Which brings us here. Now.
Standing in the parking lot of the yoga studio where she works. It's Saturday, so she has three classes and that means she would have been absent all day again. Hiding from us, avoiding the conversation that we need to have.
Her beginner class starts in ten minutes and we have every intention of crashing it.
Court eyes the building, bouncing on his toes, like he can barely keep himself from rushing into the studio.
“You’re sure this is a good idea?” Thayer asks, folding his arms over his chest and watching as a few omegas dressed in workout gear chat and giggle as they enter the studio where our mate has been hiding out since early this morning. “She’s been pretty clear about wanting to keep her classes safe for other omegas.”
“They will be,” Court says. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but I’m only interested in Pixie. I’m not gonna even notice the other omegas.”
“So our plan is what?” Grieves asks, scanning our surroundings, checking for threats like always. “Just walk in and hope she’s too polite to kick us out?”
I snort at that. “She won’t have a problem demanding we leave.” I shift, feeling uncertain. “This place is important to her. Knowing she’s providing a safe place for omegas to center themselves. I’m not sure we should be here.”
“If she really wants us to leave, we will. We’ll wait in the parking lot if we have to. But we can’t keep going like we are,” Forsythe tells me, tells us. “We only have a limited time before we need to get back to Durvain. We can’t spend that time as we have been. It won’t convince her of anything.”
I want to disagree, that the best thing we can do to prove to Florence that we aren’t going anywhere, is tonot go anywhere.To stick around, sleep in her tiny house even though there isn’t enough space for five grown men, let her do what she needs to do and just always… be there. Ready to talk about it when she is.
But our prime isn’t convinced of that.
He’s not content to simply wait.
No matter that he said he is, that he told her we’d be there when she’s ready.
He needs to do--to act--to convince her to return with us to Bravonne, so he can get back to his duties.
I’m fairly certain it’s not the right move for our omega though.
She needs time.
Even still I trail behind them as they make their way across the parking lot and into the studio. The foyer is small, with a wooden counter sitting front and center, a partition wall behind it with openings on either side leading into what I imagine is the actual studio itself. I can hear the low chatter of mostly female voices filtering from the other side.
The air has a slight chemical tinge to it, and I’m sure they're using descenters in the air-con, like most public spaces do these days. But there’s still the faint whiff of sweet omega scents in the air.
The woman at the counter looks up, a smile already in place, brown hair pulled into a ponytail. “Hi. How can I-” Her eyes widen when she sees us, when she realizes who we are.
“Good morning, love,” Court says, swaggering forward and leaning an elbow on the counter. “We’re looking for our mate, Florence.”
She stares at us for a moment, a flush spreading over her cheeks at his grin. “She’s um- She’s through there, your highness.” And then she lifts her voice and shouts toward the back of the studio. “Ren! You have visitors.”
All conversation on the other side of the wall cuts off.
“Into the breach,” Thayer mutters, before leading the way past the desk and into the studio, where our mate is standing surrounded by athleisure clad omegas.
“No,” she hisses, stomping over to us and looking far too beautiful for her own good. For my own good too. Her finger jerks up pointing at all of us. “No. Absolutely not. This is an omegas only class. You are not omegas.”
Court gives her his most charming smile. “We are most certainly not. But we promise to behave. We won’t spend the session staring at the other omegas. We promise to only stare at you.”
Ren rolls her eyes, but her cheeks go slightly pink.
“Maybe we can ask your other students if they mind?” Thayer asks, sounding like he already knows they’re going to say they don’t. When I glance over at the omegas crowded on the other side of the room, I can see that he’s right.
Every last one of them is eyeing us eagerly. Not like they want to make a play for us, but like they’re salivating at the thought of tearing into us. I can’t even blame them for it.
“You’ve been avoiding us,cor mea,” Forsythe says. “We need to talk.”
Ren gives her head a sharp shake. “This is not the time or the place, Your Highness.” I watch as his jaw ticks at her use of his title. “This is myjob. And you being here is only going to fuck up one of the few good things I have left.”
