Page 29 of Promised to the Alpha Prince

Great.

Then, I sat down hard on my bed and actually cried.

I think it was just the stress of everything. I was overwhelmed. My whole life had been overturned in a few days, and I was apparently failing miserably at connecting with my soon-to-be husband.

It would have been one thing if he hadn’t walked out of the luncheon, but then, this? Canceling on me? It felt like a slap in the face.

I should have known better, though. He was just this way. He’d been this way all along. I was an idiot to have expected anything different.

I got a text from Johannes a few hours later, saying, Hey, this is Johannes. Hope you don’t think it’s weird that I got your number. I hear it turns out you’re free tonight after all?

The sheer difference in the texts stunned me. Johannes was considerate. He introduced himself. He acted like it mattered if I wanted to consent to his having my phone number.

I cried again.

Anyway, we texted back and forth, making plans, deciding on times and travel arrangements. It was all decided. I’d spent the rest of the afternoon and evening anticipating the outing.

Now, I was trying to get ready, and I didn’t have anything to wear.

I was dangerously close to crying for a third time when someone knocked on my door.

I went over and opened it.

It was Ilse. “Hey,” she said, “I overheard you saying you’ve never been clubbing. Johannes is great, but he has the obvious disadvantage of having a penis.”

“That’s a disadvantage?” I said, laughing.

“And so,” she continued, “he knows nothing about what a woman needs to prepare for a trip to the most exclusive club in Koch. You want help deciding what to wear?”

I had never been so relieved in my life. “Yes, please. Thank you so much.”

She swept into the room, tall and blond and poised and elegant, and the relief got even more intense.

The thing about being an omega is that everyone is always looking at me. I don’t think they can help it. It’s about scent and instinct. Even betas are affected by it, though they may not be entirely aware of it. They look at me, and they judge me.

Lots of times, they judge me favorably, to be fair. To be an omega is to be doted on and coddled and that sort of thing. But whatever the case, it’s pressure. Even though I’m an omega, I’m a little bit shy.

If I went anywhere with Ilse, though, everyone would look at her. I was sure of it. Her alpha presence was so intense that it would blot me out. She was a bright star shining and I could simply be her shadow.

She sorted through my closet, making faces.

“I know,” I sighed. “I didn’t think to bring any clothes like that. Well, to be fair, I’m not sure I ever owned any.”

She tugged out a pair of jeans. “These can work,” she said.

“Okay,” I said. I hadn’t been sure how casual I could be for this outing.

“What’s your shoe size?” she said.

I told her.

“Well, that will never work,” she said.

“What won’t?”

“You can’t borrow my shoes,” she said. “You have tiny omega feet.” She grinned at me, as if this was very, very cute and she liked it a lot. She got out her phone and began typing on the screen. “Come with me. Bring the jeans.”

“Um? Okay?” I picked up the jeans and we went out of the door into the hallway. She texted and walked and I trailed after her. We went around bends and up a staircase and then emerged into another room very similar to mine, with a four poster bed and a fireplace and fancy coverlets on the bed. There were dead animal heads on the wall in here. They all had antlers, but none of them looked like deer. One might have been an elk, another maybe a moose?

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