Eloise hasn’t taken this leap yet. Depending on how today goes, maybe she never will.
“It’s something, yeah.” I glance at a few again. “I’m excited. And proud of course. But somehow this is scarier than Omega Selection Day.” I was so sure of myself that day, and am sure of myself now. Both involve putting myself on display in one way or another. Butthis… art is soul-deep. This is different.
Eloise hugs me. “You’re going to do amazing, and I’ll make sure no one ruins it.”
“Thank you.” I squeeze her tightly. Eloise has seen me through everything, and I’ve always done the same for her.
Eloise pulls back and swipes a tear from her eye. “All right. Enough sentiment. We’ve got to stop that before I happy cry all my makeup off.”
“Right.” It’s no use, though, because now I’m wiping a tear away, too.
Eloise’s phone goes off. She checks it and grins up at me. “You’re not going to believe this.”
She doesn’tlookconcerned, so I choose to believe this is good news. “What?”
Eloise flips her phone around to show me a photo. “Your parents just sent me this. There’s a huge line outside.”
My jaw drops as I taken in the sight of at least a hundred people just outside the building. “How? I mean…What?”
Eloise lets out an excited noise. “Let’s get this party started!” She claps once and runs for the front doors.
When the doors open, the crowd surges in like a tidal wave. The noise is immediate and overwhelming—a million voices, a forest of hands pointing at the walls, the music turned up to “party” even though it’s just ambient synth and a singer who sounds like she’s dying of heartbreak.
My alphas are some of the first in line. They immediately make way for me and embrace me one by one. Bastion is dressed in a fitted gray suit and his hair is styled wildly. Wyatt is wearing a simple black suit. He’s got a fidget toy of some sort in the hand he used it always carry his cell phone in. Ranier keeps an arm around my side. He his tailored black suit has blue lines running in designs along every length in the same color as the blue in my hair.
Ranier grins from ear to ear. “You look stunning.”
“So does your work,” Wyatt adds before kissing my cheek.
“You and Eloise did an amazing job setting this up.” Bastion, for the first time ever, looksbashful.
I giggle and hug Bastion tight. “Thank you. This is everything I’ve dreamed of for my debut art exhibition.”
“I hope it won’t be the last,” Wyatt says earnestly. “I know… I know what I’ve said in the past, but that was Idiot Wyatt talking. Your work is truly incredible.”
“Well, I loved Idiot Wyatt, too,” I admit.
But we don’t get much longer before attendees approach to talk about my art and, to my surprise, future in the art industry.Everyone is polite, even the journalists who show up, but it doesn’t take me long to find out that more than a few of these guests were invited by Bastion himself.
I catch his eye over the crowd at one point and smile, my head tilted slightly.You invited them all one by one?
He must somehow understand because he just shrugs lightly with a grin on his face and walks away. As if he’d never admit to it, but he’s proud nonetheless.
Everhart Pack is more than I ever could have dreamed of. Even with the rocky start. But honestly, with every passing minute since the holiday shelter event, I’m starting to replace every rocky memory with a shiny, wholesome new one that I never want to let go of.
My parents arrive at some point, but it’s not until an hour in that I’m able to find and talk to them. My father is in a checked shirt with a tie that might be older than I am, and my mother is wearing a nice purple dress and a cardigan, her hair down for once. They both look stunned, standing near the entrance like the world has shifted under their feet. I watch them walk the room, pausing at every piece, my mom reading the wall tags out loud and my dad taking slow, methodical phone pictures of every painting like it’s the only way he’ll remember I was here.
They don’t see me at first, which gives me time to get my own nerves in order. Then I circle around and approach from the side.
“Hey.”
My mom sees me, and the dam breaks. She hugs me so hard it hurts, whispering “we’re so proud” and “your dad cried in the car, don’t let him deny it.” My dad does not deny it. He just hugs me, too, and then steps back to wipe his face with the palm of his hand.
For a minute, I am five years old again and showing them some crayon drawing.
I show them my favorite painting—a nest made out of blue and gold thread, with three wolves curled together at the center. My mom traces the lines of the wolves, eyes bright.
They make the circuit of the gallery with me, meeting Eloise and even talking to Wyatt, who turns the charm to max and gets my mom to laugh out loud within sixty seconds. Ranier hovers nearby, occasionally making eye contact with my dad and then looking away like he’s worried what’s transpired has forever made an impact. Bastion introduces himself with a firm handshake and roguish smile.
