Page 2 of The Honor of Being Hers
Support.She wasn’t sure whether that meant the symposium’s new Omega-friendly protocols, scent-cancellers in the ventilation systems, designated quiet spaces, respectful interaction guidelines, or the fact that her four closest friends would be there.Probably all of these things.
“Sam’s already booked the hotel,” Kyle said, as if reading her mind.“She’s promised to bring her special teas, even if she only drinks the lavender stuff.Sarah’s coming too.Justin and Rachel reserved a table near the front, so you don’t have to make the walk alone.”
Lauren stared down at the pastry, the way the sugar glistened along the folded crust.It was absurd how well they knew her.How much they had prepared for things she hadn’t even admitted to fearing.
She hadn’t been forced to interact with unrelated and unmated Alphas in years.Not since high school, when Ryan Monroe had made her life hell with his casual cruelty and Alpha posturing.The way he’d cornered her after classes, demanding she explain her homework answers, then mocking her when she stammered through explanations.The way he’d made her feel small and stupid and desperate to please him even as he tore her down.It had driven her to an online university course, to mathematics instead of the linguistics she’d originally loved, to building walls so high that few couldn’t climb them.
The idea of walking into a lecture hall filled with Alpha academics—her chest tightened, not just in panic, but also anticipation.That twitchy kind of alertness her body gave her when something might trigger her instincts.When she might find herself nodding along to mediocre ideas just because an Alpha voice delivered them with confidence.
“I don’t want to owe anyone,” she murmured.
Kyle’s voice was quiet.“You won’t.You have people who want to help you.That’s entirely different.”
A silence settled between them.Not heavy.Not expectant.Just real.
Finally, she unsealed the envelope.The paper was thick between her fingers, expensive and smooth, with the subtle texture of linen fibers woven through the cream-colored stock.It tore with a whisper rather than a rip, the sound almost reverent in the quiet room.The invitation inside was printed on heavy cardstock, all clean lines and professional typography, the ink slightly raised from the letterpress process.Her fingertip traced over the embossed text as she read the formal language, which somehow managed to be both an invitation and a challenge.
She didn’t go because they asked; no, they demanded her presence.She went because something inside her, the steady, curious part, finally wanted to prove she could.That she could walk into a room full of Alphas and hold her ground.That Ryan Monroe’s legacy didn’t get to define her forever.
And that, more than fear, was reason enough to pack a bag.
2
The hotel lobby smelled like cedarwood diffusers and filtered confidence.Polished concrete floors stretched beneath soft Persian runners, the latter’s wool dense enough to muffle the click of heels.Sleek lighting cast everything in a honeyed amber glow, while curated touches—cashmere throws draped over steel-framed chairs, and velvet cushions in jewel tones made the space feel expensive without being warm.Lauren’s boots echoed a little too loudly as she stepped inside, her suitcase trailing behind her.
She took a long, deep breath and held it, testing the air.The scent layers here were faint due to the expensive cedarwood from reed diffusers, and underneath, the faint, bitter tang of ozone-clean air from the scent cancellers, which meant serious money had been spent on neutralization systems.
“Lauren!”
A blur of warm wool and clove-scented hair collided with her a second later.Rachel, who was tall and elegant, with dark hair pulled back in her signature low chignon, was wearing the kind of perfectly tailored coat that spoke of her consulting success.As always, the hug came first, talk later.
Her coat smelled like skin musk and orange blossom—safety, memory, structure.Lauren folded into it instinctively, pressing her nose into Rachel’s scarf as her ribs loosened.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Rachel murmured.“Kyle texted an hour ago.He says your room’s been cleared.”
“Thanks,” Lauren said, pulling back.
Her cousin had been her unofficial handler since her late presentation, equal parts Alpha bloodline and overqualified event babysitter.If anyone could keep a well-meaning academic from wandering into her space, it was Kyle.
Justin swept in next.Willowy and graceful with platinum blonde hair and the kind of bone structure that belonged in magazines.He was all silk and sass, with a scent that smelled like bergamot, vetiver, and perfectly cooked sugar.He pulled her into a hug, kissing the side of her head.
“You’re luminous, darling.A little haunted, but in a sexy post-thesis sort of way.”
“I’m not haunted,” Lauren mumbled.
“You’re brilliantly exhausted.That’s a different category.”Justin stepped back and took a long, appraising look at her.“Nevertheless, you’re here, and we love that for us.”He finished with a smile.
Samantha arrived last, petite with soft brown curls and kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses that matched Lauren’s own.Gentle and quiet as ever, she pulled Lauren into a warm, enveloping hug that smelled like lavender and clean cotton.“I’m so proud of you for coming,” she whispered against Lauren’s hair.
The four of them stood together in a loose, casual circle, the way only true friends did, present but not intrusive, supportive without ceremony.
Eventually, Samantha brushed her arm.“Want to go up?Your room’s ready.”
Lauren nodded, throat tight with the kind of relief that never asked for attention.
The elevator ride was quiet and peaceful.Lauren’s room was on the twelfth floor, overlooking the conference center’s gardens.She dropped her suitcase by the bed and took a moment to breathe in the neutral air, letting her shoulders drop for the first time since arriving.
They had about an hour before the opening reception.Lauren showered, changed into her conference outfit, a tailored blazer over dark trousers that made her feel armored and professional.She was touching up her makeup when Kyle knocked on the door.
