“So,” he said. “I overheard something earlier and I was hoping you could explain it.”
I flicked a glance at him, then rolled my eyes back up toward the ceiling so Cale wouldn’t jab me with the eyeliner pencil. “What?” I asked.
“Hush,” Cale said. “Don’t move.”
The reporter grinned. “Why, after all the negotiations your Alpha has gone through, do you have to offer him a dozen other choices?”
Holland and I stared at each other.
“It’s tradition,” Holland said slowly. “Political and family ties, power, all that. There’s always the hope that the Alpha will see another omega he likes better.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek, careful of the blusher that pinked my cheeks against my nervous pallor. “I’m not after your man.” He winked at me.
“Well, I am!” said Lavon, the omega from the Rathburn pack.
Holland and I both sent him a withering look, but he only grinned.
Honestly, some omegas have no class at all.
“It didn’t used to be,” Bram piped up, surprising us. He looked around in puzzlement at us all. “Garrick found a story that said it was originally to keep people from stealing the omega—he found an actual news story, not just stuff that people tell around the kitchen table.” He looked proud of his knowledge.
“Interesting,” the reporter said. “Why did it change?”
The rest of the group just stared at him dumbly. I thought I knew, but I wasn’t going to bring up the topic of the True Omegas. I’d been forced to accept that I was a mythological creature, but until we knew what it meant, it had been agreed to keep my membership in Jason’s exclusive club a secret. At least, until I began to show. But I needed to say something. “Probably being moved into the enclaves. Like now, if a wealthy Alpha mated, other packs would want to align with them. The gifts alone would be worth it. And since omegas have no value outside the home, the opportunity to shove your own omegas in front of an Alpha’s nose was something you couldn’t pass by.”
The reporter looked at me as if he knew I hadn’t told him the whole story, but I supposed reporters learned early on in their career to know when there was more to the tale than had been told. Whatever he thought, I wasn’t telling him anything else.
“Time to get you dressed,” Holland murmured in my ear.
I nodded and stood. My mating suit was laid out on Holland’s bed and he and Bram followed me into the bedroom. I gently but firmly closed the door in the faces of the rest of the omegas, and left them out of this little ritual. While I undressed, Bram set out the box of paints and then he and Holland spent nearly an hour carefully painting symbols for luck and fertility and happiness over my skin, in long undulating lines that traced the path of my blood through my body.
The paint was scented with moss and amber and hints of spice, and the perfume rose up around me, freed by the heat of my body. From this point on, I could no longer sit down, for fear of smearing the patterns before Abel and I had a chance to smear them together. Tomorrow, the rozvennya and I would examine the mating sheets to see if anything could be divined from them, some hint of what the future might hold. It was complete bullshit, but kind of fun.
Once my paint was on, Holland held out the pants and Bram helped me step into them. The boots came next, then they helped me into the shirt, easing it carefully over my arms and tying the belt in the complicated mating knot. Holland tweaked the loose ends so that they dangled just inside my right hip, one side longer than the other.
Bram watched me with hungry eyes, his longing for a mate and a child obvious in every line of his face. Holland was outwardly calm, but it was calm mixed with sadness. He’d likely never have this again, if he’d ever had it in the first place. I didn’t even know if he’d had a proper ceremony when they’d mated him off—he didn’t like talking about that time of his life, and I couldn’t blame him. Impulsively, I reached out and hugged him, then Bram.
“You’ll smudge!” Bram exclaimed, but he seemed pleased by the hug.
“I think I’m fine.” I glanced between the two of them. “Is it time to go yet?”
Holland checked his phone. “Five minutes. Need anything? A drink? Bathroom?”
I laughed shortly. “If I needed the bathroom, I should have gone before the paint went on, shouldn’t I?” I shook my head. “Let’s go. I can’t stand waiting.” I took Holland’s hand in one of mine, and Bram’s in the other, and led them out of the bedroom.
