Good Girl by Sam Hall
Chapter 38
I carried that same sense of certainty with me when we walked into the Omega Ball. The grand ballroom was, as always, beautiful, having been transformed by the ball committee from a glorious confection of icy white Neoclassical architecture, complete with marble Corinthian columns, into a wonderland. I wasn’t sure what had actually been going down in ancient Greece, but apparently topiary, filmy lengths of tulle, and showers of gold glitter were in order. We walked up the broad steps and into the building as a team.
“So what exactly are we doing tonight?” I asked. “What’s the plan again? We’ve changed it so often.”
“Avoid my father,” Orion said, straightening his tie, properly tied this time, “and when that’s not possible, show him the mating marks and hope that’s enough to fuck him off. And run interference for Ari. I don’t want any of these greasy fucks near her. She shouldn’t even be out at functions yet.”
“And wait for whatever Marcus has planned.” Rhys eyed the building suspiciously, which, with his hair pulled back into a rough ponytail and the sharp suit, just made him look all the hotter.
“I guess we have to trust, don’t we?” I said, full of goodwill for all mankind right now. Getting marked and mated seemed to do that, especially when there was no horrible reveal twenty-four hours later. “He’s a manipulative fuck and I’m going to kick his arse when I see him, but Marcus hasn’t steered us wrong yet.”
“Really? Well, that sounds delicious.”
We all spun around to see the man himself strolling up, looking us up and down slowly. He looked pretty damn fine himself, buttoning his jacket and smoothing his hands down the sides.
“Hello, darling, you look positively edible.”
I wasn’t sure who he meant, as each one of the boys looked freaking gorgeous, but he swept in, taking my hand and kissing the knuckles, his eyes twinkling as he heard my mates start to growl.
“Good instincts,” he said, reaching over and flicking invisible lint from Bren’s jacket, only for him to grab Marcus by the wrist.
“Don’t you think it’s time to fill us in on your grand plan?”
The smile faded, and for a second, Marcus looked impossibly young, a flashback to the golden youth in the forest, but this one was weighed down by the world’s problems, some of that omnipresent certainty gone. Then his eyes dropped down to where Bren gripped him, softening perceptibly.
“I can’t. Plausible deniability is a key component to what will shield you, and I’m going for that, not protecting your feelings, I’m afraid. I played this over and over in my head, but I couldn’t find another way, Brendan, so this is how it needs to go. You’re armed?”
“Of course,” Bren replied, almost offended.
“Stay on Cyn like flies on shit. It won’t help. He’ll get to her somehow, I know it. I just can’t work out how yet. Drugs, maybe…?” Marcus frowned, as if his mind was working in overdrive. “His manipulations of Ariadne suggest that’s his preferred modus operandi, but with that comes traces of chemicals in people’s systems that can be traced back.” He shook his head. “But showing a united front now, that’s what’s important. Stay together, protect Cyn. We are always strongest when we work as a pack.”
And like some inscrutable Wizard of Oz figure, he led us deeper into the Omega Ball.
“Cyn, sweets!”George swanned over, a glass of champagne in each hand, one handed to me. “You look stunning.”
“You should taste that first,” Marcus said to Orion.
Both George and my mate frowned, but Orion took my hand and raised the glass to his lips.
“Tastes like the usual Moët bullshit they serve every year.”
“Can’t be too careful,” Marcus replied, that same smug tone back.
“Careful? What the hell’s going on now?” George spluttered, moving towards me.
“Nothing. We’re going to circulate as a pack. See and be seen. I’m going to dance with every one of my mates, have some food, and then see what the night holds. You, my dear chaperone, are free tonight to enjoy yourself as you see fit, on Miranda’s dime, of course,” Marcus replied blithely.
“Miranda? I haven’t been able to get through to her since yesterday.”
“Well, try now,” Marcus suggested, George doing that with a frown, an expression that lifted when someone answered his call.
“Mum?” I said as Marcus steered us deeper into the ballroom, the massive dome opening up above us, complete with well lit, mural covered ceiling. “She’s OK? Can I talk to her?”
“She’s very well, and I’ll have to insist on the last bit once this is over. She’s become very insistent. I had her trust right up until now. But let’s dance.” Marcus drew us to a stop on the fringes of the dance floor, studying me like he’d only just seen me for the first time, his fingers trailing down my neck to trace the collar of purple faux tanzanites there. “Someone as beautiful as you can’t stand on the outskirts of a ball like a wallflower.”
All the mocking tone was gone, and suddenly, Marcus was as honest as he ever could be. His eyes followed the trail of his fingers until he was forced to snatch them back.
“Dance with me, just once, omega.” The word was delivered as a sigh this time, his brows knitting, as if it pained him somehow. “Just once, and I’ll die a happy man.”
