Page 1 of Luna

Chapter1

Luna

Ineeded magic in my life.

Things should have been easy for me. My family owned a matchmaking business, Cosmic Bonds, where, in addition to extensive personality tests, we focused on tarot readings, birth charts, and the healing properties of crystals.

When my designation as an omega had come in, I’d thought love was just around the corner.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Being an omega had only made me more sensitive to the overpowering scents of alphas and, coupled with my painful shyness, I’d struggled to find a pack where I felt comfortable.

The one pack I’d dated for any length of time had made it clear that they thought there was something wrong with me. Mark had said I was too sensitive. Thomas had thought I didn’t have a high enough sex drive for them. Ron had felt I was somehow too adventurous but not adventurous enough. The list had got longer, and longer, slowly chipping away at how I dressed, what movies I watched, their snide comments and “concerns” eroding who I was as a person.

After almost a year of trying so hard to jump through every hoop they set for me, I’d realized I would never be enough.

I might have been a slow learner, but I did eventually figure it out. It had been almost a year since I’d broken things off with them and since then I'd been trying to rediscover myself. Part of that was rediscovering my need for magic. I had settled for the magical delights of the Las Vegas Strip since I’d been old enough to enjoy everything it had to offer.

Even though I lived in Half Moon Bay, California, I came to the Strip every year for the massive Garden Show. It was worth putting myself through the stress and annoyance of travel. And this year, as an added incentive, I’d decided to treat myself to my favorite illusionist act while I was in town. That was why I was now in the lobby of the sprawling Planet Hollywood Hotel complex, waiting for the doors to open. Even so, I wouldn’t be going into the theatre until just before the show was about to start.

Cool air swirled through the space, pushing back the humidity that tried to creep in from outside, and mostly moving on the scents of the different designations. Trying to stay away from the crushing impact of all those scents, I hovered at the edge of the shopping outlets that stretched between the reception area for the hotel itself and the entrance to Zappos Theater.

The show I was there to see, Edge of Illusion, starring Dante Trent, was perfection. He was popular, but not mega-famous. I loved how the show felt accessible in a way that mega popular illusionists didn’t.

When I'd booked my annual trip to attend the Garden Show, I'd made sure to get tickets to Dante's performance so I could experience the hotter-than-Death-Valley alpha in person. I’d seen him on TV, and he was amazing, and I had been so excited when I heard he was performing in Las Vegas.

The only drawback was that I was nervous about being in a large crowd. Hanging out in the lobby was one way to prevent a panic attack from being in a giant room full of strangers, especially when I was still hot and tired from a long day of browsing through the Garden Show, regardless of how satisfying that had been.

The lobby was filled with people of all ages and designations. A giggling group of beta girls dressed to the nines in sequins hovered near the casino entrance, and an omega and alpha were staring at each other with sexy intent near a large potted Philodendron. The scents of alpha, beta, and omega mingled until it was impossible to tell who was what, the ventilation working overtime to stop everyone choking on scents.

I didn’t like being an omega.

I should try to embrace my designation like my cousin Ember, or at least learn to accept it, like my older sister Stella.

But I hated it when random alphas propositioned me just because they caught my scent.

I looked around the lobby and moved closer to one of the large stone columns around the edge of the space, made to look like they were holding up the roof. The press of bodies when people bumped into me, the scents of betas, and the less common alphas and omegas, was a whole lot of confusing information to sort through. Coupled with the sounds of lots of people talking at once, I was ready to hide in a dark, quiet place.

I barely liked making small talk at the grocery store, let alone a massive hotel lobby. Listening to an overbearing man vividly describe how hard he was going to pound into me when I was just trying to buy some orange juice was the worst. Many alphas, or at least the sort to proposition me in the grocery store, thought it was perfectly acceptable for them to be lewd. After all, I was an omega: didn’t I want their sort of attention?

Absolutely not.

My older cousin, Raina, managed to keep most people at a distance when we were in public because she was a female alpha. One hard glare from her and people went in the other direction. I almost wished she was with me now.

My phone chimed, and when I checked my messages I saw that the group chat with my sisters and cousins was blowing up. All because I was out in Las Vegas, by myself. Ember had been supposed to come, but instead she was at home with the flu. The messages ranged from telling me to make sure I knew where my drink was at all times, to encouraging me to find a sexy alpha and having a wild weekend in Vegas.

I snorted. Like that would ever happen. I’d barely tolerated the pheromones of the pack I’d dated before. I couldn’t imagine being attracted enough to some random alpha for a “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” weekend. The only alpha whose scent had ever held my attention was back home in California, working at my favorite nursery. And Halos and I were just friends.

I looked down at my phone and sighed. I was an adult, but my family acted like I’d never been out on my own before.

Just because it was true didn’t mean I liked the reminder. Between two sisters and four cousins I didn’t lack in the overprotective relatives department.

It didn’t help that I was the youngest, or that all our parents had died in a plane crash when I was just ten. I was the baby of the entire family, and they made sure they took care of me.

I shifted against the stone column, moving back so I was further away from the crush, and touched the crystal hanging from my necklace. I took comfort from the small piece of amethyst, even though, out of all my family, Stella was the best at working with crystals.

My passion was plants. A lot less mystical than reading tarot like Ember, but I loved spending my time in the garden.

The pack I’d thought I would end up with hadn’t liked me being a gardener. Omegas don’t get their hands dirty, Mark would say, and curl his lip. From the time we started dating right up to the messy break up, there had been a never-ending commentary about dirt under my fingernails.

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