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Nothing more than a case of "my stepdaughter is in the spotlight and not me," of course.
After that, it was one long string of excuses for why it wasn't a good time for me to debut again. Jasper has a game, Lily has a recital, Tristan is taking his finals.
Eventually, it was put off for so long that the bids from alpha packs asking for my hand started rolling in anyway, debut or no, and my father insisted it would be an embarrassment to revisit the matter. And "pointless," since it clearly wasn't hurting my prospects.
Easy forhimto say. An alpha lives his whole life in the spotlight, but there are few occasions in an omega's life just for her.
Vivienne might have ruined my debut, but even she can't stop me from enjoying my future mating ceremony. And now I know to make sure no one serves her a single drop of alcohol when the time comes.
A sharp rap at the door startles me from my reminiscing. I smooth my dress and take a deep breath, plastering on my most winning smile before swinging it open.
My half-brother, Tristan, fills the doorway with his broad shoulders and cocky grin. His chestnut hair is artfully tousled, falling into a face that probably has all the omegas at his college swooning.
If only they knew the real Tristan.
"They're ready for you downstairs," he informs me, his eyes flicking past my shoulder to land on Addison. I don't miss the way his gaze lingers, a flicker of longing in those hazel depths.
Too bad, so sad. Addison has made it abundantly clear she'd rather make out with a cactus than give him the time of day.
"Thanks," I say breezily, turning to Addison. She pulls me into a tight hug, the scent of her suppressant, something dark and spicy, enveloping me.
"Remember," she whispers fiercely in my ear. "Don't settle. No matter what."
"I won't," I promise, giving her a final squeeze before pulling back. I square my shoulders and head for the stairs, passing Lily in the hallway.
"What's the scoop, Scrap?" I ask under my breath.
She wrinkles her nose. "He's old."
I falter, blinking rapidly.Old? That can't be right. The Blackwood pack are all in their twenties. Lily must have misheard.
I descend the stairs, my heels sinking into the plush carpet runner. The murmur of voices grows louder as I approach the living room. I pause in the doorway, my gaze sweeping the room.
My father and Vivienne sit on the loveseat, glasses of amber liquid in hand. And across from them, in the wingback chair...
Is a lone alpha male who is most definitelynotone of the Blackwood boys.
He's handsome, with steel-gray hair and a chiseled jaw, but he has to be in his late fifties at least. Confusion swirls through me. Where is the rest of the pack?
"Ah, Evangeline," my father says in a warm tone he reserves for when there's company around—unless he's talking to one of my siblings—standing from his seat. He beckons me forward. "Come in, come in. I'd like you to meet Carl Blackwood."
CarlBlackwood? As in the patriarch of the Blackwood family? My heart sinks into my kitten heels as I step into the room, dipping into a practiced curtsy. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Blackwood."
"The pleasure is all mine," he says, rising to his feet. He takes my hand, his palm dry and cool against my skin as he brushesa kiss across my knuckles. "I must say, you're even lovelier than your reputation suggests." He releases my hand and gestures to the empty armchair beside him. "Please, have a seat."
I perch on the edge of the chair, hands folded primly in my lap. Vivienne takes a sip of her drink, her critical gaze raking over my outfit. I brace myself for a cutting remark about my curves not fitting into the latest fashion, but mercifully, she stays silent.
For now.
"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Blackwood," I say, focusing on Carl. "I have to admit, I'm a bit surprised. I was under the impression I'd be meeting with the pack."
"All in good time," he assures me with a chuckle. "I wanted to meet the young lady who's been shrouded in such mystery first. Your father mentioned you never had an official coming out, which I found... intriguing."
My cheeks heat and I shoot a glance at Dad, who shifts uncomfortably. "Yes, well, it was most unfortunate timing," he says. "My wife took ill the night of the event."
Carl tsks sympathetically. "I'm so sorry to hear that. I do hope she's recovered now?" He glances at Vivienne with what seems like genuine concern.
"Oh yes," I say, my voice saccharine. "It was the most miraculous recovery, seeing as she was right as rain the very same evening."