“You want to use her as bait,” Orion said with a scowl.
“Perhaps. Or maybe I agreed with the spirit of your plan, if not the letter.” He grabbed my hands, setting our pose expertly, before stepping out onto the floor.
I feltlike my head was swirling as fast as my body was as we waltzed around the room. Marcus was an expert dancer, leading me through the steps at the perfect pace, never at risk of treading on my feet as occasionally I was his. For unmated omegas, this was an opportunity to present yourself to the alphas collected, let them see your dress and your figure, your grace and beauty, as you moved through the ancient dance steps. But I had a bow banging lightly against my shoulder blades that spoke of a different purpose.
“What are you doing here, Marcus?”
His eyes flicked down to meet mine, watching for just a moment, never missing a step. Then they dropped down to focus on my lips.
“I don’t often lie, not unless I absolutely have to,” he replied. “Whatever I could tell you, I have. It just doesn’t happen to be a lot. I promise by this time tomorrow, you will know everything. Every detail, every plan, far more than what you’ll actually want, but I’ll tell you all of it. Can you give me until then to just enjoy my mates, my pretty little omega?”
“Not omega. Cyn.”
“Not until I’ve earned it, correct? Well, I’ll do my best. Now let’s move a little closer to the centre of the room. Rhys, the bastard is about to come and cut in.”
But we evaded his presence, swanning by in big swoops, deftly navigating the congested dancefloor, the number of dancers forcing Rhys back again. Then the music changed into something slower, sweeter, Marcus pulling me close, one hand on the small of my back as we swayed together.
“Just this, Cyn. Just give me this.”
Such wasthe spell of Marcus. Rhys did come to cut in, but Marcus deliberately misunderstood his purpose.
“Come to slow dance with me, my love?” he said, moving into the big man’s arms, tucking his head in against Rhys’ shoulder. “It has been a bloody long time since we’ve done this.”
But all of Rhys’ bluster fizzled the moment that golden head came to rest against his body. A hand went up, cradling him, where before, it had been clenched in anger, something that only softened as Marcus wrapped his arms around his mate. They swayed now, only barely moving to the music, but I wasn’t left to gawp after them for long. Bren arrived, pulling me into a similar embrace, looking down at me almost shyly before brushing a finger against the bite mark on my neck. He smiled when I shivered, all his discomfort at being at such a fancy arse ball gone, then swept me out onto the dancefloor.
I was quite frankly shocked at how competent Bren was at ballroom dancing, something that made him smirk.
“Marcus made us take a bunch of classes to stop us from embarrassing Orion at events. Dancing with fine-looking women could be a distraction or a means to gather intel at times.”
“Yeah, that’s gonna stop now,” I all but growled.
His smile was bright and intense in response. “Jealous, omega?”
“Your only omega,” I said. “I get you’ve got this whole polyamory thing going, but—”
“You don’t need to worry.” Bren stared down at me intensely, his smile faltering. “There’s only you for us. It’s gonna be hard work, particularly when you come into heat. That’s four rigid dicks that’ll be aching to be inside you.” The smirk was back, and twice as mischievous. “We need to start upping your cardio and strength training, get you ready for it.”
He watched me pull my hand away, wiping my brow with the back of it with close attention.
“Could it be soon?” he asked, much more seriously.
“Maybe?” I looked up at him, dropping the social mask for just a moment, letting him see the low simmering need for him and our mates there. “Everything before was a mess. I’ve only experienced a heat alone.”
“Because you’re ours,” he said, eminently satisfied with that. “Always meant to be with us. Always will.”
I smiled up at him and nodded. “Always.”
“So I think it’s my turn to take our mate for a spin,” Orion said, appearing at Bren’s shoulder. “Marcus is looking for a new dance partner, and you’re up.” But he paused when he looked me over more closely. “You look a little flushed, Cyn.”
“Don’t worry,” I replied, slipping from Brendan’s arms to his, our bodies slotting together in that same innate way. “It’s just the lights and the frock.”
“I only have to make it around the room with Marcus once, right?” Brendan grumbled, eyes narrowing. “I still haven’t forgiven him for this bullshit.”
“None of us have, but we’re not airing our dirty laundry here, where my father and his cronies can seek to exploit it. We provide a united front, so go and get our mournful-looking mate from the sidelines and sweep him around the room, looking like a picture of alpha mated bliss.”
“United front, got it.”
As I watched Bren weave his way through the dancers, a wolf among brightly coloured sheep, I was then led around the floor by a very adept Orion. Many years of dance training would have been in his upbringing. He challenged me by performing a series of intricate steps, expecting me to keep up, and I did, just.