CHAPTER SIXTY
Abel stood in a huddle with Mac, Duke, and Quin behind the series of open-sided tents that had been set up along one side of Central Park in case of rain. Clouds covered the sky, and Abel was worried that Bax might be upset, with no full moon to shine on his mating. But that was a small worry compared to the one they were discussing at the moment.
Duke shook his head. “I think it was a mistake to invite them.”
“I invited all the Alpha’s. I couldn’t not invite Montana Border.” Abel shifted, the leather of his mating suit creaking with the movement. “You’re sure they were Montana shifters? And that it was Jason they were talking about?”
“As sure as I can be without a label pinned to them.” Duke crossed his arms over his chest and looked down, shifting his weight restlessly from one foot to the other. “We could invite them to a private party.” He glanced up at Abel, a half-grin curling his lips.
“I’m a little worried about the kind of games you might play,” Abel said with a wry grin, and Duke laughed.
“We’d know what they were up to at the end, though.”
Mac spoke up, tension dropping the timbre of his voice to a deep bass. “I think we should ask Becca or someone to watch the pups. Including Macy. And we keep Jason under close watch.”
“Is it too late to include him in the rozvennya?” Quin asked, the first time he’d spoken since they’d gathered.
Mac shook his head. “He won’t have the clothing for it. There’s been giggling and sewing and embroidering going on since February.” He mock shuddered, and the men laughed.
“You love it,” Duke said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ve never seen a man domesticated that fast in my life.”
“I don’t know that I was ever that wild,” Mac said.
Abel raised his eyebrows, questioning that comment and Mac grinned. “Okay, maybe a little wild, in my misspent youth. I had a good teacher.”
And that made Abel laugh. “He’s got you there, Quin.”
But Quin just smiled that slow smile of his and didn’t say anything.
Abel was worried about him. Quin had never been much of a talker before he joined the Navy, but now he was almost mute. “How much longer before you’re done your enlistment, Quin?” Like he wasn’t counting down the days until he could have his brother back.
Quin shrugged. “This fall.”
“We’re mostly going to be working on opening up the wall and extending it this summer, but I promised Bax a house as a mating gift.” Along with the baby he’s carrying. But that wasn’t for public consumption yet. Let people think he’d gotten pregnant on his first heat after mating—it would be seen as a sign of good luck. “By the time you get back, my apartment will be empty. I’ll put you in there, until we figure out permanent housing.”
“Mmph,” Quin said. He didn’t sound enthusiastic about it, and Abel made a mental note to ask him specifically what his plans were after his enlistment was up. He was eight years older than Abel, and had enough time in to retire if he wanted, something he’d talked about before—putting in his time, then bringing his pension money into the pack. But he’d changed since his last visit home and Abel had a sudden worrying vision of Quin re-enlisting. He didn’t think either of them wanted that, but Quin had always had a tendency to brood about his problems instead of looking for help in dealing with them.
He had a couple of days yet to deal with that, though, and right now, Montana Border was a more pressing problem. “About tonight…we have to get through the
ceremony first. Jason will be in full view of everyone, so they’re not likely to try anything then. My guess is that it’ll be during the party after, when people are full of food, and drunk.” And drunk they would be—one of his gifts to the pack was an open bar, though he’d warned the bartenders not to mix strong drinks, and all Mac’s security people were working to keep on top of drunken rowdiness. He’d debated a dry ceremony, but he was already under siege by Montana Border, and probably soon Jackson-Jellystone, once they realized what Bax was. He needed a show of strength, and part of that was a display of financial power. So he’d winced and okayed the purchase of the alcohol. And had given Mac permission to bump up his security numbers, even if it left some other areas of the pack shorthanded. They could shuffle people back to other areas later.
“Once the party has started, he won’t be leaving my side,” Mac stated flatly.
Abel nodded. “Quin, I want you to stay with him and watch for anything out of the ordinary. Get him to my apartment if it looks like they’re trying to take him.” Quin nodded, and Abel turned to Duke. “You hang back, just in case anything happens. Keep one of the new guys with you as a backup for communications. And send for me as soon as you know it’s starting.”
