Page 35 of Want It All
My chest went light with happiness. I hadn’t realised how worried I’d been until the weight lifted.
‘Ninety-three,’ Sebastian said. His expression was a mix of pleased and disgruntled.
‘Ninety-one.’ Tristan glanced at his beta. ‘Good job, handsome.’
I looked across at Byron, who hadn’t bothered to check his mark at all; he was smiling, a soft, knowing smile that tied my insides in knots. ‘You got ninety-four, didn’t you?’
I flushed.
‘Congratulations, Rose,’ he said roughly, and my body went hot from his praise. His eyes flickered to Tristan. ‘Told you that you’d be a threat to anyone.’
I spent ages picking an outfit, because I’d never been to an adult party before, and I didn’t really have the right clothes. I didn’t even know what the right clotheswere. I eventually settled on a cream-coloured smock dress, paired with some Roman-style sandals that laced to the knee. I left my hair down and added some gold eyeshadow, then dabbed a light stain into my lips, hoping it wasn’t too much.
I made sure, too, that my underwear were the new ones I’d bought before coming to Banksia, with the most up-to-date, slick-proof lining, and that my skin was coated in scent canceller. I sprayed myself once I’d dressed for good measure, then dabbed some synthetic perfume on my wrists.
When Byron knocked on my door and his eyes went heavy at the sight of me, I stopped caring about whether my outfit wastoo much.
There was something so powerful about making his heart beat faster; something powerful andaddictive.
‘Rosebud. You’re killing me,’ Sebastian said from behind him, raising his eyes to the moulded ceiling. He wove around Byron to grab my hand, pulling me into the hallway. Byron closed my door, then checked it was locked. He was wearing his customary black, though he seemed to have donned slightly shinier boots for the occasion. Sebastian, however, was in chinos and a linen button-down, his sleeves rolled up in a way that had no right to be so enticing. Tristan was wearing something similar, only in lighter tones. His hair fell forward over his glasses.
It hit me, then, how beautiful he was. Sebastian was so blindingly lovely that he all but eclipsed everyone around him. Tristan’s beauty was quieter, all angles and shining curls, all calm self-assurance and piercing green eyes.
I swallowed.
‘We’ve got you,’ Sebastian said comfortingly, and tucked me into his side.
Everyone had spoken about the commencement party in vaguely hushed tones, as though it was a secret, but there was no way the staff didn’t know. Two unfamiliar, muscled alphas stood outside the entranceway, clothed all in black, their shirts proclaimingSECURITY. The First Year Library was lit by fairy lights and LED candles, and there was a tonne of food – clearly made in the Banksia kitchens – arranged on the study desks. The chairs we used in class had been pushed along one wall, leaving an open space that students were already using as a dance floor. The speakers Professor Heathcote used had been co-opted for a playlist; dance music pumped through the room.
James waved from where he, Pravin, and Alessia stood next to a study table, which held a huge bowl of what looked like the anticipated sangria. There were canned drinks in bowls of ice, too; I grabbed a gin and tonic with a silent sigh of relief. It didn’t matter that I was with alphas – I couldn’t afford to drink something without controlling the alcohol content, let alone something that might have been spiked.
There were a few more security alphas scattered unobtrusively around the room, and I spotted Marina in a corner, making out with Jasmine, a third-year student. There was a lot of it going on, but I supposed it made sense. Before designations emerged, people would have gotten this out of their systems by our age, and many would have had steady jobs, or even been parents. But in the post-Unveiling age, it took so long for our bodies to adjust to the new hormones and instincts that it was almost like we prolonged our early twenties, as if we were trying to catch up on the things we’d missed while we were at home sweating and crying through the adjustments to our unreliable bodies. It wasthequestion of contemporary psychology: whether we, collectively, would ever really recover from the emergence of our designations.
I thought about it often. It was all too easy to remember thebefore, when I was simply a woman with a faint, sweet scent and regular periods. When my mind didn’t blank if I caught an alluring scent; when I didn’t slick with arousal, but simply got wet.
When I didn’t turn into a sex-hungry demon once every three months, begging for a bite. When I could have fucked someone and have it be simplythat– a fuck. Not the potential for a lifelong, irrevocable bond via an alpha’s sharp teeth if they lost control.
When I didn’t have to take a cocktail of medications every morning to make sure those thingsdidn’thappen.
I took a mouthful of my drink, trying to push the thoughts away. There was no going back; I could only make the best of what I had.
Byron smiled at me, his dark eyes almost black in the dim room, the angles of his face lit by flickering fairy lights, and I knew it wasn’t all bad.
Tristan pulled Sebastian close, muttering something in his ear before he gently pushed his beta towards the dance floor. ‘Dance with me!’ Sebastian hollered over the music, and at first I wasn’t sure who he was talking to – not until he grabbed my hand.
I let him pull me into the small crush of students, trying to avoid pressing against other people’s bodies until Sebastian carved us a space, right in the middle. He danced like he did everything else: perfectly. My limbs went tingly and hot watching him, seeing his hips move, his body swaying to the beat, my eyes tracing the curve of his throat as he threw his head back.
Fuck, the things I wanted to do to that neck.
Contrary to popular belief, omegas could bite, too. We could forge bonds just as strong as an alpha if we bit first, tying a pack together with an omega at the centre, rather than a dominant alpha. But because so much about omegas was still tangled up in historic gender norms, the popular imagination cast us as soft, submissive, small; as people who were made to follow, not lead. It didn’t help that our instincts sometimes forced us into obedience over bravery, and our heats made us dependent on others, but those things didn’t mean we wereweak, and they definitely didn’t mean that we couldn’t lead.
Bite the pretty beta, my omega purred.
My teeth ached, but I pushed the feeling aside, determined to have a good time. I wanted to be no more than a woman dancing with the ridiculously handsome man in front of her. I didn’t needa designation for that, or a claiming bite – just some music and to move my body.
Sebastian grinned at me, and I echoed his movements until we were dancing. He stepped closer, his eyes on my face, and it was like the day at the beach all over again. A pull towards him tightened in my chest as he slipped his arm around my back and tugged me forward, bringing our bodies together.
I could feel himeverywhere.
