Pack wild a why choose o.., p.1
Pack Wild: A Why Choose Omegaverse, page 1
PACK WILD
Riley Keenan
Copyright 2023 by Riley Keenan – All rights reserved.
It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format without prior written permission from the author.
Chapter 1: Adeline
Chapter 2: Adeline
Chapter 3: Adeline
Chapter 4: Adeline
Chapter 5: Kael
Chapter 6: Zane
Chapter 7: Rowan
Chapter 8: Adeline
Chapter 9: Kael
Chapter 10: Zane
Chapter 11: Rowan
Chapter 12: Adeline
Chapter 13: Adeline
Chapter 14: Adeline
Chapter 15: Adeline
Chapter 16: Adeline
Chapter 17: Adeline
Chapter 18: Adeline
Chapter 19: Adeline
Chapter 20: Kael
Chapter 21: Adeline
Chapter 1: Adeline
The laughter and chatter that filled the ornate corridors of our family mansion might as well have been in a world apart. I was secluded in the sanctuary of my dressing room, as removed from the celebration as one could be while still within these walls. The masquerade ball, an event that had been weeks in the planning, was due tomorrow.
"Madam," my chief lady-in-waiting, Anne, murmured, assisting me into an extravagant gown that shimmered like a starlit night.
My image reflected in the standing mirror was startling. The delicate tulle layers floated about me like ocean waves, glistening with an overlay of intricate gold embroidery. Aesthetic appeal aside, each fold and stitch was a manifestation of the stifling conventions of our society, of the cage my lineage had bequeathed upon me.
"Perhaps a few pearls to accentuate the décolletage?" suggested another lady, Margot, holding up a delicate string of pearls, each as flawless as the last.
I nodded, letting out a quiet sigh as the weight of the pearls settled against the cool silk of my gown. The beauty of my attire didn't escape me, but my discomfort was growing, seeping into my consciousness like ink in water.
"You truly look the part, Mademoiselle," Anne cooed, eyes filled with honest admiration.
Feeling smothered, I forced a smile. "Thank you, Anne, Margot. You've outdone yourselves. But could I have a few minutes alone?"
They exchanged glances but nodded, exiting the room and leaving me to my solitude.
The room, usually a haven, now felt suffocating. The gilded mirror, the silver brush sets, the ivory combs – everything appeared to be glaring at me. My reflection seemed foreign, my hazel eyes wide and unmoored. My fingers traced over the golden embroidery as I struggled to draw a steady breath against the constricting corset.
My silent contemplation was broken by a soft knock on the door. Expecting my ladies to have returned, I called out, "Enter." To my surprise, my older sister, Beatrice, slipped in, her eyes gentle.
"I thought I might find you here, Addie," she began, her tone soft as silk. Her nickname for me, a deviation from the formality my world was steeped in, brought a touch of warmth to the chill settling in my heart.
“Everyone seems to be looking for you. Even Aunt Gertrude has risen from her habitual perch by the fireplace. I barely managed to escape her.”
Her light jest brought a reluctant smile to my lips. "I can't imagine Aunt Gertrude on the move, Bea."
Our shared mirth faded, and a quiet settled between us.
Beatrice moved closer, her expression turning serious. "You look beautiful, Addie. But those eyes... they're not yours. They're frightened. What's wrong?"
"I feel..." I swallowed, trying to find the right words. "I feel trapped, Bea. I am dressed in this beautiful prison, but it's a prison all the same."
Beatrice's face softened. "Oh, Addie," she sighed. "I know how you feel. These balls, this life...it's not you. You'd rather be free, running through the gardens, or reading by the pond. But remember, these gowns don't define us. They're a symbol, yes. But underneath it all, we're still us."
She placed a comforting hand on my arm as she continued. "I know it's hard. But remember, you're stronger than the corset that confines you, brighter than the diamonds that adorn you, and freer than society would have you believe."
With that, she left, leaving me in my solitude again. No sooner had Beatrice’s footsteps faded than my phone lit up, slicing through the quiet. A bright, bold, and altogether familiar face filled the screen. Jake, my confidant, my partner in crime, my beta best friend.
His greeting was a burst of effervescence, "Hey there, Miss Pouty Face!" His voice, jovial and unrestrained, felt like a warm splash of color in my muted room.
"Jake," I returned the greeting, unable to keep a smile from my lips. He always had that effect on me.
He appraised me through the screen, his eyes narrowing in mock scrutiny. "Jeez, Addie, you look like you're off to the gallows, not a masquerade ball."
His attempt to lighten the mood elicited a soft laugh from me, but the cloud hanging over me refused to dissipate. Noticing this, he launched into tales of his recent exploits, his voice an animated rollercoaster of intonation and expression.
From drunken karaoke nights to impromptu road trips, his narratives were a world away from my gilded cage. Jake, being a beta, lived on his own terms, unfettered by the alpha-omega hierarchy of our society. The vibrancy of his tales highlighted the stark contrast between our worlds.
"I can't, Jake," I finally blurted out, unable to hold it in any longer. He paused, surprised by my interruption but patient. My words tumbled forth like a torrent, a waterfall breaking through the dam of decorum I'd been forced to uphold.
"I can't bear this," I confessed. "This constant need to be perfect, to conform, to fit into this suffocating mould the world has made for me."
He listened intently; his usual vivacity replaced with an understanding far beyond his years.
"Addie," he began after a moment, his voice soft yet resonant. "I know it's tough for you. I'll never fully understand your world, but I get it, somewhat. The pressures, the expectations – they're a lot. But remember, you're not just an alpha’s daughter or an omega's. You're Adeline, and that's who you need to be."
"But how, Jake? How do I do that when my every step, every breath is dictated by these roles?"
