Page 14 of Vallaverse: Noir
No Valla, though. Not yet. There might not be many, but there is at least one. The Valla that came in the back door might not make it to the ball, but he'll get whichever Omega he wants if it comes down to a tug of war over an Omega. There have been less than a handful of situations that I'm aware of that a Valla stepped aside for an Alpha, and those situations were very volatile. The Valla essentially made the choice to let the Alpha have or do whatever that Alpha felt was worth the risk of going up against a Valla. I don't know of a single instance of an Alpha besting a Valla without them allowing it to happen. Which further cements the fact that if the Westover girl is here and the Valla from earlier wants her, if there's a line of challengers, I won't be in it.
My room is on the sixth floor. I wanted a first floor room in case I needed to make a quick exit, but it wasn't surprising to find out that they were all booked. Based on the few Selections I've attended in the past, the first floor rooms fill up fast with Alphas hoping to snatch whatever Omega accepts them and make a hasty retreat from the ballroom. It's completely understandable. I remember being that eager at my first Selection.
The elevator isn't empty when I step into it. A Beta from the feel of him. He presses the button that keeps the doors open and smiles. “Good evening, ma'am. Are you here for the ball?”
I nod. “I am.” Why else would I be here? Why else would anyone be here? But the important question is why ishehere? It isn't odd that a Beta would be at the ball. Whole packs come in search of their Omega and it's completely beneficial for them tobring their Betas. If he isn't affiliated with a pack, there are only two reasons he would be here.
One is that he's shopping for his own pack. Anytime there's a gathering like this, anyone wanting to find connection and affiliation will find their way there with a skip in their step and hope in their eyes. It isn't frowned upon, but Betas have to be careful. Alphas aren't here to add Betas to their packs and they lose patience and their tempers quickly if a Beta tries to take their attention from whatever Omega they're interested in. Additionally, Omegas can be very sensitive and catty. They know very well that they're the sole purpose for the Selection and they don't want to share the spotlight with any hopeful Betas.
The only other reason I can think of for a Beta to be here, alone, and boldly asking me about the ball is that he's an Omega handler. Handlers are essentially agents who help Omegas navigate the event, and they will put themselves on the line to keep whatever Omega they're handling safe. Sometimes there is a connection and that Beta will automatically go with the Omega to their new pack or Alpha. Sometimes the handlers are merely hired help.
“So am I,” he says, and nervously bites at his bottom lip.
Ah. He's shopping.
“Be careful,” I tell him. “Have you been to a Selection before?”
He shakes his head and glances at the floor. “This is my first one.”
“Then you need to be extra careful. Watch the room for a while. Pay attention to the body language of the Alphas, that will tell you more than any conversation you could have with them. And, for goodness sake, don't block the view of any Omega. You'll be okay. Just take care of yourself.”
“Thank you, Alpha...?”
“Harding. Don't worry about it. Just be careful.”
He nods at me again before leaving the elevator. I hope nobody takes advantage of him. Or hurts him. Unfortunately, if he serves himself up to any Alpha he meets like he did with me, both of those things are likely to happen. But I'm not here to advocate for the safety and happiness of Betas, so hopefully he'll take my advice.
I have twenty minutes to get ready. It's a good thing that I'm not here to truly look for an Omega because I would need much more time than that if I was. While I need to look like I'm hunting, I need it to stay on the functional side of it. Part of why I chose the gown I'll be wearing is that the flowing skirt will hide the gun I intend to bring into the ballroom, regardless of the rules, and the length of it will hide the low heels I have to require. I can't wear the high, strappy numbers, not if I want to walk around or at all. Anything higher than about an inch or two keeps me in pain and keeps me from moving freely. Elegant footwear is one of the things I miss the most since my injury.
Once I'm dressed and made up, I give myself a good look in the floor length mirror that serves as a door for the closet. Not bad. I brush my fingers over the small gun strapped to my thigh and give my makeup a closer inspection before grabbing my purse and heading out the door.
I don't have the same anxious butterflies swarming my stomach that I had the last time I attended a Selection. Back then, I was still hoping to fill the cold gaps in my life with the warmth of an Omega. I don't think that's in the cards for me, not anymore. I've accepted it. That acceptance, and the fact that I'm here for a case, have squashed any butterflies that might still be lurking in the pit of my empty stomach.
