The Arrangement (Omegas of Hunter's Point Book 1)

Chapter 25

Von drifted awake to another knock at her bedroom door. Dragging herself out of bed, she cracked the door and found another tray, this one with sourdough toast points, sausage, and eggs. A bottle of orange juice rested alongside the plate, as did her little bottle of hot sauce.

It made her smile, even as she picked at the plate without much of an appetite. Some girls got expensive jewelry or designer items out of their wealthy boyfriends. Von's baked apple torts because he missed her scent and remembered she liked hot sauce. That beat lavish gifts hands down.

She smacked herself on the forehead. Damian was not her boyfriend. She wasn't sure what the five hells he was to her, but he was definitely not her boyfriend. That title came with expectations and implications as his girlfriend, ones she was unsure if she'd ever be ready to fulfil. It was best not to label things at all than to label them incorrectly and ruin whatever it was they had with false hopes for things that could never be. If he ever found out why her scent was wrong, he wouldn't want her. Her own father rejected her because of it. Why wouldn't Damian?

It would certainly uncomplicate things if he knew. Things would get very simple very quickly. Still, she couldn't bring herself to tell him.

Why not? If she was so sure that they couldn't be anything, then why not cement it? Tell him and be done with it. Let him know exactly the kind of tree he was barking up, and let him come to the same conclusion on his own. Problem solved. They could still be friends. Maybe.

Ugh, friends. There was a mislabeling if she'd ever heard one. They could never be just friends. They'd gone too far for that, and nothing in her would allow that extreme a downgrade of whatever it was they had to something as pedestrian as friendship.

She loved him. She didn't doubt that for a second. But what the hells was she supposed to do with those feelings? They couldn't be a mate-pairing for real, because that would end in a claim. She couldn't allow a claim until she was sure she could dedicate herself to domestic goddess-hood with her whole heart. However, she wanted him to be more than her friend. What did that leave for him? They couldn't stay this weird, hybridized couple forever. Or could they?

Gods, they really were a fucking mess.

Whatever she was going to decide, she'd need to do it sooner rather than later. If Damian's petition was as far along as he'd intimated, then he'd have a decision from the courts soon, and he seemed confident he'd be getting the desired result. With that, their arrangement would be complete. She'd be expected to move out and move on, to what she wasn't even sure anymore.

She shook her head again to clear it. Leave the long term for the long term. Focus on the more immediate things first. The gala. That was tonight. Get through that first. Then, sit Damian down and try to puzzle shit out together. A fresh perspective was needed. Maybe he'd considered aspects she hadn't and vice versa.

To do any of that, she'd need to leave her room.

Von stacked the trays and gathered up the empty dinner dishes and the picked over remains of the breakfast dishes to go down to the kitchen. Damian had to have left for work by now. Cautiously opening the door, she listened. Silence.

Coming down the stairs, she noticed the elevator was standing open, and inside it was a large green dress box wrapped with cream-colored ribbon. Depositing the trays and stack of dishes on the kitchen island, she rounded back to the elevator to retrieve the box. She hadn't ordered anything, yet across the top in an elegant, stylized script, was the name of a well-known women's fashion house. Tucked into the ribbon was a card:

Dearest Goddess of Spring,

Pick you up at 7.

-God of the Underlands (Damian)