down with sandbags.
"One time, he took me to a charming little B my lungs are strangled.
Memories of stealing food, sleeping with Sparkles outside next to a fucking bar alley vent, ten years of being overlooked and passed over steal any coherent thought left.
All I do is feel…feel the overwhelm, the fear, the shame, the anxiety of who I am and my past. Hell, my own father didn't even think I was good enough. Why on earth would anyone else?
I can't do this. The one place I know I need to go to conjures itself behind my eyelids, the associated feelings clear as day. Pushing past the venue kitchen, I round the corner and break free through the side entrance. "Whoa! Opaline? What—hey, what's going on? What hap—"
Hazy, tear-sheened eyes land on Everette, the image of him unclear past the moisture clouding my vision. Just seeing him makes it worse, not better. The rising heat and tears break into a sob at the sight of him.
"Don't… Everette. Not now," I breathe heavily, gasping for air. "Please, I can't. Especially with you, right now."
"I…what? With me? Opal, look—"
"No!" I yell, tears slipping free, coating my cheeks, mixing with mascara and blurring everything.
The sound of the heavy metal containers he's holding hitting the ground reaches my ears as he practically tosses them and starts towards me.
"Please," I plead. "Please, don't. I just— I can't do this right now. I need to be alone. I can't do this."
He slows, hand out towards me like I'm a fucking feral animal. It just pisses me off and upsets me more. "Sweetheart, whatever it is…we can talk about it. I promise."
"I said no." My fists ball at my sides, chin wobbling.
"I need to be alone." Sniffing and sucking in a breath, I turn to leave, my body turning away before my eyes.
He's done absolutely nothing to upset me, and I know I'm being unreasonable.
I'm not communicating like I should be, and I'm taking my anger and insecurities out on the wrong person.
I'm aware…and yet, it doesn't change anything.
Only now, I realize how much of a selfish asshole I am, again, and guilt hits me like a tsunami, over my already weak, weighed-down body.
Running away, I feel the heaviness of his stare and every ounce of distress washing off of my mate as he surely fights every instinct and the control his inner primal is no doubt pushing for. Staying and watching me walk away is like dangling a steak in front of a caged lion.
Honoring my request, he doesn't follow as I make my way at a sprint towards the dark tree line.