Nobody looks at me when I walk into the ballroom. Light music is playing. Trays of appetizers and drinks are circulating. People are mingling, but you can feel the slight tightness in the air. I'm going to be exhausted after this. I hate the way theroom feels. Optimistically jumpy. It makes my shoulders ache and I have to fight the urge to roll them. I don't want any more attention on me than absolutely necessary, and rolling my shoulders could be mistaken as a sign of frustration or aggression. That's the exact type of attention I need to avoid. All I have to do right now is find a table, sit at it for the next forty-five minutes until it's time to go to the twelfth floor like my appointment card says, see if the Omega I'm looking for is with that bunch, and leave with her if she is. If she isn't, I'll have to stay for the end of the ball in the off chance that she'll be here. Staying for the entirety of the ball would be tedious and exhausting, so I really hope she's in the room and cooperative when I see her.
She isn’t. I don’t know why I thought it would be that simple. None of the Omegas here know her, and only one of them said she was vaguely familiar. I stay in the room, mingling just long enough to make one round and then I say my goodbyes. There’s no point in drawing it out for the sake of it. All I can hope for is the small chance that she still might be in the ballroom.
Chapter Nine
Pierce
I don't notice the way they stare anymore. It used to bother me. Every set of eyes in the room simultaneously trying to gawk and look away at the same time used to make me feel on edge. Not self-conscious. I haven't felt self-conscious since I was young and still trying to grow into myself. No, the way people look at me when I enter any space makes me feel edgy. Cagey. Short tempered. I haven't had an incident in a while; but the urge is always there, just under the skin.
It's the same with every Valla. Some of us handle the pressure of being on obvious display in public spaces better than others, but I don't know of a single Valla who is ever truly comfortable free roaming. We have to be mindful of every word we say and every movement of our bodies. A harsh breath can send whole groups of people running. It's just easier to stay away. It's calmer, too. I don't like having to temper myself to the extent that the general public requires. It's an unfortunately necessary evil.
I want to be free of all of it. I dream of never having to leave my estate. My ultimate goal is to find a mate, my scent match if at all possible, and raise a family away from this city that ruins everything that has the nerve to breathe its air. I don't want many children, just one or two. I want the package. The partner. I'd love to have a pack, but so far I haven't found anyone I'm compatible enough with to form a pack. My brother has a pack. He has everything. An Omega, who brought her Beta along with her, and an Alpha. To say I'm jealous is an understatement. And I have nowhere to put that jealousy, nowhere to express it the way I feel it. My brother loves me, and he knows that I love him, but even he becomes uncomfortable if I react to things the way I feel them, including jealousy.
So, I keep my distance.
I only come into the city for important things that I can't get out of. Or things that I want badly enough that it's worth the discomfort of being here and the risk of an incident. That's why I'm here now. I'm not getting any younger. I'm not old, but I'm definitely past the half-way mark. I want an actual life. I spent my youth building my business and making sure my brother had everything he deserved. He's settled. More than settled, if I'm being honest. I want to be settled, too.
But not with any of the Omegas that I've met today. I've met every single one who will be in attendance at the Selection tonight. All of them. That's why I sponsor this thing so heavily, so I get first choice. I don't care how unfair of an advantage that gives me. I built an empire, I should get to enjoy at least some of the spoils.
That's why I opened the CCOE. Sure, enrich the Omegas. Give them a safe place to be. A place where they should be able to breathe deeply and learn the things they're interested in. I made sure it would be open to Omegas of all ages because I remember how badly my mother wanted to learn how to paint. It wasn'tsafe, because it's never safe; and she was afraid to paint what was in her heart with chaperones watching her every move and reporting back to my father. He was a hard man. He took care of her, but he didn't allow her very much room to breathe. She deserved more than that, and CCOE is supposed to give Omegas a place to explore their goals and interests the way my mother wanted to. And it was. Until that bastard Doctor got involved.
He gave an initial impression of altruism. Making donations. Raising funds. Proposing better safety protocols. Those fucking protocols are what's corrupting the place. It's going to turn to ruin before too much longer, just like everything else in Coburn.
I wasn't there when the board voted him in, but I was there when his idea for the heat service was approved. I don't know why I was surprised. I shouldn't have been. Our society has made leaps and bounds toward progress, but the board for an enrichment center for Omegas is still run by a group of Alphas. There isn't a single Omega on the board. I doubt there would have been a different result even if there was an Omega on the board, even if there were ten.
