Page 75 of Bonds of Hate

One by one, she lines up enough cosmetics on the counter to turn an entire army into pretty painted ladies. Brushes of every size, palettes in rich jewel tones, and bottles that sparkle with promises of perfection. The methodical way she arranges everything speaks of years of practice.

Physical presentation had been a required class at the Enclave. I’d passed with the highest marks, just like I did in everything else.

“I can do this myself,” I insist, reaching for an eyeshadow palette.

Saffron slaps my hand with a foundation brush hard enough to sting. “Not quickly enough. And I promise you’re not better at this than I am. No one is.”

I glare back at her in the mirror, studying in her face. Damn it all, but her own makeup application is basically flawless.“You don’t even like me. How do I know you won’t mess up my face on purpose?”

She actually looks offended. “And why would I do that?”

“Huh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve been a grade-A bitch from the moment we met.”

“Oh, that was just me getting in your head.” She waves that concern away like the last few days are already ancient history. “We’re not in competition with each other anymore, so now it’s all good.”

“What do you mean we’re not?—”

Saffron hooks one finger on the collar of her gown to tug it aside. There, stark against her pale skin, is a claiming bite, evidence of the newly forged bond between her and anAlpha. The mark is still the pink of new skin, but the edges have already started to heal into delicate silver scars.

“Prince Nikolai and his pack.” A genuine smile lights up her face. “My heat was triggered almost as soon as I met him, so I never even left the palace after the interviews. It’s been pretty amazing, actually. The announcement will be made at the gala tonight.”

I can’t tear my eyes away from the mark. This is the first one I’ve seen live and up close. “Can you hear his thoughts?”

“Not at all,” she laughs. “But I do get impressions. Emotions, mostly.”

“Oh.” I finally meet her gaze as she adjusts the collar of her gown to cover the bite. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she replies pertly. “Now, let’s get this done.”

Faster than I want to admit is possible, she puts a rosy glow back in my sunken cheeks and brightens my haunted eyes.

Fishing in the bag, she pulls out a large-barreled curling iron. “Does your pack like your hair better up or down?”

“I have no idea.”

She gapes at me in the mirror. “They didn’t give you a list of their preferences?”

My expression gives me away. A normal mating contract negotiation would have included a discussion of personal preferences: clothing and style, among them. Some Alphas want their Omegas stereotypical, all sundresses and hair done in beachy waves with television host makeup. Others would wrap their Omegas up in a shroud if they could so no other man ever gets the chance at so much as apeek. It was a way to show the Omega how her Alphas expected her to be viewed by the world, which was ultimately just a reflection of how they viewed her.

Pack Logan made sure I knew exactly which sexual favors they expected of me, down to the nittiest and grittiest detail. But hey had never once expressed even passing interest in the face I showed the world, unless it might reflect badly back on them.

Because they don’t particularly care about me at all.

“No,” I finally say. “They didn’t give me any preferences.”

Saffron clears her throat as she plugs in the curling iron. “We’ll split the difference, if that’s okay with you.”

I nod, keeping my gaze fixed on my own grim expression. “Fine.”

Her gaze passes over the skin revealed by the simple dress I’m wearing, obviously noting the complete lack of claiming marks. “How have things been for you with Pack Logan?”

“Fine.”

“Really? I’ve heard…things. Everyone in the palace talks, I hope you know that.”

I meet her gaze in the mirror with narrowed eyes. “You really don’t have to do this. We aren’t friends.”

“We could be.” Saffron rolls her eyes when I scoff. “Have you really never seen mated Omegas together before? I don’t know who you think is going to understand any better what you’re dealing with than one of us. Unless you’d rather go chat with some of the harem betas.” A note of disgust enters her voice and I get the impression she is speaking from personal experience. “I promise those bitcheswould claw your eyes out if they thought getting rid of you would let them take your place.” She grabs a piece of my hair hard enough to make me wince and she murmurs an apology. “Most of them think being Omega just involves a bunch of coddling and fancy jewelry. They have no idea what it’s really like for us.”

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