Page 11 of Lavender and Honey

My father's reaction was swift, a silent storm brewing behind his eyes before it broke through the facade of calm. "Enough," he barked, each syllable a thunderclap that resonated against the walls. The scent of pine and old leather seemed to thicken, becoming an olfactory shroud that constricted around me. The weight of his presence bore down on my chest, pressing the air from my lungs as if to remind me of the power he wielded, not just as my father but as an Alpha whose word was law. His towering figure loomed over me, and for a moment, the urge to cower, to recede into the safety of submission, prickled at my skin. But the paint beneath my fingernails served as a reminder of the passion burning within, a passion that refused to be doused by fear or familial duty.

"You will do as you are told," he continued, his tone brooking no argument, "or, as I said before, you can leave this family and never come back. You will be shamed and no longer use any of the resources you once used.” He was talking about the ‘friends’ he had that helped me spread my art. It is how I squirreled away a good amount of savings without them knowing.

The finality of his ultimatum echoed through the cavernous room, settling into my bones. The air in my lungs felt like ice. His words, a sentence passed down without appeal, shattered the last fragile hope that love might yet temper their rigid beliefs. “ Then I guess I don't have a family anymore," I said, the truth of it clawing its way out, leaving me raw and exposed.

A hush fell over the room, so profound I could hear the crackle of the fire mockingly whispering freedom. My mother'sface contorted from its usual composed mask to one of shock, lips parted as if to call back the reality we had all just let slip. My father's eyes blazed with a ferocity that spoke of battles, of territory marked and defended, and now, of bloodlines severed by defiance.

"You'll regret this, Lydia," he snarled, his voice a low rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of our home, his scent souring as I tried not to flinch at the snarl he had let loose.

Heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribcage, I spun on my heel, the hem of my skirt sweeping the floor as I hastened away from them. Tears clouded my vision, each step forward a blur of gilded frames and haughty ancestral faces that lined the hallways. They stared down at me, generations of Alphas and their obedient Omegas, their silent judgment piercing through my already fragmented resolve. How many of them had stood where I stood, forced into submission, their true selves eroding with time?

I rushed past, my sobs muffled by the thick tapestries adorning the walls, their threads woven with the same ironclad expectations that now sought to bind me. The opulent decor, once a testament to our family's stature, now seemed nothing more than a gaudy facade for the prison it truly was— a cage for an Omega who dared to dream.

Pushing open the heavy door to my bedroom, I grabbed the bag I kept under my bed. I had kept it there for emergencies. I had known there could be a possibility of me needing to escape quickly if things went bad with how they have been pushing for me to mate. I just didn’t think this would happen so quickly. I knew I couldn't go back to my art room to get my phone, but that was fine.

I pushed myself to move quickly to leave the house, I could hear the arguing voices of my parents echoing through the halls as I escaped into the night, the cool air striking my tear streakedcheeks. I didn't look back; I couldn't. If I did I might cave in and go back to my parents. I had to stay strong.The heavy door thudded shut behind me, its finality echoing in my ears, a resolute period at the end of a sentence I had been forced to recite my whole life.

“Keep going,” I muttered to myself. My feet pounded against the cobblestone path, the rhythm erratic and unsteady as my mind reeled with the gravity of what I'd done. The shadows cast by the moonlight stretched long and twisted across the grounds, mirroring the gnarled knots of fear and defiance that entangled my heart.

"Lydia, come back here!" The voice of my Mother was distant now, muffled by walls and windows that could no longer contain me. But there was no turning back. Not anymore. The estate gate loomed ahead, an iron sentinel standing between me and my freedom. I pushed through it, the metal cold and unforgiving beneath my hands as they shook.

I continued on, pushing myself to keep moving. I didn’t know how long I had been walking. My mind was in a daze as the tears had all dried up. The rumble of an engine cut through the stillness of the night, a solitary sound against the backdrop of silence. I barely registered the noise, my mind still trying to process what I had done.

Suddenly, warmth enveloped me, strong arms wrapped around me making me flinch back, as the sound of my friend, Avery’s, voice reached my ears, “Hey, it's okay. It’s me. What's wrong? What happened?”

