“Tell me why you’re considering not going on the show.”
“I don’t think it's the kind of place where I would actually find love. And the Royal pack of Bravonne? Really? Me? I don’t even know what they were thinking of putting me on that season. I’m so far below a princess it's not even funny.”
“Not true,” Haven says, fiercely. I slide a plate of cookies in her direction and she picks one up, munching it angrily. “You are not belowanyone, Ren. You are the absolute tops. The bees knees.” Hale and I exchange a look. Haven has recently got into a TV drama based in the 1920s, and she’s been talking like a caricature of a booze runner ever since. “Also, I’ve always said you look like a cartoon princess!” She motions at me with her half eaten cookie. “Don’t you think so, Hale?”
“Ren is very pretty,” he agrees.
What he means is, ‘Ren is pretty enough but no one compares to you my lovely, beautiful omega.’ I’ve gotten really good at reading between the lines of alpha speak. Particularly in the Calloway pack.
Haven beams at him, like he just paid me the biggest compliment, and then looks back at me. “Come on, bitch, you know you’re gorgeous. All that blond hair. Those freckles, the kaleidoscope eyes! Anyone who is into females will agree with that. And your body is banging. Don’t you think so, Hale?”
Hale and I both wince. “No, Haven,” I say gently, shaking my head. “Don’t say things like that. Please… it’s just so wrong.”
She bristles. “What? Why? It’s true. You have such a hot bod.”
“I’m not denying it.” I used to be in better shape than I am now, hours of dancing every day made me lithe and lean. Since my knee shattered, I’ve been teaching yoga to omegas three times a week and have recently started trying to dance again. Not professionally, just for myself. But its… hard. Two years of not doing it, makes it difficult to pick up again.
But the result is that I’m no longer all lean muscle. I’ve put on weight, mostly in my boobs and butt—omega genetics—but also in my stomach and thighs. The result is that I’m now curvy as hell, which is something that most alphas look for in an omega.
I know physically, I look like the ideal omega. But mentally and emotionally, I’m still all fucked up. I’m not sure I could handle going on the show, being compared to countless other omegas, meeting the most famous pack in the world. I’ve watched the show enough with Haven to know that the producers look for someone to paint as a manipulative asshole through the show, and I really wouldn’t want it to be me.
I don’t think I could handle the public hate, random strangers trolling me online, or in person.
Haven sighs, likely seeing every one of my thoughts scrolling over my face. “Okay,” she says gently. “You don’t have to go. But just think about it okay? Don’t send the refusal right away.”
I wrinkle my nose, because I had been planning on refusing as soon as she and Hale left. “No promises.”
“Yes, promises,” Haven presses. And then she gives me this look that makes my stomach clench in anxiety. She’s about to lay a truth bomb at my feet, set a timer and then walk away. “Ren, you need to dosomething. You aren’t-you aren’t yourself anymore. And don’t get me wrong I get it, I understand whyyou’re struggling. We all do. But all of us need you to come back to yourself a bit more. Just a bit.” She pushes off the stool and comes to take my hand in hers, lacing our fingers together. “You’re my sunshine girl. The light of my life for so long. And it's so hard for me to watch you struggle and do nothing. And I think… I think what you're doing now isn’t enough. You’re surviving, Ren. Not thriving.”
She reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Going on the show, it probably won’t be the answer. As much as I would love for you to become an actual princess, I know it's unlikely. And not because you’re not wonderful, but because I’m convinced the show is rigged.”
“Still stuck on season seven?”
Her pretty face folds into a scowl. “The Reachers were so in love with Karli it wasn’t even funny. But Rachel was the fan favorite. So now she’s Rachel Reacher and that is so unfortunate.”
I tilt my head. “I actually think I read somewhere they didn’t bond.”
Haven points one finger at me menacingly. “Stop trying to distract me. My point is that you need to do something different. Think of this as a vacation, like Jude said. You can just go and be, and meet new people, and meet princes and get a tan, and then you can come back. And we’ll figure out the next step.”
The next step is likely going to a scent clinic and trying to match with other packs.
Haven is trying to help. I know she is. But she doesn’t understand that the thought of being around unbonded alphas… terrifies me. Hell, even bonded ones I don’t know scare me.
I can’t tell her because it's her father’s fault. Which she’ll take to mean it's her fault.
But I can still feel the weight of Frederick Bell’s alpha commands. The way he took control of my body. How I was unable to fight. To resist.
The idea of anyone doing that to me again makes a well of panic open in my chest.
My therapist says in order to work through it, I need to expose myself to unknown alphas. But I haven’t been able to convince myself to do that yet, not beyond the customers that come into the bank. Brief interactions that only last a few minutes and then they’re gone.
So I nod. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I’ll think about it okay? I’ll give it a few days and then send my response. They gave me until Friday.”
Haven squeals and claps her hands, before throwing her arms around me and squeezing tight. “I’m so excited for you. And jealous. So jealous.”
“Why might that be, little mouse?” Hale drawls, book held open in his giant hand.
“She’s meetingprinces, Hale! Real life princes. It's just very fairytale-esque, you know?” Her alpha makes an unimpressed sound that I can’t help but mimic.
