We turned around in our seats and watched as she entered with Linda and her alpha female friend. Marlowe was wearing a skin-tight, little black dress with off-the-shoulder sleeves, a silver choker necklace, and sky-high platform black heels.
There was no way she had picked that outfit herself, and I could only assume it was the Conclave’s doing. The silver collar especially was a cruel accessory, taking away her power and freedom to shift. I couldn’t wait to rip it off her neck.
Camden, Archer, Elias and I got up to embrace her but her guards stepped in between us.
“We’re really sorry,” Linda explained. “But she’s not to be touched by anyone other than the Conclave until this is over.”
“This is bullshit,” Marlowe cursed under her breath, her arms crossed and hands rubbing up and down her cold, exposed skin.
It felt like I was going to explode if I didn’t get her into something warmer and more comfortable immediately. This day was already miserable enough as it was, and those fuckers had chosen to only humiliate her further. What kind of alpha would want his omega to suffer for his own pleasure?
Cam growled his feelings but Marlowe’s guards tightened their circle. “We know, we know,” the other one, Diana, responded. “But if we don’t play by the rules, the Conclave could void the Rite and then you’d be really out of luck.”
He kept his eyes on Marlowe as he angrily shoved off his suit jacket. “Is her freezing to death a part of the Rite, too?” He shoved it in Linda’s arms.
Her lips flattened and she nodded, handing it to Marlowe before walking up to Julian. She tapped him on the shoulder, and he opened his eyes and took out his earbuds. “Oh, hi Detective Oakley.”
“I just wanted to wish you good luck,” she winked, holding out her hand. He took it, looking confused for a moment until a small smile of understanding grew on his face. Linda returned to Marlowe, who was now wearing Cam’s jacket and inhaling our pack leader’s scent deeply, and walked to the other side of the room where the dais for theConclave was waiting.
“What was that about?” Cam asked, looking at Julian.
He opened his palm to reveal a freshly scented handkerchief. He brought it to his nose and took a deep breath, and looked over at Marlowe now sitting across from us. She blew him a kiss and waved, and my chest tightened.
Julian would win. Hehadto win, there was no other option for us.
Fifteen minutes remained until the start of the Rite, and the room was almost full of competing packs and audience members. The sound of the females outside crescendoed, screaming their protest chants in greater earnest.
A loud bark telling them to shut up and move marked the arrival of the Conclave.
The crowd hushed when they entered. Thorne wore his Dress Blues, Hartwell a wool suit, Grimm was decked in jeans and a t-shirt under a suit jacket, and Vaughn wore jeans and a leather jacket. Eamon Frost, their champion, looked like a Russian mobster in his dark green tracksuit, cracking his knuckles and scowling at Julian.
Thorne’s eyes narrowed as they landed on Marlowe, a slight snarl tugging at his lips. Shifters parted for them as they walked across the room and took their seats around her on the dais, but Marlowe held her head high and refused to acknowledge them. She crossed her arms and her legs, her gaze trained ahead towards us.
A bell rang signaling it was time to begin, and the priestesses closed the door. General Thorne stood up, holding out his hands to quiet the crowd.
“Fellow shifters! Today marks a new chapter in our history, one that will serve as a return to our true nature and traditions. For too long our kind has suffered the loss of our powers, of our connections to the wild and the wolves that live within us. For too long have our packs been deprived of the stability and happiness that omega bonds provide. And for too long have we eschewed our hierarchies in favor of assimilating with weak human culture. We have pushed back our instincts and what has it gotten us?”
The room was silent as he surveyed the crowd. “Diddly squat,” joked an alpha near the back.
“That’s right, it’s gotten us nothing!” he bellowed. His voice echoed in the large room, the dominance rippling like waves from where he stood. “Today, we stop masquerading as humans in our own cities and spaces. Embrace your power, embrace your strength, andfight for the omega bond that will complete you!”
The alpha packs stood and clapped, howling and cheering, while Marlowe simply looked at her nails as though she couldn’t care less. Thorne turned towards her and said something sharply. She rolled her eyes and stood next to him, waiting for the crowd to settle again.
“I was told I’m supposed to wish all the competitors ‘good luck,’” she said. Noses lifted around me, alphas sniffing the air as she spoke. “And honestly, I’m not sure why. I bonded with Pack Wolcott and they’re the only alphas I’ll ever recognize as mine. If anyone else wins today, I’ll dedicate my life to making yours a living hell. So, Julian? Good luck, all my love goes to you. And to the rest of you? You can go fuck yourselves.”
Hoots and hollers erupted from the females in the audience. Thorne grabbed her arm and yanked her back down into her seat. whispering something angrily in her ear. But she did not react; she just looked straight ahead, her expression neutral.
Her defiance scared and awed me. How she was able to withstand his alpha bark was nothing short of miraculous. Did it have something to do with her supposed power from the prophecy? Or was it because she wasn’t bonded to him?
Then again, I had a feeling the only reason Marlowe obeyed our barks was because she wanted to.
Cam got up and stood behind Julian now, rubbing his shoulders and giving his own last advice and words of encouragement. Julian simply nodded, his eyes locked on Marlowe.
She returned the stare and smiled.
The priestess came forward and rang a small gong. “Competitors one and two, please enter the ring.”
“Alright Julian, you got this!” I said, clapping my hands.
