I whip my head towards Lorelei Sol, as does almost everyone in the room. No, this cannot be happening.
Imogen starts to laugh, but Sofia isn’t laughing.
“What do you mean you found me a splendid match?”
“The most perfect match. It’s going to be great. Just you wait.”
A protest rises in my chest, but I swallow it down, unsure if I can even voice it here. Devon’s lost his smile, and even Mack doesn’t look thrilled.
“Who?” Imogen shouts, casting a sly look at me.
It’s an open secret that we all had a thing for her. I’m not sure how many people know, but I think it would be easier to find out how many people don’t.
“It’s a surprise. She will find out tomorrow.”
“No, I will not. I'm not doing it.”
“Does that pack have a claim on you?” her mother asks.
I whip my head in her direction, noticing the red stain on her cheeks, the way she looks down and fidgets. “Well, no. I, uh, don’t have a pack.”
I feel an urge to break out into a dance and wisely refrain.
“Then what’s a couple of dates for Valentine’s going to hurt?”
“Just a couple of dates?”
“Just three dates. You get to dress up, feel good, get treated like an omega princess, and flirt. It’s just a bit of fun, and if it turns to more, isn’t that wonderful?”
I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.
Chapter 4
Sofia
No amount of overthinking is going to change anything. In my bedroom, across the hallway, literally four feet from my borrowed room, is my first crush, who is bonded with my first boyfriend and my first kiss.
In my wildest fantasies, and I had a freaking lot of them, I could never have pictured a scenario like this.
This cannot be happening. I throw myself on the bed and scream into my pillow, but it doesn’t make me feel any better at all.
My stomach jolts, and I sit up, rummaging through my handbag again, hoping I will come up with a suppressant that can push back my heat. I come up empty and flop back on the bed. It’s comfy; all the beds in this house are, and it smells like home. Still, last night while I’d expected to spend the entire night awake, instead, for the first time in years, probably since I left, my head hit the pillow, and I slept dreamlessly.
My door opens, and I sit up clutching the comforter because, in my most secret heart, I kinda hope it’s one of them. Mum just bustles in, humming. The level of disappointment I’m experiencing is telling. I want to lick them, up and down and look at all the differences again. They are so much more than they were.
“Morning, my eldest daughter,” she sings. “Time to get up; we’re pack making today.”
A tiny flicker of rage burns through me at another omega entering my space, and it turns my scent a little scorched, but I shove it away. Pack making? Ugh, the stupid dating thing.
My apprehension morphs into something with a little bit more bite. I scramble out of bed, ready to put a stop to this nonsense.
“Now, Mum, I know we talked about this, but, truly, I don’t need a pack to be happy-”
She turns, giving me that mum eye. “I could believe that of anyone else, but you, child of my heart, dreamed of a big family. You wanted to live on the plot of land next door, build a big house and have huge, massive outdoor parties with the whole family and town.”
“That was before, when I was like eight,” I mutter. “I’m freaking grown up and experienced now.”
“I know that dream is still in there. I know you. You’re home, relax, heal, be happy.”
