Knot Your Damn Omega (Slate City Omegaverse)

Omega.

The sweet scent of lilacs and the sharpness of hot tea filled my nose. Over all the scents in this crowd, her scent stood out like a firework in a dark sky. I couldn’t stop watching her disappear through the crowd, that gold dress doing things to her body my imagination should not be running with.

“Sorry about that,” the other Omega said with a grimace. “She doesn’t like parties.”

I recognized her when I looked more closely. Her hair was much shorter, but she had the same face as the woman who’d just run from me like I was the devil himself. If the devil were made of cupcakes, apparently.

This was the movie star, Eva May Williams, and that… “That’s your sister?”

“That’s Esme. In the flesh. Sorry about the interruption, Carson.”

“That’s all right,” Carson said, still smirking. “Even a fucked up Bennett Gray tattoo is still a Bennett Gray tattoo.”

“For real.” Eva looked at me with sparkles in her eyes. “I’m a huge fan of your work, and I’d love to have a piece done by you sometime. Something bigger than you can do at a party.”

I blinked, trying to focus on the words she was saying. The scent of delicate, purple flowers was still in the air and I was suddenly wondering if we had a kettle back home because I was in the mood for tea.

“Absolutely.” I reached over to my table where the supplies were and grabbed one of the cards. “Make an appointment and come in any time. We’ll do a consultation.”

“Thank you!” She was practically dancing. My eyes were still drawn to the disappearing gold dress I saw slip out the door to the balcony. Eva caught my gaze and followed it. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

No. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to inhale her. “I don’t think she’s ready to talk to anything that isn’t made in a bakery.”

Eva laughed. “Don’t let her food craving scare you off.” Someone called her name across the room, and she waved before holding up the business card. “I’ll give the studio a call. Hopefully I’ll see you soon.”

I stood there for a second after she left, feeling like I’d been flipped upside down and hung by my ankles, and was still hanging there.

“You okay, Ben?” Carson asked, voice carrying under the music.

“Yeah.” I turned back, taking my seat once again. I needed to finish his tattoo—an infinity symbol which looked simple but was actually difficult to execute because of the three-dimensional elements I was adding. If she’d bumped into me a second earlier or later, there would have been a thick black line running up the inside of Carson’s wrist, and that wouldn’t have been good for my reputation.

“So, Esme?”

I glanced up at him and then back down. Carson Lord was one of many actors in the room. An Alpha, but he played the lighter roles. Comic relief, which was why him getting a tattoo on his wrist in the middle of an industry party wasn’t career suicide. There were more than enough actors in this room—Alphas and Betas alike—who’d eyed me, clearly wanting to come over before they were inevitably pulled away by whatever publicist had to make sure they kept their image clean.

That was fine. I was getting paid either way.

“What about her?” I asked, trying to disguise the sharpness of my interest. New waves of her scent still lingered in the air. The bitterness of tea steeped too long and the lightness of it when you breathed in the steam. But mostly, the feather-light sweetness of the air in spring when you walked by lilacs in full bloom.

Fuck, I loved that scent.

And I’d purred for her. Hopefully the music had hidden that instinctual bit of Alphaholic instinct, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world. She’d been distressed, and I needed to comfort her.

“You like her?”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never met her before. How would I know?”

He stared at me, challenging me with his gaze until I relented with a growl. “Fine. She smells amazing, and I’m finding it very difficult to focus on inking you.”

“Clearly she likes the way you smell too, cupcake.”

“That’s a new one,” I admitted. “Most people have said some shade of vanilla, but cupcake is very specific.”

Carson chuckled. We’d known each other long enough now that his teasing couldn’t get under my skin. He already had one of my pieces on his back—the wrist was just a bonus since I was tattooing for ‘free’ as a part of my fee to be here.

A ridiculously large fee.

“Have you read what the press says about her?”

I snorted. “You know I haven’t.” Through Carson and some other famous clients I had, I’d seen enough to know what the gossip mags reported was rarely true, and mostly hurtful.

“They say she’s an ice queen. Has turned down a hundred packs who’ve offered to bond, and not been kind while doing it. A complete bitch.”

A growl ripped out of me, causing the heads nearest us to turn, and I sat back, stunned. I must still be caught up in her scent. Pure, gorgeous Omega.

Carson held up the hand I wasn’t inking. “I didn’t say I thought those things. I’ve never met her in person, cupcake incident aside, but I know Eva. And Eva is amazing. I can’t imagine her sister being completely different. Not when they spend so much time together.”

Intentionally, I dipped the irons in ink and went back to doing the final touches on his tattoo. I’d been around plenty of Omegas before, and none of them had ever made me react this way. There was always the protective instinct, of course, that natural leaning in which made Alphas and Omegas pull toward each other.

But none of their scents had slammed into me like a battering ram. Was this what it was like for Addison when she met Claire? I needed to ask her. Because if it was…

I wasn’t sure I could follow that line of thought. It was too complicated. There was so much more than one scent to consider. There was the whole rest of my pack, if Esme was even looking for one. If what Carson said was even a tenth true about her turning down packs?

Shaking my head, I dismissed the thought. Not once had I put stock in what the gossip machine had to say. I wasn’t going to start now when it might actually matter.

Finishing the final shading, I wiped away the last bit of ink from Carson’s wrist. “There you go.”

He grinned. “Stellar. As usual.”

“I think you’re the only one who’s actually going to get one.” I bandaged it for him. We’d done enough sessions I knew I didn’t have to lecture him about proper care.

“Oh, one-hundred percent. I’d say you’re fully clear to go after Miss Cupcake if you want.”

I looked at him. “Who says I want to?”

Carson snorted. “Every inch of your body language says you want to. And even with the scent dampeners, I could scent a bit of her. I don’t blame you a bit.”

Suddenly I was on my feet and I didn’t know how I got there, the feral urge to protect against the threat of what was mine.

Laughing, Carson just stood and clapped me on the back. “Thank you for proving my point so thoroughly. Now, I have to go show off the tattoo.”

I started to put away my equipment. No one else had even spoken to me about ink tonight, and now I had another motivation. As much as it annoyed me to admit Carson was right, he was. I didn’t want to be stuck doing a tattoo when I could be closer to a bunch of lilacs.

The smart thing would be to walk away. Pack up the equipment, go home, tell the guys about it and maybe try to meet her the way someone like her should be met. With flowers and courting gifts. Showing her everything we had to offer and laying everything on the table.

Then again, I was one hell of a tattoo artist, but I never claimed to be smart.

Stowing my equipment in the secure space left for the vendors and performers, I took one long, deep breath. The air was filled with a hundred mild scents, all knocked down because of the scent dampeners in the air. All but one. A sweet thread which called to me, pulling me like it had me on a leash.

There was no point in trying to resist. I was already moving, searching for the scent of lilacs and tea.