She knew how my family life was, she was my only friend. A Beta, which is the only reason they approved of her. She wouldn't be in the way of them trying to marry me off.

“You didn’t answer my calls so I thought I should come see you in person.” She spoke soothingly, as she scented me, trying to calm me down as I was probably letting out a distressed scent.

“I left… I stood up to my parents… after what happened with the last Alpha pack… they wanted to mate me off to them.” I babbled, trying to explain things as fast as I could without breaking down.

“Dad said I had to choose… I would mate with that pack or not be a part of the family anymore…” I gave a low whine from the back of my throat as I looked up at Avery, her face hardening as words spilled from my lips, “I couldn't do it. I grabbed my emergency bag and ran…I couldn't do it.” Another high pitched whine left me, as Avery pulled me back into her embrace as I started crying again.

"You did the right thing," Avery murmured into my hair, her breath warm on my scalp. The conviction in her voice seemed to battle the storm inside me, striving to reach some untouched corner of my soul. "You did the right thing, Lydia." I wanted to believe her, to let her words be the salve to the open wound in my heart.

Gravel crunched under Avery's shoes as she shifted our stance, "It doesn't feel right," I choked out between gasps for air, my voice raw from crying. The stars glimmered overhead, indifferent witnesses to my unraveling. "I've lost everything."

I blinked away tears, as I let her lead me to her car. I let her take my bag as she gently guided me to sit down and shut the car door. She put the bag in the backseat and moved to the driver’s seat. Avery's gaze held mine, softening as she pulled me towards her car, "You haven’t lost everything."

"You still have your art," Avery continued, their voice imbued with a gentle firmness. "And you’ll find more," She promised, her conviction wrapping around me like a protective cloak. "You’ll find people who love you for you, not for who they want you to be… and you will have me."

The words resonated somewhere deep inside, echoing against the walls I'd built to contain my Omega identity— a label thathad defined me in the eyes of others, but never fully captured the essence of who I was.

"Thank you.” I told her, grateful I had met her and that she was my best friend. She seemed to always be able to calm me down.

Avery smiled, “You don’t thank me for being by your side…” She paused as she put the car in drive, and pulled onto the road, as she drove away from my…no, my parents house, “So… where are we going?”

I looked at the dark road, the headlights from her car the only thing around us besides nature. I didn't know where to go. I took a deep breath before I made an impulsive decision.

"Let's see where this road takes us," I murmured to myself— to the dawn, to the world. The road stretched on in front of us. I will keep moving forward.

Chapter Seven

Iawoke to the gentle cascade of morning light streaming through my curtains, its soft glow mingling with the early heat that, despite its warmth, failed to ease the burning sting along my sensitive scent glands. I winced as my fingers brushed over the tender skin, the cream I had applied the night before now aggravating rather than soothing the raw irritation. Today was Monday— my cherished day off— and I had resolved to give my scent blockers a break, to let my skin finally breathe. But deep down, I knew this respite was unsustainable. I needed a new solution, one that wouldn’t feel like coarse sandpaper scraping against my neck.

With deliberate calm, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and sat quietly, allowing the weight of the decision to settle in. I would need to venture to a neighboring town in search of an alternative— perhaps a gentler cream or even a more refined stick. Haven’s Rest was too small, its offerings too limited,forcing me to step further out of my comfort zone than I was accustomed to.

After a brisk, refreshing shower, I carefully selected my attire: a loose, soft sweater that promised to caress rather than irritate my skin, and a scarf that I let hang loosely around my neck instead of wrapping it tightly as usual. The very idea of constricting fabric over my agitated skin made me wince. I gathered my bag and keys, pausing at the door as I noted the unsettling absence of the faint chemical aroma I’d grown used to— an aroma that, while not ideal, had always provided a sense of familiar protection. Exposed and vulnerable, I felt as if every step outside might reveal the tender parts I’d long kept hidden. But the discomfort in my skin outweighed any lingering apprehension in my heart; healing had to come first.

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