Page 15 of Vallaverse: Noir
Omegas go into heat. It's a fact. Inevitable and unavoidable. Outside of CCOE, Omegas are heavily chaperoned or sequestered away from society most of the time once they're mature; marked or not. It's for their own safety and I will agree with the safety measure. I have only been thrust into rut once in my life. It was when I was barely a man. Before I bought the property on the outskirts, I lived with my brother in the home we grew up in. It was walking distance from the city park and the library, and I often walked the distance whenever I wanted to go.
As I was walking home one afternoon, a young woman was walking, almost running, in my direction. I remember the strained look on her face and wanting to stop her and ask her if she needed help before a current of pheromones hit me right in the face. It took every molecule of willpower I possessed to stopmyself from sprinting after her in a red haze of perfume-fueled lust and pinning her to the ground. To this day, I think the only thing that kept me in check was my outrage at the fact that she was that close to heat and out on the street alone.
“They're ready for you, Valla.” A soft spoken Beta smiles at me from in front of the door she closed behind her. “Do you need anything before you meet them?”
I shake my head. “No, thank you.” I smile at her, but I don't think it has the effect I want it to because she quickly looks away.
I hope this is the last time I do this. I'm tired of searching for perfect. At this point, I'll settle for good enough. I just want happiness.
~
I've met them all. I'm not doing it again. After the third group of Omegas, I realized I was nose blind and I was relying on some kind, any kind, of pull that would give me the impression of a connection. I wanted so badly for my fading hope to be worth more than wasted time, but I shouldn't have been surprised. The majority of the Omegas were from CCOE. All bright-eyed and optimistic. Well, they weren't all optimistic, there are always a few realists in the group. Regardless, they were all toosomething,and none of them felt right.
I give up. I'm going home. I'm going to live out the rest of my days alone. I'll start raising goats or something equally time consuming so I don't spend all of my time wallowing in how alone I am.
I take out my phone to call my driver. He's somewhere in the hotel, likely chasing anything in heels. I'll feel guilty for ending his fun when I get home, but right now I just want to leave the disappointment of this place. “Josef,” I say quietly when he picks up. “Please pull the car arou--”
Everything stops. My heart slams in my chest when I catch the faint notes of a sharply enticing scent just as I step outside theelevator. I whip my head from right to left, but the only people nearby are two half-drunk Alphas walking toward the ballroom.
“Nevermind … wait. Are you in the ballroom?”
There's a brief silence before he tells me that he is, in fact, in the ballroom. He isn't supposed to be in the ballroom. He's only supposed to be in the lobby and at the small bar at the back of the lobby. I shouldn't be surprised. He wants what everyone else wants, and he's young and curious enough to go looking for it despite my caution.
“Just stay there, Josef. I'll join you.” I hang up before he has time to express his shock.
There isn't anywhere else to look besides the ballroom. There isn't anywhere else anyone would be. I have never smelled anything so interesting in my life. It's more than interesting. I only caught the slightest trace of that scent and I'm ready to start climbing the walls to get to the source. It's like an itch that becomes more intense the longer you go without scratching until it starts to burn. Citrus … lemon? Lemonade? No, not lemonade. Definitely lemon, though. Sharp and jagged and just sweet enough to make my mouth water. Not floral. Not warm. Like lemon zest. We use lemon all the time at the bakery. This is like that. The sharp hit of lemon when you grate the peel, but with the scent of sweet cream and fresh cake just underneath.
Oh … oh my god. This is a scent match. It has to be. Nothing else would wind itself around me and claw at my senses like this. My match, mymateis here.
Chapter Ten
Beckett
The air feels electric. The energy weaving through this room has my stomach wound tight with anticipation. It can't possibly be because of the ball. I barely enjoy them anymore. The dancing and drinks are nice, but the appeal dies down after attending more than a few Selections. This has nothing to do with the ball and everything to do with energy.
I've been approached by several Alphas and circled by more than three Betas. No one has offered me a rose, not that I would have been inclined to accept one from any of them. Too young, too old, too something I can't put my finger on. I've been here for over an hour. I've met everyone there is to meet. There were a few Alphas that didn't look or smell half bad. Not a perfect match, but good enough. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm here for good enough. I can spend the rest of my life with good enough, so long as it's good. I'm going to give it another fifteen minutes before I take the cocktail that will push me into the beginning of my heat, and then I'll just hope for the best.
It's still selfish.
It's still dangerous.
And I still don't care.
Maybe that's why my stomach feels so tight. Maybe it's because I know what I'm planning to do.
There aren't any bad Alphas in the room. Not as far as I can tell, anyway. Some are a little more mild mannered than I would normally go for, but sometimes those are the best ones. They give the impression of being cool and collected, but when clothes start coming off, that can change; sometimes drastically. I'm going to take one more lap around the room and then I'll see exactly how mild mannered these Alphas truly are.
Midway through my circuit, something happens that causes me to question my decision. A Valla steps through the door. Grim. Imposing. His expression stark as he begins prowling the room. His body is moving through and around groups of people politely, but it's more than that. He's prowling. Hunting. For the same thing we're all hoping to find here – a mate. And that fact gives me pause.
I've never spent time with a Valla. I've seen one or two around, and have dutifully steered clear of them the way I was always taught to. Valla are volatile, instinctual. They can bring the strongest Alphas to their knees. Do I want to throw myself into heat with a Valla in the room? If he is as domineering and violent as everyone says Valla are, there is no doubt who will claim me once my heat starts. Do I want to spend my life with a Valla? Could I do it?
Ultimately, the answer is simple. I don't care. I could spend my life with a Valla. They are intense, but so are desperate Omegas. If everything goes to plan, he's going to be the prime choice for the Omega instincts that will be riding me once the liquid in that vial starts working in my system.
He's working his way from the front entrance. I could so easily drain this vile and put myself in his path. I really could. If he's already on the hunt for something else, he may not even notice me. And if he does, he does. Being claimed and bonded is the whole point of being here, whether it’s by an Alpha or a Valla.
Careless. This is so careless. I know it is; but I still take out the little glass bottle and drain it before I give myself time to change my mind. I came here tonight with a plan and all I'm doing is putting it into motion. I have about ten minutes if the research I did is accurate. That's just enough time to put myself in almost the center of the room.
The first pinch of my immediately impending heat pulls at my lower abdomen before the three minute mark and sweat beads on my back, making my shirt stick to my skin. I'm not putting out enough pheromones for anyone to notice, not yet, but it won't be long.