Edmund, their newest security officer, came running up. “The omegas are here! They just left Headquarters.” That set off a flurry of activity as Abel broke away to go back to the site of the ceremony, and Abel’s bratvuk spread out to surround the omegas as they entered the clearing.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
The sun was just beginning to set as we left the building. I walked toward the tents in Central Park in the middle of a crowd of omegas, ringed by Abel’s bratvuk. Duke, Mac, Quin, Varick, Randall, and Peter. I knew the first three in varying degrees, but the other three only vaguely. Had seen them around, but hadn’t spent much time with them. I thought Abel had chosen them for political reasons, which made me a little sad for him. Then again, many of my choices had been determined by politics as well and probably would be again, as Alpha’s Mate.
Each omega carried a small gift, meant to be burnt as offerings to the moon and the goddess Lisoonka, that she would protect my pups and help me to raise them well. They would all be given to Abel, of course, and it would be he who performed the burning.
Uncle Mitchel met us at the edge of the clearing. “You look very nice,” he said as he joined me inside my ring of protectors.
“Thank you,” I answered politely. He took my arm and we walked the rest of the way in silence.
A path had been opened for us in the crowd that surrounded the grass and the large open-sided tent that had been erected to protect us in case of rain. We filed in in a clump and Uncle Mitchel led me forward. Anxiety had me firmly in its grip, and I paid little attention to anyone except for the bulky outline of my mate in the shadow of the tent, though I did notice Roland standing in a place of honor closest to where I would finally be given into Abel’s keeping.
Uncle Mitchel stopped and placed me just outside of the wide ring of branches that set off the center of the clearing. A lantern hung from a pole right in the middle of it, and my uncle stepped into the circle, coming to a stop directly beneath the lantern. He raised his voice, and spoke in the deep rolling tones he always used during public address. It took me momentarily back to my childhood, but then his words grounded me, and reminded me why I was here.
“Alpha of Mercy Hills, in fair exchange of your friendship and good will, I offer you this omega of my pack, of good health and good nature, of proven fertility, and skilled in the keeping and care of a household.”
I raised my eyebrows at that last one, and I thought I saw the corner of Abel’s mouth twitch, though it was difficult to see him clearly in the dimness. But it was a part of the ceremony, even if Uncle Mitchel had had to stretch the truth a little for it.
Abel stepped forward so the light from the lantern fell directly upon him and my mouth dropped open. I didn’t realize he had any ceremonial clothing—he certainly hadn’t mentioned it—but this looked like it had been passed down over the ages. Heavy leather pants in a natural brown, a square-cut suede shirt ornamented with stones that gleamed with a depth that told me they weren’t just any old rock picked off the ground—these were worth something. A huge wolf skin, of a gray so deep it was nearly black, hung over his shoulders, the head draped over Abel’s like a hood. I wondered if that really was the skin of his enemy, and how many generations ago that enemy had lost to Abel’s ancestor.
Abel ignored me, as the ceremony demanded, and spoke only to Uncle Mitchel.
“Alpha of Buffalo Gap, I come to you in peace and in friendship, wearing the hides of my prey and the skins of my enemies, so that I may give proof that your kin will be cared for and safe. By my side will he shelter and be fed, he and the pups that he bears of my seed. By my side will he rest in comfort and contentment, and the pups of his body shall be raised in the right ways, the old ways and the new, and shall know both safety and plenty, that your line and mine may grow and prosper. This I promise by the moon, and the trees, and the wind that reveals the prey to our fangs.” He turned and beckoned the Buffalo Gap omegas forward. “In recognition of the value of my new mate, I offer a place here at Mercy Hills for these seven omegas of your pack, that they may profit by their time and also increase our lines.”
The crowd outside the tent murmured in awe. Each of the omegas bowed to Uncle Mitchel, then to Abel, and then went to stand in a small group outside the circle. The rest moved silently to join them, and then the entire group fanned out in a semi-circle behind me.
