"She pushed me out the door and locked it. Said I needed to be here for Roan because he's always been here for us."
I laugh and point to his glass. "This explains the foul mood." He doesn't respond other than to narrow his eyes.
Star's mother catches me watching and gives me a wide, bright smile—the same one Star has, that outshines the sun. She's been at Liam's side all evening. Our mother passed away so long ago that I strain to recall her scent, her laugh, the way she would read to me at night. When she died, she took pieces of all of us with her. But seeing Liam with Mama Yvette, as she insisted we call her, doesn't fill the hole, but it's a patch.
Paula is next to her, a glass of something fizzy in hand. I suspect by the gloss in her eye that she smuggled in something to add to her celebration. I'm jealous I didn't think of it first. Aunt Niecy arrived an hour ago and has been introducing herself to every alpha in the room. She's got a lot more single omega relatives. Who's ready to go next?
I dodge her as if she's a big game hunter and I'm prey. I almost make it.
"Roan." Aunt Niecy materializes at my elbow with the precision of a woman who has done this before. "You know, my niece Deja just moved back to the city. Very sweet girl. Omega. Beautiful."
"Good for Deja."
"Good for whoever's smart enough to—"
"Aunt Niecy." I say it gently. Firmly. The way you set something down that you're not picking back up.
She gives me a long, assessing look, then drifts away toward her next target. I exhale.
This is what it looks like. A family, assembled. Our side, Star's side, the ragged, brilliant, loud thing they're making between them. Mom would have loved this dinner. She would have sat next to Star's mother and talked for hours without stopping. I sigh and try to appreciate Liam's new mantra: focus on the present.
Viv arrives late.
She blows through the door at half past seven with her coat half-off and a story already forming on her face. I push off the wall to intercept her, and she gives me a quick hug.
"You're late."
"I'm here, aren't I?" She shoves her coat at me. "Liam start his speech yet?"
"Grayson's still in mourning over the bar. We haven't gotten that far."
She snorts. I'm pointing to where Hunter and Jaleesa are either engaged in a lovey-dovey conversation or another battle of wits. They enjoy both so who knows.
Small talk stops when the woman behind her steps through the door.
I freeze.
Not gradually. Not with warning. I stop mid-sentence, mid-breath, mid-thought. My nervous system reroutes as every nerve fires at once.
She's standing just inside the entrance, shaking rain from her coat, her dark curls pinned loosely at the back of her neck. A few have pulled free at her temples. She's in an emerald green dress that hugs her hips before flaring out. Her skin is nutmeg brown, her brows furrow until they land on the newlyweds.
That slays me. She's here for Liam and Star. Not me.
Her scent reaches me before she turns. Sweet. Deep. Something underneath it I don't have language for—a note that isn't flower or fruit or rain, just its own specific frequency, singular and private, the kind of thing that exists exactly once in the world. It lands in the center of my chest and doesn't move.
The bond knowledge is not subtle. It doesn't build or unfold or ask permission. It's a flat gray seed that suddenly explodes with budding life. When it erupts it pulses with one word.
Mine.
I know her face, not from memory but from Viv—from birthday parties and childhood summers and the ragged edges of stories I half-heard. She was a kid. Twelve, thirteen, a little serious, Viv's best friend from some summer that's been years behind me for a long time.
That girl is not in this room.
Viv grabs her hand, pulling her into the room, and the movement brings her three feet closer to me. I don't move.
I wait.
It happens in the first breath after an alpha's omega enters range—always. The flicker. The catch. The small involuntary thing a body does when it recognizes its other half. I have watched it happen to other people. It happened to my brother in a flower shop on a Tuesday afternoon and then he spent weeks trying to survive the aftermath.
