Page 49 of Brave New Omega, Part 2

Chapter 49

KATIE

“ J esus Christ, rich people.” I lean heavily on Maddie as we weave back toward one of the bars. “I need a drink.”

“Me too,” Layla says. “I feel like I went before the queen.”

“Do they even have a queen?” Maddie asks.

“No, they have a constitutional republic, but they do still have a peerage – gentry that are the inherited stewards of twelve regions of Savolinna,” Layla rattles off before gliding to an opening at one of the bars. She collects our empty champagne flutes and sets them on the bar, then orders each of us a glass of white wine.

“You know I prefer red,” I grumble.

“Yes, but it will stain your teeth, and you're here to woo his family, right? So, you need to look as regal as possible, and that’s much harder with stained teeth.”

Touche .

“Where did you learn that?” Maddie asks as she grabs her glass of wine, careful not to spill it. I still lean on her and nod toward an empty bench. I just need a minute to massage the muscle that’s spasming, then I’ll be fine.

Layla rolls her eyes. “Aurelia gave us an entire lesson on the history of Savolinna. Do you pay attention to anything?”

“Aside from the lesson on Alpha sex, no.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Layla says.

“Knot surprised?” Maddie waggling her eyebrows.

“Simmer down, both of you.” I rub my knee. “We need to stay focused on the mission.”

“Aye Aye, Captain,” they say together.

“I think the first mission objective has been met,” I say, assessing the last ten minutes. Celeste seemed pleased to see me, and Nyambi, the family’s first Beta, already felt like an ally. And meeting Claudia… those feelings were too complicated to examine now. I will save those for later, when I’m not on high alert.

“Met and exceeded,” Layla says, raising her glass toward me. “You were perfect, Katie. Elegant, but genuine. Warm but not gushing.”

“Yeah, I think you impressed the Bride and her Beta –how do Packs talk about non-parents that raise you? Nyambi seemed to like you well enough. Though, that Matilda woman is a piece of work,” Maddie says.

“Yeah, she joined their Pack around the time that their Omega –got sick,” I say, relating the new intelligence.

There was clearly a disparity in this society–not just class, but between designations. But Loren never talked down to Betas. He’d been open to dating one enough to even give the poison pixie a chance. But maybe that was unusual. And if Betas were second-best, that could explain Genevieve's need to get revenge. But why the intelligence smuggling? I pinch the bridge of my nose, the mild whine of a headache starting.

“A compensation fuck,” Maddie says.

I blink, not wanting to think about the many lovers our mom had over the years. All of whom left her when she herself was diagnosed with aggressive ovarian cancer.

Was Pack Bellrose better or worse? Taking in another lover when their Omega was sick? But also, caring for their Omega when she was too sick to ever reciprocate?

“Mission object one, check.” Maddie checks the air. “Mission objective two?”

I rub my forehead and shake out my leg. The worst of the ache is gone.

“I need to deal with Genevieve, but I’m not sure how. Making a scene probably won’t go well.”

“I could kick her teeth in?” Maddie offers, and Layla laughs into her half-finished glass of wine. “What? I told you both that I earned my black belt in kickboxing. I absolutely can ruin her.”

“I love you, you know that?” I ask, standing and stretching. “Come on, let's at least take one more ‘turn about the room.’ If we don’t see her, then we can leave.”

Part of me hoped we didn’t see her. As much as I want to kidney punch the little weasel, I also don’t want to embarrass my Pack by doing it in such a public place.

The crowd surges and pulls us in. We move in a tight circle as the flow of movement slows by a giant wall of windows. We’re on a second story, and one side of this upstairs ballroom looks down on the lower story.

As we approach, I realize that the men's toast – which is more like group shouting and banter, according to Max – is positioned to look up at us. All the gathered Alphas and a few Betas are watching us as we congregate in front of the windows.

“It’s a fucking flesh market!” Maddie growls. She crosses her arms and scowls down at the sea of Alphas below.