“And what were you talking about with our mate to get you all flushed, omega?” he purred, right as I fought to keep track of our feet, which was why I blurted out my answer so bluntly.
“My heat,” I replied, Orion’s steps faltering and mine with them. He quickly moved us out of the way of other dancers, but not relinquishing his hold on my waist for a second, so even through the layers of fabric of my dress, I could feel him hardening.
“Is it coming soon? Are you feeling the effects now?” His eyes were intent, a harsh vigilance rising there. “Cyn, if you are, I’ll get us home right away. This is the worst place for an omega in heat to be.”
“I’m fine, just feeling a little hot from all that dancing. Maybe we could find somewhere to sit and cool down for a bit? And anyway, we can’t leave. Have you see Ariadne at all? Isn’t she supposed to present herself if she’s declared as an omega? She’s way too bloody young, but I don’t think they make an allowance for that in the laws, just that she can’t be touched sexually until she’s eighteen.”
“I haven’t, which worries me. Our people are on an alert to find her, but…”
He glanced around the room, as if she would appear, then steered me over towards one of the spindly little tables and chairs, pulling one out so I could sit down.
“Just stay here and I’ll get you a drink,” he said a little sternly. My eyes rolled upwards, my eyebrow arching. “Look, I know we’re in public and there’s a million witnesses here, but I still don’t trust this. Promise me, Cyn, that you won’t move from this chair.”
“I’m not moving, just sweating in a really, really ladylike fashion, OK?”
Orion smiled, and I couldn’t stop staring as a result. At some point, we’d get used to each other’s responses, but today wasn’t that day. I reached up, pulling him down for a kiss, because it would reassure his dad when his cronies were heard talking about the public displays of affection between us, and because Orion. He pulled away reluctantly.
“I’ll only be a minute.”
“And I’ll be right here,” I replied.
We were wrong, of course. Orion was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it was just about to. He strode over to the bar with all that lord of the manor shit he rocked unconsciously, and dancers parted for him, but not people at the bar. It was several ball goers deep when he got there, looking impatiently over the tops of people’s heads.
It was OK, I was just going to sit here and wonder if hand fans could be brought back in vogue, because damn, I was feeling hot. My skin was clammy and sweat pricked everywhere, which should have been my first warning. The second came when I looked across the room, down the long corridors of the ballroom.
I’d walked one of those, when Benson commanded me into one of the many rooms that branched off from them. The offices of the Omega Institute, they were often repurposed as places for lover’s trysts.
Or sexual assaults. Like then. Like now.
It was like suspense movie 101. I saw her, Ariadne, being hustled across the parquet floors, the hand of a big strong alpha wrapped around her upper arm. She looked over her shoulder, a picture of reluctance, desperately searching for someone to help, but her mouth never opened. People always ask that, why didn’t I call out, make a fuss, get someone’s attention, but that wasn’t how it works. We’re socially groomed to be complicit in our own sexual assaults, to help use guilt to silence us. I was up and out of my chair as soon as I saw her, walking towards the bar, but a barrage of dancers brushed past, making it impossible for me to get to Orion.
Or did it? As soon as I stood, a wave of heat washed over me, making my vision swim. So I took the easiest possible route, walking around the dancefloor and down the corridor after them.
Too stupid to live, that was what they called those horror movie heroines who blundered into the darkened room when the lights didn’t work, and I was a perfect example of that.
“Ariadne?” I called out, my voice ringing out clearly now that I’d stepped away from the main throng. People looked at me as I passed, but I walked quickly, then ran down the corridor, right up until she was dragged into the room. It wasn’t Benson doing the dirty work, but the man had the same patrician features and impeccably tailored formal wear that made me think he was just a stand-in for him—a stand-in who might be a whole lot more successful than Benson had been. I ran towards the door, my hands wrapping around it. I didn’t check my surroundings, didn’t keep my awareness on what was going on around me, my heart beat smashing in my chest in a rapid tattoo as it all came back.
“Such a good little omega. You want to please me, don’t you?”
The unctuous slide of his voice against my skin, the feel of his fingers. It was almost as if Benson was right here as I tugged and twisted at the doorknob like a mad person.
Because he was. A hand landed on my shoulder, heavier than before, my body feeling like lead now. Drugged drinks, I thought dimly as I began to sway on my feet, blinking madly. My hands slapped clumsily at my dress, searching for my knife sheaths, but he did the job for me, rucking up my skirts and removing them neatly.
“Tsk, tsk. No mate of my son’s should go around armed. I guess it’s just as well this will go down as one of the shortest matings in history.”
I heard the sounds of the knives thrown to the ground, then my guts lurched as he dragged my hands behind my back, holding both my wrists with one hand as he unlocked the door with his other one.
“No unwanted interruptions this time,” Benson growled out and then shoved me inside.