Page 90 of The Omega's Alpha
“April 4
“Hyland returned, late at night, after even Galan was asleep. He woke me from my restless slumber and drew me out to the front room. We sat in front of the fire and he held me. And what he told me… I can’t. Maybe tomorrow I can commit these evil words to paper, but tonight I will comfort my mate, for his work now begins in earnest, and I am afraid.”
My voice crackedon those last words and the urge to go home twisted inside me like bane fever. What was the point of my being here? Would it truly make any difference or was I just wasting everyone’s time, when I could be home, looking after my mate as an omega was meant to do?
“You know what happens next, don’t you?” Laine said quietly. The mattress dipped beneath my hip and he reached out to gently touch the pages blurring in front of me.
“Yes.” I filled my lungs to bursting and blinked away the useless tears. “This isn’t a novel. It’s the story of my people. Of Garrick’s people. We know it intimately.” I laughed, but it was a dark thing. “Why?”
“Would you tell me? I only know the two pages they dedicated to it in my high school history course. If law has taught me one thing, it’s that there’s always more to the story, and that truth is not always what the winners say it is.”
I stared at him, trying to read his face, his expression. Without thinking, I parted my lips and sucked in a mouthful of air, testing his scent. I’d thought I’d sated his curiosity over our meal, but looking at him, smelling him, I realized that it was he who had sated me, leading me to the place where he could ask this question and feel it would be answered truthfully. It gave me a new respect for him. Not only for his curiosity and desire to learn about us, but for his ability to manipulate. Which was a fang that could work to our advantage, if we were careful to keep body parts out of his mouth.
Turning away from him, I smoothed out the pages of the journal in my lap. “Where would you like me to start?”
He got off the bed and went to the desk on the far side of the room, where a bottle of wine and two water glasses sat waiting. “Why not tell me what your people see as the reason you were put behind walls?” He poured the wine out and brought a glass to me. “And we can go from there.”
Chapter Seventy-Three
The makeup brushwhisking over my face tickled my nose and I wrinkled it to stop the sneeze threatening to undo all the effort being put in to make me look less tired than I actually was. Laine and I had been up half the night talking. The human didn’t miss a detail and a couple of times I asked him if I was under suspicion of some crime, pulling the words from memory of a TV show I’d once watched.
The smell of the powder covered up all the varied, interesting scents of the building where the show was being filmed, which disappointed me. It had been fascinating walking through the halls and rooms, scenting the history of the place. It smelled of electricity and excitement, cloth and perfume and intensity. I liked it.
“There, you’re almost done,” the lady who had applied my makeup said. Her fingers combed through my hair, which had already been seen to by another woman, and pulled the ends over my shoulders. “The ladies are going to love you.”
“Thank you.” I glanced at myself in the mirror, still vaguely startled by the difference. Not that I didn’t look like me—I did—just that I seemed to be more me. Automatically, my hand went to the base of my throat, where a heavy gold necklace hung around my neck, my tabs cunningly attached so they looked like part of the jewelry. I’d burst out laughing when the package had arrived that morning and I’d seen what was inside.Make sure you drop the jeweler’s name, had read Martin’s note.We’ll make it fashionable.And underneath he’d written the name of the man who was supplying the jewelry for Martin’s next show. He’d also sent clothing, a midnight blue shirt embroidered in paler blue and yellow, that he’d obviously tailored to my measurements because it fit perfectly. I looked like someone else. And yet, not. This was perhaps not who I was, but who I was growing into. Alpha’s Mate.
A middle-aged man leaned in the door. “Five minutes,” he said, holding up a hand with all five fingers spread in silent emphasis.
“I’m done,” she said, and stripped away the stiff tissues protecting my collar. “You can take him now.”
“Great.” The man held out his hand. “I’m Troy. I’m the stage manager’s assistant. If you’ll follow me, we’re just setting up for your interview.” He scanned my outfit as we left the room and dodged our way down a narrow hallway. “A little dark, but it looks good on you. I’ll let the lighting guys know.” We stopped at the edge of the stage. It was dim where we were, only a few lights here and there, but the stage shone like the sun. I saw the chairs, soft cream cloth with wide arms and deep seats, and the brass-and-glass table in front of them. Beyond that roamed cameras, huge and black like giant eyes, and beyond that—the audience.
My breath caught and my heart stuttered in my chest. I’d been told there’d be people here to watch, but it was only now that Iknewit.I can’t do this.But as swiftly as the words flew through my mind, the wolf that made up the other half of my soul hunted them down like stupid, fat pigeons, and ate them. I smiled slightly at the thought, and then was jolted out of my reverie by a hand on my arm.
“Ready?”
I nodded.
Troy smiled at me. “Good. You’ll be fine. She’s very excited to meet you.”
“I’ll do my best,” I promised him, and then I heard my name in the midst of the introduction they’d okayed with me.
“And, go,” Troy said and pushed me toward the stage.
Right. I widened my smile and stepped out into the light, using my model’s walk, taking strides that showed off my height and the length of my legs. As I approached, Belinda held out her hand and I reached out to shake it.
“Welcome, Holland, I’m so glad you could join me,” she said. I liked her voice. It had a resonance which the television stripped away but that beat pleasantly against my eardrums in person.
“I’m very glad to be here. I enjoy your show,” I replied, and sat when she did.
“So, Holland. I saw video of the fashion show back in June. You looked amazing.” She laughed and leaned conspiratorially toward me. “And, can I just ask? What was it that made you smile like that, right at the end?” She sat back. “The girls in the office here justswoonedand I think they wore out the file playing that part over and over again.”
I laughed as well, and crossed my legs to tip my torso toward her. “My mate was in the audience. I have to admit, I was teasing him a little.”
She turned a wide smile toward the audience. “So there you have it, ladies. He’s already taken, so you can put your panties away.”
That unexpected comment, and the audience’s laughter that came right after, sent a rush of blood up into my cheeks, but what could I do but laugh along? After all, it was true that I was taken. And also true, that a few inappropriate gifts had come my way in the interim.
