Page 16 of Omega's Faith
Alex snorts. Actually snorts. Then tries to cover it with a cough. His knee bumps mine under the table and electricity shoots up my thigh. We both jerk back like we've been burned.
"Pastor David has led our congregation for almost fifty years," Dad says, a hint of steel in his voice. "He's a good man."
"I'm sure that he is,” Diana says, without looking up. “I’m not arguing with that. I’m just not sure he’d be suitable for the ceremony.”
“Why not?” Dad asks.
Diana puts her pen down. She looks at Dad then at me. “He’s very traditional, as I understand it. We will have the press there. I don’t want anything that can be misconstrued and fed to the tabloids. Someone a little more...modern may be a better choice.”
There’s the bulldozer again.
“I want Pastor David,” I say. “It won’t feel like a proper marriage without him. He’s married everyone in my family.”
Diana looks at me and there’s a beat before she thinks where I can almost see the gears turning in her head.
“Everyone?”
“Yes, he married Mom and Dad. My uncles and aunts. My brothers and sisters. And he’s going to marry me.”
Diana sighs. “Okay, I can spin that. Traditional family values. It’s a human interest piece, but I’ll need to speak to him beforehand. His ceremonial content will have to pass muster with my PR team.”
I bite back a laugh. I can just imagine Pastor David’s face when he hears that. She does have a point though. If Pastor David starts telling Alex Colborne that he’s the devil in the middle of the service, it’ll make the front page in newspapers across the country.
I glance at my groom-to-be and feel my heart skip a beat. He’s still looking down at his phone, long eyelashes hiding his eyes. He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. It’s such a pity his angelic face hides such an ugly interior.
Diana makes another note, then looks up at me just as I take a big bite of chicken. "I know that you are unfamiliar with all this, but I’ve been doing it for years. The media narrative needs to be carefully managed. We will give you help.”
I couldn’t answer even if I wanted to. My mouth is full but I do wonder what her ‘careful management’ says about Alex Colbourne. Why would a grown man need careful management. Either she is terrible at her job or he is just plain terrible.
She gives me what she probably thinks is a sympathetic look as I swallow. “The media will be running stories on this whether we like it or not. The only thing we can do is make sure the stories are favorable. Right now, that story is America's playboy reformed by sweet, conservative omega. A true love story."
"Love story?" The words escape before I can stop them. I’ve barely even spoken to him.
Everyone looks at me. Alex's storm-gray eyes bore into mine, something unreadable flickering in their depths. His scent spikes. Angry. Or...
"Of course." Diana's tone suggests I'm particularly slow. "A prime match of this caliber? The public expects romance. Destiny. Two souls meant to be together despite their... differences."
Alex's jaw clenches so hard I hear it click. His fingers drum against the table, a restless, agitated rhythm. My scent blooms stronger in response, and his nostrils flare.
"We'll need engagement photos as soon as possible," Diana continues, oblivious. "Something that shows the contrast between you. Your wholesome background with Alexander's more... cosmopolitan lifestyle."
"Cosmopolitan," I repeat. "That's what we're calling it?"
Dad meets my eyes and shakes his head minutely. I might be an omega but I’ve always been too outspoken. I’ve been better at it in recent years but right now, I’m finding it really, really difficult.
Alex's eyes snap to mine again. This time there's heat there, dangerous heat that makes my omega instincts purr even as my brain screams warnings.
"Got something to say, church mouse?" His voice is low, rough.
"No, Alpha." I load the title with enough sarcasm to strip paint.
His pupils blow wider.
“Jonah.” Dad says, and I know I’ve pushed it too far, but this is difficult. I’m not Mom and my alpha is nothing like Dad. I’m supposed to venerate, submit and obey Alex Colborne of all people?
This can’t be what God wants for me. It can’t.
I open my mouth to protest, but then under the table, his foot shifts, touching mine. The contact sends sparks up my leg, and suddenly I feel a whoosh of dampness on my chair. My face flushes and I know I’ve gone beet red.