Page 35 of Excess

Stasia, Ivy, Brigitte, and I had gone to school together and managed to keep in touch, though it felt like we had less in common with each year that passed. Spencer had been the first mate to join our little circle—their parents were business partners of some kind and had pushed the two of them together at Ivy’s first heat. He’d tried and failed for years to convince one of us to take one of his friends as a mate.

“A benefits arrangement then,” Hugo mused. “Have you considered trying to befriend them?”

“My thoughts aren’t usually that wholesome in his presence.”

Hugo laughed again, and I felt slightly bad about it. My friends were probably going to leave here brainstorming what Hugo and I would name our future children just because I happened to be delightful company.

“How are you enjoying being back in London?” I asked, shooting the servers a quick smile of gratitude as they started setting out dishes along the centre of the table.

“Well,” Hugo began, grabbing the patatas bravas and holding out the dish for me to take some first. “As I said, I’m still hung up on my ex—who is back in Copenhagen—so that’s marred the experience of coming home somewhat. Work wanted me to back in the London office, and my family wanted me back to, you know, take on more responsibility and such.”

I nodded, understanding that perfectly.

“Did she not want to leave Copenhagen?”

“I’d have never left if that was the reason. No, we had been planning on moving together, but Kirstine pulled out at the last minute. She’s a beta, and has bought into the family rhetoric that she’s somehow not good enough for me because of it.”

“Was she aware of said family rhetoric? That’s a lot of pressure to stand up to.”

Hugo winced. “Yes. I thought I’d shielded her from it, but… well, they found a way. I haven’t given up, though. One day I’ll be the Marquess of Hastings, and then I can do whatever I want.”

“Playing the long game? I’ll toast to that,” I said, lifting my glass. He clinked his against mine and Ivy all but swooned on the other side of the table.

“The long game indeed.” He sighed wistfully. “But not too long, or Kirstine will move on and I’ll lose my mind. What about Mr All-Benefits-No-Friends? Are you playing the long game there?”

Was I?

I gave the idea some serious consideration while helping myself to some croquetas. Was I—even subconsciously—hoping that something was going to develop between Blake and I out of our current arrangement?

“No, I don’t think so,” I said eventually. “Aside from the fact that he doesn’t want a mate—and I can’t argue with that, so this is moot anyway—everyone expects me to pick a particular type of mate. From a particular type of family.”

“A future marquess, perhaps?” Hugo teased.

“It is rather rude of you to exist, be perfect by everyone else’s rules on paper, not already be mated, and for neither of us to be interested in the other.”

Hugo laughed so loudly that everyone gave up giving us the illusion of privacy, demanding to be let in on the joke. Fortunately, he adeptly redirected them in a firm yet charming way that no people-pleasing omega could have ever pulled off.

Spencer brought up some hideous story from their boarding school days that was probably meant to be charming but would have almost certainly landed anyone from a less affluent family in prison, and I leaned back in my seat, content to just observe.

Mating an alpha like Hugo would cement this life for me. This future. I suspected that the others—or at least Stasia and Ivy—met up a lot without me, because I was the awkward one who didn’t have a partner to balance out numbers. My social life would probably flourish if I took The Right Kind of Mate.

But if this was what flourishing looked like, I was fine withering.

I liked my friends, but we had increasingly less in common. The food was delicious, but the private dining room felt a little suffocating. The ankle straps of my heels felt like they were getting tighter with every second that passed.

Maybe I was just getting old. I wanted to go home to my cosy nest, and my silk pillowcases, and my industrial strength retinol.

If tonight had solidified one thing for me, it was that this wasn’t how I wanted to spend my future Saturday nights. I’d already come to terms with giving up Om-Guard, but this was a brand new challenge to face.

Chapter 11

BLAKE

“Why don’t you go out today?” Dad suggested, handing me a cup of tea as I walked into the kitchen. “Enjoy your day off. Frey wants to spend the day with me, don’t you, Frey?”

“No,” she replied, not looking up from her colouring. “I want Uncle Blake to ask his friend, Inika, to come over and play restaurant with me.”

“She’s not really my friend, Frey,” I replied, immediately regretting it as my niece looked up, giving me a sharp-eyed look.

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