* * *
It’s the big day,and my stomach feels like it’s full of writhing snakes. I’ve met everyone important. We did Marcus’s family on Tuesday. Sam’s on Wednesday. Mine on Thursday. And Tom’s on Friday after the last one landed from England. The hardest part is over. So why do I still feel like throwing up?
“Here.” Sam shoves a glass of champagne into my hand, and I down it like a shot. The bubbles fizz in my nose and make me want to sneeze. “Hmm.” He hands me his too, and I swallow it in two gulps. “Nervous?”
I pat my mouth with my fingers, careful not to smudge my makeup. “How can you tell?” I ask, my question dripping with sarcasm.
There’s a knock at the dressing room door, but they don’t wait to be told to enter. The door opens, and my parents step in, not bothering to close the door behind them as they gape at the room. “Mom! Shut the door.”
She huffs and rolls her eyes, then smiles as she looks me up and down. “Relax, honey. It’s fine.”
It’s not fine. Nobody else is supposed to see me before my father walks me in. Sam is only allowed because I’d probably be collapsed in a puddle of skirts in the corner if he weren’t, and Marcus understands even if he doesn’t get it. Social anxiety isn’t something you can really explain to someone who doesn’t have it.
“Oh, sweetheart, you look so beautiful,” my dad says as he comes over and grabs my hands, holding them. His eyes grow damp and glassy as he makes me twirl for him. “My little girl’s all grown up.”
“That dress is gorgeous,” my mother says. “It’s very flattering. You can’t even tell you’re wearing shapewear underneath. Is the waist a little too tight, maybe? Any big news to share?”
I bite back a scream, my nostrils flaring as I keep a smile plastered to my face. “It’s just the style, Mom. It’s supposed to be fitted.”
She grabs my hand from my father’s grip. “Let me see that ring again. It’s huge! I don’t know how you get anything done with that heavy thing on your hand. What do you do all day?”
“Mrs. Thorne,” Sam says, stepping in. “You look stunning in blue. Did you know that? It makes your red hair look absolutely vibrant. May I show you to your seat? It’s about to start.”
My mother pats her dyed hair and blushes, giving Sam a coy smile. “Oh, you’re so sweet. Of course you may.” She takes his arm, and he walks her out.
Sam looks over his shoulder, and I mouthI love youto him. He winks and shuts the door behind them.
“Are you happy, sweetheart?” my dad asks.
“I am. I really love them.” I touch the bite mark, still healing at the base of my neck. It barely shows through the lace neckline of my dress.
He nods and holds his arm out. “Then chin up because that’s all that matters. Come on now. Every journey starts with one step.”
I glance at my reflection in the large gold-framed mirror and smooth a nonexistent wrinkle from my skirt and take his arm. He leads me into the hallway, and the coordinator spots me, running ahead as fast as her heels let her. We walk slowly to give her time and to keep my train from catching on anything. Right as we turn the corner to the entryway, the music starts.
My heart slams against my ribs, the snakes in my belly wrestling with the butterflies as my hand goes clammy in my dad’s soft grip. The attendant throws the door open, and my dad walks me in.
“Please stand,” the officiant says.
All eyes turn as we enter the crowded ballroom and everyone rises. Marcus, Tom, and Sam all stand in a row at the front of the room. They’re so handsome in their matching black tuxes, a pink bud pinned in each of their buttonholes.
There’s a floral arrangement suspended from the high ceilings to mark the spot, as if I could miss it when my mates stand there, beaming at me like I’m the most beautiful creature they’ve ever seen. Marcus’s face crumples as he tries to hold it together, the love he’s pouring through our bond so strong I forget to breathe. Tom reaches up and rubs his back, and Sam grins like he finds this all very amusing.
My dad stops us right in front of them.
“Who gives away this omega?” The officiant asks.
“I do,” my father says. He kisses me on the cheek and goes to his table, taking his seat next to my mother.
“Who receives her?”
“We do,” Marcus, Tom, and Sam answer in unison.
“Take each other’s hands and form a ring. A ring is a symbol of eternity, for it has no beginning and no end, just as the love you four have has no end. Together, you will share your sorrows. Your joys. Your burdens and your dreams. Together, you are stronger than you ever were apart. You may kiss your omega.”
Marcus tugs me in first, his kiss sweet and the bond full of love. He puts a hand on the small of my back and cradles me to his chest. When he lets me go, Tom grabs me next. He drops me into a dip, his lips capturing mine as I squeak. He takes advantage of my parted lips by sliding his tongue against mine as he deepens the kiss until I’m breathless. The room bursts into cheers, and my face is hot when he spins me upright and passes me to Sam. Sam catches me with both arms around my waist and kisses me until the room stops spinning, his forehead pressed to mine when we part.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have the honor of introducing the Misters and Missus Orello.”