Page 65 of Perfectly Naïve
Emeline’s smile is bright as she chats with my pack, but something about her posture feels off. Like it’s forced relaxation. Unease swirls inside me. Some part of me senses the anger simmering beneath her skin. I sit next to her, and her eyes flit to me, her smile widening. Too forced. Too performative.
I glance at my pack to see if they notice, but Nigel is setting the dish down, distracting everyone. Does Nigel truly not see his omega? Or is he clinging to hope that she’ll be okay? That she won’t be yet another statistic? Theodore brushes his hand over Emeline’s shoulder, but where she would normally lean into it, she ignores the touch.
Everyone starts to fill their plates, focused on my pack telling everyone what they do for a living. Emeline serves herself. I reach for the dish, and she hands it over, but when I start to pull it, she holds on for three seconds too long. Her eyes narrow.
I swallow, trying not to feed her reactions. Going feral isn’t an instantaneous process. It’s slow cracks. Baby steps. Unbearable grief that gradually morphs into uncontrollable rage. A sickness that takes its time settling in and refuses to leave.Theodore murmurs something to Emeline, pulling her attention from me.
A harsh exhale rushes out of me.
“Everything okay?” Liam murmurs.
“Uh, yeah.” I’ll have to explain things to them later. If I bring it up again, it’ll only upset Nigel, and who knows how Emeline would react.
“Livvy,” Nigel says. “What are you doing for your birthday?”
“Oh.” My birthday is in two months, and I haven’t really planned anything. “I actually don’t know.”
He takes a sip of his wine. “We’d love to help you celebrate. Have you and the pack over.”
“That would be?—”
“You’re not going to askyouromega if that’s okay?” Emeline snaps.
Silence blankets the table. Heavy. Louder than conversation itself. Nigel’s eyes widen and he sits a little straighter. “Right, of course. Emeline, should we invite Livvy over for her birthday?”
Emeline’s head tilts, irritation flashing in her eyes. “Her name is Olivia, Nigel.”
“Emmie,” he murmurs, features scrunching in confusion.
“Nig,” she mocks, leaning forward.
“Honey,” Theodore coaxes. “Perhaps we should take a breath.”
“Oh, stop with the breathing, Theo! Breathing won’t bring Trevor back!” Her gaze shoots around the table. “Don’t fucking look at me!” she snarls, shoving her glass of wine over and knocking Theodore’s water over as well. Liquid splashes across the table.
Chairs scrape back from the table, avoiding the spillage. Emeline’s breaths are steadily coming faster and faster.
“Emeline,” I say softly, “what do you feel?”
She glares at me. “What do I feel?” She stands and leans into my space, one hand on the back of my chair. Her scent is putrid, almost unbearable, but I stay as still as possible and don’t react. “I’m not a fucking science experiment,” she hisses.
“I know, Emeline.” I pause. “This reaction is?—”
Her palm cracks across my face. Pain and heat erupt, but it’s the ache in my chest that hurts the most, because the Emeline I know and love would never hurt me. This isn’t her. Not fully. That sticky note from Trevor set her off.
Nigel and Theodore both shoot to their feet.
“That’s enough, Emeline. Go to your nest and cool off,” Theodore barks.
Emeline slowly turns, violence written across her features, and that in itself is scarier than if she was to start screaming. She resists his bark. The struggle has her steps moving to obey but her torso leaning back.
“Go to your nest,” he commands again.
“No,” she shouts, even as she loses the battle and begins moving toward the back of the house. “Fuck you,” she snarls, jabbing her finger in everyone’s direction. “Fuck you all!”
“Are you okay?” Liam turns my face toward him, forehead wrinkled. “She got you good.” Sawyer, Hayes, and Wilder all crowd around me, forming a protective wall.
“I’ll grab an ice pack,” Nigel says solemnly once the door to the nest slams, rattling the walls.
