Knot Your Damn Omega (Slate City Omegaverse)

This was insane.

The horde of paparazzi outside nearly blinded us getting out of the car. They were behind barricades and there was plenty of security, but it still felt like being hit with a metric fuck ton of sound.

After making sure I didn’t flash my vagina at every camera in the known world, I managed to smile and wave next to Eva while she posed, looking over her shoulder at them and winking.

They were all rapid-fire and toppling over one another, but I could still pick out all the questions.

Esme, who’s the latest victim? Which pack now has broken hearts? Are you in the closet? Do you need a female pack? Did the death of your father break you? Are you in therapy? Who helps with your heats? Do you share with Eva?

My sister looped her arm through mine again, her smile now forced. “Fucking assholes.” She said it without moving her lips.

“Apparently everyone’s thinking the same thing, so I’m not sure they’re out of line.”

She rolled her eyes as soon as we were out of view. The lobby of the building was echoey and quiet in comparison, even with people milling about, waiting to go upstairs. “They’re so fucking far out of line I’m going to have my lawyers rip them a new asshole. I get they have to ask about the relationship stuff, and it sucks. But they don’t get to ask about dad or if you’re in fucking therapy.”

I swallowed and pulled her into a hug. Every day I missed Dad. And yes, I’d gone to therapy, though it was no one’s business. But it hit Eva hard, too. He hadn’t been gone long, and he hadn’t been there to present her at her bonding ceremony.

If—when—my time came, I was sure I would feel the same.

I shoved down the emotions about Dad. Though it had been two years, I hadn’t really grieved. I had, and I hadn’t. It was too hard, and every time I thought about him I couldn’t breathe.

So I did my best not to think about him.

Denial was the best medicine, right?

“Sorry,” Eva muttered. “It just pisses me off.”

“I know, and I appreciate it. But let’s go do this party thing so we can get the hell out of here.”

Eva laughed, quickly swiping under her eyes. “Deal.”

“Why is this party happening again?”

She snorted inelegantly as we walked to the elevator, Neil close behind. “Honestly? What we just walked through was most of it.”

“This was all for pictures?”

“Kind of. Just press in general. You know how it is. A lot of pretty, famous people in one spot draws attention. Wellbridge Studio doesn’t have any huge films out until the end of the summer, but they want to keep us in everybody’s mind.”

Neil pushed the button for the elevator, and we followed him inside.

“I hate that that makes sense.”

“Plus,” Eva added. “They get to spoil us at these parties, and they’re fun. You’ll see. Now that I’ve finally dragged you to one you’ll always want to come.”

“I highly doubt it.”

But I had to admit, the doors of the elevator opening onto what looked like a mix between a circus and a nightclub might be able to change my mind.

Deep red fabric draped from the ceiling, creating a tent. Black chandeliers dotted the space with actual candles flickering in them. The rest of the light came from roving spotlights and patterned beams in warm colors shifting over the tent itself.

An aerial silk performer hung from the ceiling, twisting sensually in time with the music. In the corner I spotted an illusionist, and there was a person painting an elaborate golden mask on someone’s face. Eva was right, the studio wasn’t holding anything back for this party.

There was an exit to the balcony overlooking downtown, and there were people everywhere. Music pulsed under my feet, at once melodic and rhythmic. It was loud enough so that it wasn’t awkward, but I also didn’t feel the need to beg for earplugs.

Eva was right. It smelled remarkably mild in here for the amount of people. The scent controller they used spread everything out to a sweet, vaguely citrus scent. Just to test, I lifted my wrist to my nose and inhaled. Nothing but clean air.

Damn.

I needed to ask Eva where she got this.

“There you are!” Jasmine waved, pulling us deeper into the crowd. “I was about to come hunt you down.”

“A lot of paps,” Eva said. “And do me a favor? Tell the gossip magazines if they ever shout questions at me or Esme about our father, if we’ve gone to therapy, or anything remotely close to that line, I’ll make sure they never have a legal photo of us ever again.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Got it.”

Jasmine was Eva’s manager. A Beta with gorgeous dark skin and even darker eyes, she was easily the most badass, competent person I’d ever met. Not once had she done anything to endanger Eva or expose her to the press, and because of that, I trusted her.

“Anything I should know?”

Jasmine waved her hand in a so-so motion before she took both of our clutches for safekeeping. “Mostly just mingle. The studio heads will probably want a few words at some point, but I’ll come pull you out when you’re needed. There’s also an official photographer, and we’d love to get some pictures of the two of you dancing.”

“We can do that,” I said. The dance floor was a go-to of mine. “When I dance I don’t have to talk to people.”

Jasmine laughed. “If more of the people in this room had your attitude, I imagine there would be a lot fewer publicity messes.”

Eva pulled me away and was immediately flagged down by Dante Norwood. A sweet Beta who somehow managed to drip Alpha energy on screen. Pretty sure all the Alphas in the room hated him a bit for it, too. “Darling, you look beautiful.” He kissed Eva on both cheeks before he turned to me. “And Esme, you look fucking fantastic if I say so myself.”

“Thank you.”

“I had to force her into that dress since Jasmine wouldn’t let me wear it.” Eva pouted.