“This is part of why we’re here ,” Layla says and walks up to the windows, the way a few of the other, bolder Omegas do. She looks over the sea of faces, and for a moment she stills. I slide behind her.

She’s locked gazes with an Alpha in the crowd. He’s standing with my Alphas, his hair dark and thick down past his shoulders. He has a short trimmed beard and blue eyes that are lifted to watch the window. His nose is a little large for my taste, and his suit almost looks like a costume, with a double breasted front with two rows of brass buttons.

Layla’s perfume seeps out around us, all caramel and champagne.

“Lala, you okay?” I ask, and she whirls away, breathing hard.

“Y-yes. I found your guys,” she squeaks, taking several large strides away from the window. I glance over my shoulder, smiling and waving at Callum, Max, and Loren. The mystery man behind them is still watching the window, eyes darting back and forth, like he might find Layla again.

“I think maybe it’s time to scrap mission objective two and just head home.” I grab my phone to text Max.

“Good plan,” Maddie says, and she links her arm in mine.

The crowd surges again, and Maddie and I stumble forward, toward the back of the ballroom. Layla is pulled deeper into the throng of women at the front, out of my sight.

“Layla?” I call, unlooping my arm from Maddie and trying to push toward the front of the crowd, but the crowd closes around us, cutting off the path we’d just made.

“Something is wrong,” I say.

“No shit,” Maddie says. “Look at this place.”

“No. We need to get back to the main ballroom and find Layla.” A shiver of cold dread slides down my spine. There are a series of closed doors on the opposite side of the room, and women mingle, laughing and picking up champagne flutes.

“There’s less security in here,” I whisper. It was true, none of the doors had guards, and only two Beta guards hovered by a glass double door leading out to what must have been a balcony. I grab Maddie’s arm and pull her through the crowd, fighting upstream toward the main ballroom.

“Shit, Katie, you’re burning up.”

“Can’t worry about that now,” I grunt, pushing past two giggling girls in matching yellow dresses who spill their champagne on one another and shriek. No time to worry about impressions now. Layla could be in danger. Someone must have grabbed her.

We weave our way to one side, trying to find a way back toward the front, when a high-pitched laugh freezes my forward momentum.

“Imagine meeting a Traveler here, of all places? As though you could pass as one of us.”

Genevieve emerges from one of the shadowed doorways, dressed in a wine-red gown and pools around her like a halo of blood.

“Imagine being at an event where you weren’t wanted?” I spit, before thinking. This woman knows how to press my buttons, and I cannot let her. Not now, not when I’ve been separated from Layla.

She laughs, that same high, fake titter. Almost like Matilda.

Matilda . I file that thought away for later, but narrow my focus on the poison pixie in front of me.

“Darling little Omega,” she drawls. “I’m very wanted. Wanted by so many. And you, well, you're just convenient.”

She looks at Maddie, who has already crouched slightly, hovering just on the edge of a fighter’s stance.

“And who's this new friend? Another one of your sisters?”

“What do you want?” I say flatly.

She pouts. “Well, I want to play with you. But you’re so serious, just like Callum and Loren. No sense of humor. It’s all ‘you betrayed my trust’ this and ‘you fucking bitch’ that. Honestly, Pack Murphy is tiresome.”

“She’s mad,” Maddie says softly. I nod. This isn’t just vengeance. This edges right up to actual mental unwellness. And that’s a big problem. Because you can't anticipate mental unwellness in a fight.

“The second Omega speaks! Ah, it’s good that I have two– two is better than one. I had hoped to grab the blond. She’s got good genetics, but alas.” She shrugs.

“We’re going,” I say, ready to push past Genevieve and into the crowd. If we go in far enough, we’ll be too tangled in bodies to be easily grabbed.

“No, Little Omegas, you aren’t.”

She snaps her fingers and two more people materialize out of the partially concealed door behind her. Men. Betas .

They lunge and grab us, hauling us away from the lights and laughter into the shadows.