The woman has the attention of every alpha in the room, along with the waitstaff hanging around.
She goes on, “You already know how tonight will go. If you and your pack are interested in any of the omegas that come tonight, all you need to do is write a valentine and drop it in this box here.” She points to a small pink box situated on the corner of the stage. “At the end of the night, after the omegas leave, my waitstaff will come around with cards for you. It will be up to you whether or not you want to write any. Don’t feel pressured if you didn’t meet the one. And, as I already told the omegas, for anything to progress further, they’ll need to accept your card tomorrow.”
Delilah gives a tight smile to the crowd of alphas. “Everything will work out how it’s supposed to. Even if you don’t meet an omega tonight, even if you write a card and it goes unanswered… you’ll all find your happiness someday, I’m sure of it.”
She claps her hands. “Now, my omegas are here and eager. Should we let them inside?” Her question is met with applause and cheer, and she chuckles. After gesturing for the band to take the stage, she gives a bow of her head.
And then… then the omegas funnel inside the ballroom, and every single alpha snaps to attention.
Chapter Three – Dulcie
I try to hide the fact my hands are shaking as we enter the ballroom. Casey is right by my side, and as we step over the threshold, she takes one of my hands in hers and gives me a comforting squeeze, along with a fast look that’s meant to calm me down and remind me there’s no pressure and everything will be okay.
And I know, it probably will be, but that still doesn’t stop me from being so nervous I want to puke.
The ballroom is chaos after that. The alphas are all sitting down, but their eyes are wide and hungry as we enter as a group. They all sit a little straighter, as if they’re ready to pounce on us. They wouldn’t—Delilah wouldn’t have allowed them entry if they had any history of pouncing on unsuspecting omegas, but the thought lingers in the back of my head.
Us omegas stick close to each other as the band starts to play, and one by one groups of alphas get up and approach, pulling the omega that caught their attention first. I imagine it’ll be like one of those dating shows, where everyone is pulled by everyone else as the night goes on. Casey gets pulled almost immediately, and I take the opportunity to shrink into the remaining omegas, becoming invisible like I’m so used to doing.
Sticking close to the center mass of omega bodies, I’m able to fly under the alphas’ radar. I’m not an omega who likes to step out of her comfort zone, not a girl who preens about her designation like some do. I simply exist, and half the time I wish I am invisible.
Plus, all those alpha scents mixed together? It’s enough to give an omega a headache. Not once in my life did I ever see this many unmatched alphas crowded together in a room. Granted, the room is huge; I can only imagine how overwhelming thehodgepodge of scents would be if we were in a smaller enclosed space.
Once I’m safely tucked away in the center of the remaining omegas, I reach up and run my fingers over the scent glands on either side of my neck. There are other glands in the omega body—namely, one on each inner thigh—but the ones on your neck are the ones most alphas will smell, unless they’re yours and you’re theirs.
Putting my hands over them won’t hide my scent, but I wish it would.
I don’t know how I do it, but I manage to slip through the cracks as the alphas pluck off omegas one by one. When I say it’s chaos, I mean it. Most groups take their chosen omegas to their table, where they sit down and talk. Some go up to dance. Others meander to the long tables of food situated in the far back of the ballroom.
Somehow, someway, I don’t get pulled, my invisibility powers on full blast, and I find myself gravitating toward the food only when there aren’t any alphas around it.
Delilah didn’t play around when she set this whole thing up. A full table has empty plates, bowls, and utensils, along with pink napkins. Three other tables are lined up, covered in food, candy, and dessert—and based on the multitude of waiters running back and forth, I’d say there’s plenty of backup food somewhere. Said waiters are busy bringing drinks to the tables, to the ones so lost in conversation already.
The table that calls to me the most is the one practically overflowing with candy. I instantly spot a large bowl of those little hearts—you know the kind. The ones with silly little sayings, with muted colors, that don’t really taste like anything special but they’re addicting all the same. I’ve only ever had a few at a time; anytime we got donations back when N.O.A. was Solus Academy, the omegas had to split everything.
The bowl full of the heart-shaped candies contain more pieces than I’ve ever seen in my life, and even though I don’t have any pockets to speak of, I start to reach for them, wanting a full handful.
But I stop myself, just barely.
Hmm. Maybe a bowl would come in handy.
My hand drops to my side as I meander to the first table and grab a bowl that is probably meant to be used for a salad or something. My one and only thought is sugar, so right after I pick up that bowl I return to the heart-shaped candies, and I dig in, using the bowl as a scooper of sorts. I fill the entire bowl, and before I step away, I make sure the candy is mounded up.
It’s way too much for little old me, but if I give myself a stomachache from a sugar rush, maybe Delilah will let me leave early or go sit in another room while the rest of the omegas and alphas continue to mingle.
I find a table in the furthest corner of the ballroom, one that’s not currently being taken up by musk-ridden alphas, and sit down with my bowl of candy. I pop one piece in my mouth, a white one, and I immediately chomp down with my teeth, waiting for that explosion of sweet sugar to hit my taste buds.
Only… the exact moment I chew, the sugar doesn’t hit me. I don’t even taste it. Why? Because something else hits me instead, something that might’ve knocked me off my feet if I was still standing.
Though I never smelled anything like it before, my nose can pick out the scent, like magic. Lemongrass, with a hint of mint and just the faintest touch of lavender. A soothing mixture of scents, but one that threatens to set me off just like that.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and even my arms get prickly. My breath catches in my throat, and with a half-chewed piece of candy in my mouth, my gaze shifts to the alpha standing a good twenty feet away from my table.
He’s handsome, like most alphas are. Tall, too. Muscular. A thick mop of brown hair rests on his head, a little messy even though he wears a suit. His eyes are just as dark as his hair, and his gaze is squinted in my direction. His mouth is tugged into a frown, but when we lock eyes, that frown loses its gusto, and suddenly the alpha staring at me looks like a deer in headlights.
Shocked. Confused. Like he doesn’t quite know what’s happening.
But I do. Once Alabaster Security took over Solus Academy, our classes changed. We learned more than just how to be a good omega. We learned about scent matches, something that most of us thought were nothing more than a fairytale—but Mercedes found hers.
