ONE
Kady
“Kady?” Delilah, one of my best friends, sounds distant. Her usual sweet, buttery, apple scent has a hint of singe to it, like a pie that’s been cooking in the oven for too long. “What is it?”
The thick paper invitation shakes in my trembling hands. Is this real? The swirling italicized text swims before my eyes.
Mr. Richard Sinclair is delighted to invite you to the wedding of his daughter, Kadence Victoria Sinclair, to the Oakwood Pack.
Delilah gently places a hand on my shoulder, studying my every move. She has a knack for reading people and sensing their moods, her quiet empathy always coming at the cost of putting herself last. We became instant best friends on my first day at Scent Valley University when we were both assigned to Stella House—the best on-campus omega accommodation. But being a Stella is so much more than a housing assignment.
As part of the SVU admission process, all omegas complete a test, using the results to assign us to a house with other omegas based on complementary qualities. Although my Stellasisters and I are all so different, the testing process clearly works because we’ve become a family now.
“It’s…” My head spins, the words managing to escape my lips. “It’s an invitation to my wedding.”
Seated on the private beach outside Faye’s new home, a sudden hush falls over the group, leaving only the distant sound of the lake lapping at the shore. Whatever other conversations were happening end abruptly as every head swivels in our direction.
“Did you say, wedding?” Faye, another of my Stella sisters, asks sharply.
I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. The plate of delicious-looking chocolate chip pancakes beside me makes my stomach churn. This morning was supposed to be a celebration. Faye recently bonded with the Silverwood Pack, and this is the first time we’ve visited her and her alphas at their amazing house on Bonded Beach—a special part of campus reserved exclusively for bonded packs.
Despite the look of concern now on her face, Faye is positively glowing. Pack life suits her. The tension she used to hold in her shoulders has vanished, and she seems so much more comfortable in her own skin. When she first arrived at SVU, she looked like a deer caught in headlights, but meeting her scent matches changed her. She was just as surprised as her alphas to meet them so soon, but she couldn’t have found a better pack.
Damon, Faye’s grumpy alpha, storms back through the house to rejoin us. He just finished escorting Warren—my father’s right-hand man—off the premises. A low growl rumbles in Damon’s chest, a sound heavy with warning as the air around him thickens with a sharp, protective energy. He returns to Faye’s side, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing his cheek against the top of her head. He’s obviously pissed abouthaving an uninvited alpha enter their space, and I don’t blame him. Even at a distance, my father has a way of turning anything good rotten.
I knew that Warren showing up unannounced was a bad omen. He’s worked for my father for decades, spending the majority of that time cleaning up his messes. There’s little that goes on in Richard Sinclair’s life that Warren isn’t privy to, so as soon as I saw him, I knew it wasn’t going to be good.
“Not just any wedding,” I correct Faye, my blanket slipping from my shoulders. “Mywedding.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me!” Sabs, the most outspoken of my friends, jumps up from her chair with enough force that it snaps up behind her like a crocodile’s jaws. “Since when do omegas even get married?”
“I don’t think the matter of omegas having weddings is Kady’s main concern right now,” Ren, Faye’s book-smart alpha, murmurs, his eyebrows lowering.
I have a lot of respect for Ren. He’s quiet, thoughtful, and studies hard, but he isn’t afraid to speak up when he needs to. Earlier this year, he was instrumental in getting Gregory Grub—Faye’s old health botany professor—fired for omega discrimination.
However, Sabs makes a good point. It is unusual for an omega to have aweddingin the same way that beta couples do. Usually, bonding is enough of a commitment declaration. But in old families like mine, there’s always an exception to the rule. In addition to following tradition for tradition’s sake, my father loves any excuse to make a grand spectacle.
Faye’s deep brown eyes widen with worry. “Are you okay, Kady?”
“I’m…” I take a deep breath. “Still processing.”
“Let me take a look.” Delilah pries the invitation from my fingers before I can crush it into a ball. “Maybe there’s been a mistake?”
I let her read it, but there’s been no mistake. This has my controlling father written all over it. Getting him to even agree to let me attend college was hard enough, and now he wants me to throw everything away to get married? Not happening! Although, I can’t say I’m surprised.
My father has outdated views, seeing it as an omega’s duty to bond with a pack, so he’s been setting me up on dates with “eligible” packs all summer. He doesn’t seem to understand that a female omega can function perfectly well on her own and doesn’t need an army of alphas to complete her. EverydateI went on was a disaster, from the pack who spent all their time kissing my father’s ass, to the idiots who kept forgetting my name, to the jerks who asked whether they could measure my hips to see whether they were in peak childbearing condition. None of them asked about my interests, studies, or future plans. To them, I’m just an omega trophy—an object for their arm, a name, and most importantly, the sole heir to the Sinclair dynasty.
I thought I’d get some respite from my father’s matchmaking schemes when I returned to SVU, but obviously, I was wrong.
Delilah looks up from the invitation. “Who is the Oakwood Pack?”
I shiver, picturing Timothy Oakwood’s smug face in my mind’s eye. I imagine him bragging to anyone who will listen about his future bride.
Timothy is the youngest son of an oil baron. I’ve met him a handful of times, and I can only compare him to a slimy toad. He has sweaty palms that cling on for too long during a handshake. Our conversations around stock prices have bored me to tears, and he drops backhanded compliments like bombs. The othertwo moronic alphas in Timothy’s pack are so unmemorable that I can’t recall their names. Though I do remember how they followed Timothy around, mindlessly complying with his commands like simpering drones.
“As in Timothy Oakwood?” From Cole’s tone and the way his expression darkens, it’s clear he knows them. Cole comes from a family similar to mine, and our fathers run in similar circles. The Silverwood Pack leader understands family expectations all too well.
I grimace. “Yep.”