Dante shook his head in mock pity. “Whatever will Eva May Williams do without wearing a ten thousand dollar dress?”

My head swung so fast I thought my neck would dislocate. “This dress cost that much?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t pay for it. It was a gift from the designer.”

It was moments like these I realized how truly different my sister’s life was from mine. I had more money than I knew what to do with thanks to my inheritance, but I wasn’t walking around in clothes that cost ten grand. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t stolen any of Liam’s pizza earlier.

“Have you seen the food?” I asked Dante. “Because I’m about to eat so much this thing will look like a maternity dress.”

Dante tilted his head back, throwing laughter toward the ceiling. “If you manage to make that happen, please come straight to me. It’s over there.” He gestured to the other side of the room. Or the tent.

“Thank you!” I grabbed Eva’s wrist and pulled her with me. “I should have stolen your pizza earlier.”

“We both should have. Food is a great idea.”

A table nearly as long as the room itself was stuffed with food. Mountains of crab puffs, charcuterie, a line of hot, covered dishes full of comfort foods, and down at the end I saw a grocery store’s worth of fruit nearby three different chocolate fountains.

All at once, the scent of cake washed over me, like a bakery come to life, and I groaned. “Fuck, do you smell that? I need a cupcake.”

Eva looked at me, then she looked all along the table. “What? There aren’t any cupcakes here.”

“Then Dante must have been wrong because I smell cupcakes and now it’s all I can think about.” Sweet vanilla frosting and yellow cake. The craving was so strong, I would have eaten the cupcakes you found in plastic containers at a gas station just to make sure my stomach stopped its rebellion.

“Esme,” Eva called after me, laughing. “You’re having food hallucinations right now.”

“It’s because I’m so hungry,” I said over my shoulder, pushing towards the front of the room where the scent was coming from. I swore they must have come straight out of the oven. “It’ll be fine. Just one and my brain will be back to normal.”

That wasn’t true. With a craving this strong? I’d probably be six cupcakes deep before I felt like stopping.

“Esme—” Eva called out as I crashed into something. Someone. I turned, looking at a man sitting in a chair, while another man sat in front of him with his wrist out. The guy I’d just run into was holding a tattoo machine and in the middle of tattooing some kind of symbol on the guy’s wrist.

He was now looking at me, big green eyes and a backwards baseball cap, and he seemed as confused as I was about the fact that I’d just slammed into him like my human brake lines had been cut.

It didn’t look like I’d just ruined a tattoo, but I couldn’t stop staring in confusion. This was right where the scent was, but there were no baked goods, and my cranky ass couldn’t handle that.

“You,” I said, “are not a cupcake.”

The man smirked. “No, I’m not.”

He stood, and Eva finally stepped in next to me. “He may not be a cupcake, but he does have some serious cake, if you know what I mean.”

I turned my head slowly, staring at my sister, who I was now going to murder. “He can hear you, Eva.”

She wasn’t paying attention to me at all. “Holy shit. You’re Bennett Gray.”

“Guilty as charged.” The giant in front of me spoke in a voice which was somehow both deep and musical. He was tall and built like a wall, the dark t-shirt he wore doing absolutely nothing to disguise the kind of biceps he had just like his jeans did nothing to hide the ass my sister called out. Biceps covered in tattoos which flowed all the way down to his wrists. I saw some peeking out from the collar of his shirt, too.

Holy. Fuck.

It wasn’t just his body which was gorgeous. The man fit perfectly into this room of movie stars and models. But I didn’t recognize him, and I was at least halfway familiar with most of the people in Eva’s circle. Who was he?

My mind still seemed fuzzy, and I still couldn’t seem to wrap my mind around why he was here and not the plate of carbs and sugar my nose had promised me. “You’re still not a cupcake.”

“He knows, Esme.”

Quickly, I lifted my wrist to my nose to clear my head, and when I pulled it away the scent was still there. If anything it was stronger. My stomach flipped, suddenly realizing my mistake.

It was him.

The fucking cupcake scent was him.

He was all Alpha, and I felt pulled toward him like a magnet. Oh shit.

Terror so deep I couldn’t breathe clawed at my chest, and I took a step back.

“Um,” I cleared my throat. “I hope I didn’t fuck up your tattoo.”

He laughed, the rich sound reaching down inside me and making everything stand at attention. “You got lucky. I was about to grab more ink. So no, you didn’t fuck it up.”

His eyes slid over me, taking in the hair, the dress, the bracelet Esme had put on my arm, everything. I felt that look like a physical touch, hot honey sliding across my skin. I could have imagined it, but under the music, I thought I heard the low rumble of a purr, and I had to clear my throat to keep myself from letting out a whine which would draw more attention.

“I’m glad about that, for my sake. But I also like hearing Bennett be called a cupcake.” The man who was getting the tattoo spoke. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him.

“Okay.” I pressed my lips together. “I’m gonna go now.”

Before the tattooing cupcake or my sister could stop me, I ducked through the crowd back the way I came, toward the door to the balcony. Scent blockers or not, I needed some fresh fucking air after that mess.

And to maybe bury myself under all the food I hadn’t eaten in humiliation.