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Blair’s chest warmed. Really, she should have guessed he already had this covered. He always set out to ensure every ride went as smoothly as possible for her. “Thank you. I’m sorry she can be such a pain in the ass.”
“You’re not the one who needs to apologize.”
“No,” Blair agreed. “But she’ll never do it.”
“I don’t want or need an apology from her. I have what I want and need. You. That’s all that matters to me.”
Damn her chest warmed even more. He was going to turn her into such a girl.
“But I do regret that you don’t have the support of your parents. I had thought they’d eventually come round. Maybe one day they will.”
“I’m not holding my breath,” she muttered.
He gave her hips a gentle squeeze. “Come on, let’s get our asses to the Tavern. The sooner the party’s over with, the better.”
“Why?”
“Because seeing you in this dress only makes me want to strip it off your body so I can feast on every inch of you.”
Her lower stomach clenched, but she only said, “Interesting.”
“Interesting?” he echoed, his brow creasing.
“Kind of.”
He snapped his teeth at her cheek. “We’ll see if you still merely find it ‘interesting’ later.”
They walked hand in hand to the Tavern. Most of the pride’s celebrations took place there. It was also their local hangout and—being a bar, pool hall, and restaurant rolled into one—it had a little something for everyone.
Entering the Tavern, Blair was hit by the scents of leather and oiled wood. She glanced around. It hadn’t changed since she last came. Sports paraphernalia and widescreen TVs still hung on the brick walls. Bulky armchairs the same burgundy as the leather cushioned booths still dotted the space. There were also heavy tables, a small arcade area, a stage, and a row of pool tables.
The bartender, Gerard, stood behind the bar wiping glasses. The only other people present were the omegas—all of whom had organized the event. They were currently fussing over some of the decorations.
There were lots of decorations. Balloons, lanterns, garlands, votive candles, and cascading lights. The color scheme seemed to be silver, black, and champagne gold. A tinsel curtain had been attached to the wall behind the buffet table, and a balloon arch surrounded it while tissue pompoms and spiral swirls dangled from the ceiling above it.
Touched, Blair swallowed. They’d really gone all out. Maybe for her sake, maybe for Luke’s—it didn’t really matter either way to Blair. She was still grateful.
Spotting them, Bree smiled. “Hey.” She crossed to them and pulled Blair into a hug. “Love that dress.”
“Thanks,” said Blair. “Love the shoes.”
“They’re fabulous, aren’t they?” Bree gave Luke a quick once over, her nose wrinkling. “You’ll do.”
His brows flew up. “I’ll do?”
The omega snickered. “I’m kidding, you scrub up well.” Bree looked from him to Blair. “Right, everything’s in place. The DJ is ready, the karaoke machine has been dragged out—Elle insisted on it, so don’t blame me—and there’s enough food that there’ll be plenty even though we’ll have four wolverines in attendance. You two will position yourselves by the door so you can greet each person who enters.”
Blair nodded. To date, she’d met every member of the Olympus Pride at one point or another. But tonight, it would be different. She’d be meeting them as their Beta, not merely Luke’s mate.
If any were dubious about having her as Beta female, she hoped they hid it well. Not that she needed to feel she had anyone’s approval, let alone everyone’s—Blair didn’t seek validation from others. Also, she understood it would only be natural for some to have their doubts, given her age. But it would offend Luke, and she didn’t want that.
“Thank you for the effort and time you put into this,” Blair said to Bree.
The feline smiled, flapping her hand. “No thanks necessary. It’s only right that we welcome you to the pride in style. Let me formally introduce you to the other omegas before everyone else arrives.”
Luke watched as Bree called the small group over to them. His insides relaxed when the omegas were nothing but sweet and friendly toward his mate. He felt her restlessness begin to ease.
Blair might claim she wasn’t particularly nervous about the party itself, but he wasn’t convinced. He wondered if, on a subconscious level, Noelle’s dark whispers were now playing on Blair’s mind, making her expect negativity where there’d hopefully be none. After all, if someone told you something often enough, the concept could start to slip into your thoughts and muddle them.
Honestly, there were times he longed to throttle Noelle even as he understood her motivations. He knew about loss and grief. He knew that the death of someone close to you could make you overprotective of your other loved ones; could make you desperate to keep them close. Much of his need to cosset Blair admittedly stemmed from that. But whereas he worked to ensure that he didn’t subsequently smother Blair, Noelle quite simply didn’t allow herself to acknowledge that that was exactly what she was doing.
