Ollena smiles. “Good. It’s very formal, I know. I’ll give you a few minutes to compose yourself. When you’re ready, please exit through the curtain. Your father may escort you to your position, but he then must return to his seat.”
She waits for me to nod, before she disappears through the billowing curtain. Noise filters through, the chatting and laughter of Navarre society settling in to view the first of my Trials. I’ve never attended one, but many consider them opportunities for networking.
When I stand up, my dad walks around to face me. He lifts my hand, kissing it just like he did when I was a kid, playing princesses and demanding he be my knight in shining armor.
“I have never been so proud to be your father,” he says softly. “And remember what I said. You always have a home with us, sweetheart. No matter what.”
My eyes burn, but I swallow back the tears. “Thanks, dad.”
Bracing myself, I turn and walk towards the curtain, my dad next to me.
Today is the first day of the rest of my life.
And my Soul Bonded are on the other side. Probably.
15
TRISTAN
Our pack stands shoulder to shoulder, all four of us gathered at the end of the aisle leading up to the circular area where we’ll complete the first Trial. White curtains flutter in the light breeze where our mate will soon make her appearance.
She has no idea what’s in store for her.
The light blue carpeted aisle, littered with white flower petals, stretches out in front of us, surrounded on both sides by rows and rows of chairs, all filled with simpering, laughing people, all here to watch the latest Trials kick off. One group is more subdued as they make their way to a few chairs set aside in the front row.
Jax nudges me. “Think those are the in-laws?” he mutters.
I don’t respond, but my eyes flick to the blonde-haired, still beautiful omega, and the younger girl she escorts protectively, an arm around her shoulders. They’re followed by another omega with wild bronzed ringlets, who’d probably be the same age as our mate.
All of their eyes turn to us, taking us in with serious looks.
Definitely family.
I turn my eyes from them. They won’t be our family. No matter how much I wish otherwise. Although, with our Soul Bonded out there somewhere according to Jax, this whole thing might just turn out to be a blessing in disguise. For us and Sienna Michaels.
There’s a swell of murmuring and shocked looks, and I close my eyes as a familiar simper fills the air.
“Fucking hell,” Gray mutters, and I crack them open to watch Alicia forcing herself down into the front row seat left open for her by Erikkson. His eyes are on me, filled with gleaming, oily satisfaction as his daughter whips off her cloak, unveiling the full fucking white blancmange monstrosity she’s chosen to wear. Gasps ring out across the room, people craning their heads to get a good look.
The omega that walked in with the Michaels family leans forward, her mouth moving as she gestures. The blonde-haired omega says something back to her, not even looking in Alicia’s direction, and the omega grits her teeth, throwing her bronze hair back in a huff as she follows Sienna’s mothers lead and faces the circle.
This whole thing is a fucking farce. I’m just sorry they’re caught in the middle of it.
There’s movement ahead of us, and my muscles tighten as Ollena Hayward emerges from behind the curtain. She walks up to a podium, her arms opening wide as she addresses the crowd.
“Good afternoon, Navarre,” she announces. “And welcome to the Bonding Trials. Today, we welcome the members of the Cohen pack, and one Sienna Michaels, to participate in their first Trial. The scent matching trial is performed in front of family and friends, to cement the bond that will hold true throughout their journey together.”
Alicia simpers, a high-pitched, wheezing sound that makes a few heads turn. Ignoring her, I keep my eyes on the circle.
“I call upon Sienna Michaels,” Ollena calls. “To join the circle and take her first steps towards becoming a Bonded omega.”
The curtain moves, a pale hand separating the panels.
My whole body locks up as Sienna Michaels emerges from behind the curtain, her hands white where they hold her father’s arm.
Beside me, Jax inhales sharply. “Tristan.”
His voice is agonized. And I get it immediately, the same, potent fury washing through me as I take Sienna Michaels in. Her beautiful, elegant white lace dress hugs perfectly shaped curves as she kisses her father on the cheek, and he steps down to sit next to her mother.