Uncle Mitchel raised his voice. “As Alpha to this unmated omega, I now call upon the pack to lend their voices to this mating, that the power of your wolf lend this couple strength to overcome the trials of life, and so they may know that they are not a pack unto themselves, but a small pack within two larger ones.”
The ululation of many shifter voices rose toward the moon and my eyes met Abel’s across the ring of branches that separated us, though not for long.
“I do not lend my voice to this mating,” someone in the crowd yelled.
The voices began to die off, rippling out from the source of the dissent. Heads turned and I searched the crowd anxiously, wondering what bad luck was following me. Then Sebastian, whom I had almost forgotten, who wanted me but not my babies, strode out of the crowd into the light of the lanterns. There was only one reason for him to be here.
I cursed under my breath, wondering how I could be this close to happiness, only to have it snatched away.
Maybe. I turned back to Abel, and the tightly managed anger on his face reassured me.
Abel stepped forward. “And what is your objection to the mating?”
Sebastian raised an arm and pointed at me. “He’s mine. By contract, signed at Jackson-Jellystone last fall, to be fulfilled this spring.”
“He isn’t a Jackson-Jellystone shifter,” my uncle said, folding his arms over his chest. “Who are you, anyway?”
Abel held up a hand. “I know who he is.” He stepped out of the mating circle, and went to loom over Sebastian. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to get out of this.”
Sebastian smiled. “I’ll get him.” He leaned in and said something else, so low that only Abel heard it.
We all saw the effect it had on him, though. He tensed, and his power boomed out of him, flattening a few unsuspecting shifters before he pulled it back in again.
Abel took a step back. “Doesn’t matter. His own Alpha is here to sign the contract.”
“Check again. Who stood guardian for him after Patrick died?”
Tense silence fell over the packmembers close enough to hear.
Sebastian grinned. “Roland. Have you negotiated with Roland for him?” He shot Abel a satisfied smile.
The blood drained out of my face as I realized that we’d missed something, both of us. I reached out blindly as dark sparkles danced in my vision and Holland and Bram came to me, one o
n each side. They held me, because Abel couldn’t right now.
Abel glanced over at Roland, who raised his hands. “I never thought of it. It was only supposed to be temporary, until he mated again. If it helps, I grant my permission for you to mate Baxter this night, and ask no recompense for it.”
Abel turned back to Sebastian. “Your point is moot.”
“I don’t think so. The original betrothal agreement was on paper, dated before your false one. I want him.”
Abel turned his head to look at me. “Sebastian is another of my cousins, though he wasn’t raised in Mercy Hills. He wanted me to send Adelaide away so he could be the doctor here. I never liked him, so I said no. He won’t have you.” He turned back to Sebastian. “Fine. I cry challenge.”
And Sebastian’s eyes lit up. “I accept.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
Abel turned and walked back to take Bax’s hands. “Kiss for luck?”
Bax obliged, but his eyes were worried, and he was far whiter than Abel liked. “Isn’t there another way?”
“Probably. None as quick as this though. And I’m tired of waiting.” When that didn’t reassure Bax, Abel squeezed his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “This has been coming for years. If it wasn’t tonight, it would be some other night. He fought for Alpha at the same time as me.”
“And you beat him.”
“I beat him.” Though it wasn’t a sure thing now—he spent too much time behind a desk. Hopefully, medical school had had the same effect on Sebastian. Abel raised Bax’s fingers to his mouth and kissed them. “I’ll be back for you soon.” He put all the heat he could into his gaze and was pleased to see Bax respond to it with parted lips and a flush on his cheeks.
Letting Bax’s hands drop, he turned back to meet Sebastian in the middle of the clearing. “I don’t want to kill you. We’re civilized now, and I won’t have the humans see us practicing ways that have no place in this time.” He kept it between the two of them, sharply aware of the reporter and his photographer friend in the crowd.
Abel's Omega(Gay Paranomal MM Mpreg Romance) (Mercy Hills Pack Book 2) Page 28