"You navigate it. You carve your path through the jungle of expectations, but you never lose yourself in it. You respect their world, but you don’t let it consume you. You are more than this, remember that."
His words, though simple, rang true. I opened my mouth to respond, but a knock on the door cut me short.
"Adeline," came my father's voice, firm and resonant. "Your mother and I need to speak with you."
A frisson of anxiety crept up my spine. "I have to go, Jake."
His eyes softened on the screen. "You've got this, Addie. Remember who you are."
With that, I ended the call, leaving the screen dark and my room colder, despite the golden hues that bathed it.
A deep breath steadied me as I prepared myself to meet my parents, two living embodiments of the societal constraints I yearned to break free from.
The atmosphere inside the room was heavy with anticipation, the kind that feels like a storm cloud hanging over your head. My parents, Bernard and Penny, had that serious look on their faces, the one that sent a ripple of dread coursing through me.
“Adeline,” my father started, his baritone voice cutting through the tense air, “have a seat. We need to talk.”
Their faces were set in sombre lines, etching an unspoken promise of a profound conversation into the grandeur of the room. I obeyed, settling myself onto the velvet-upholstered settee opposite them.
“Adeline, there are certain expectations you must understand,” my mother started, her normally warm hazel eyes reflecting the same seriousness as my father’s steely blue gaze.
“Expectations?” I echoed, my heart drumming a nervous rhythm in my chest.
“Yes,” my father said, his fingers steepled in front of him. “You are a child of alpha and omega parents, and as such, our society requires certain conformities from you.”
His voice was low, authoritative, and carried a weight that instantly translated into a dread that clawed its way up my spine.
“What kind of conformities?” I asked, my voice steady, even though a storm was starting to swirl inside me.
Mother shared a glance with Father, then continued. “Potential alpha suitors, for one.”
I felt a cold sweep of shock. “Suitors?”
Father nodded, his face an impassive mask. “Yes. And a carefully planned future that includes an arranged mating, to fortify our family’s position.”
The revelation struck like a bolt of lightning, its echo reverberating through the silence that fell afterward. I swallowed, trying to process the enormity of what they were saying.
“It's about duty and honour. To maintain our family's prestige, to uphold our societal norms,” my mother said, her voice trembling slightly. “You’re expected to carry on our lineage, and your mating to an alpha from a prominent family is essential for that.”
They paused, waiting for me to absorb this revelation. I felt like a bird trapped in a gilded cage, yearning to spread its wings and fly but chained down by its circumstances.
“That’s why we’re holding the masquerade ball,” my father added, his vo ice like a death knell in the silence. “It’s the perfect occasion for you to meet these eligible alphas.”
The reality of their words hit me with a brutal force, stealing my breath away. They had planned my entire life without considering what I wanted.
“But they’re strangers,” I managed to choke out. “People who are here for our wealth and status rather than any genuine affection.”
My mother reached out, placing her hand on mine, a silent plea in her eyes. “It’s the way of our world, darling. Personal feelings come secondary to duty and societal norms in our world.”
“Is that how it was for you?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
There was a long pause before my father nodded. “Yes, it was. And it worked out, didn’t it?”
But had it, really? From where I was sitting, it looked more like two people making the best out of the choices made for them rather than genuine happiness.
A bitter pill lodged in my throat, a dense mass of objections I longed to voice. But no words came out as I watched my parents, who sat across from me, firm in their resolve. Their words still lingered in the air, like spectres that refused to fade.
“And remember,” my father added, his stern eyes boring into mine, “you are an alpha’s daughter. Our world has its rules.”
Their gazes, heavy with expectations, finally left me as they stood to leave. The grand door of the room closed behind them with an ominous creak, leaving me alone with the deafening silence.
My eyes fell on the intricate golden embroidery of the drapes, the chandeliers dripping with crystals, and the art-filled walls of the room. They all screamed opulence and power, a tangible reminder of the world I was born into. But I yearned for something else, something beyond this gilded cage. A life where I could be Adeline, not just an alpha’s daughter. A life shaped by my dreams and desires, not by societal expectations.
“Oh, Adeline, your life is set!” I could almost hear the echo of my mother’s words. But it wasn’t my life. It was a path they had carefully carved out for me, a well-trodden road they wanted me to follow without question.
In the solitude of the room, surrounded by a world that was as cold and unyielding as the marble floors under my feet, a longing pulsed inside me. A longing for a life defined by who I was, not by what I was born into.
“Can I not be more than an alpha's daughter?” I whispered into the silence, my words hanging in the air like a plea.
For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine a different life. One where I wasn't confined by societal norms, where I was free to chart my own path. But my reflection in the mirror was a haunting reminder of reality—a reality where my life was not my own.
Next evening, I was driven to the mansion where the ball was supposed to take place, which swirled with sombre excitement, the grandeur soaked in the golden glow of the setting sun. Opulence radiated from every inch, seeping into the heavy velvet drapes, shimmering off the crystal chandeliers, and reflecting in the gilt mirrors. Yet a disquiet hung in the air, a tension I could taste, bitter and persistent. The murmurs of the mansion staff and the clinking of glass and silverware punctuated the silence as they hustled to put the final touches for the masquerade ball.
As I stood by the window, looking out at the dusky sky, my dress shimmering in the fading light, I felt the weight of the expectations pressing against me. Each sequin, each stitch, and every strand of my carefully styled hair was a symbol of the societal mould I was supposed to fit into.
The door swung open, and a vibrant burst of colour broke through the monotonous palette of the room. Jake swept in, dressed in a patterned suit that was as loud and exuberant as his personality. His flamboyant demeanour felt like a breath of fresh air within the mansion's austere atmosphere. My heart, which had been beating a heavy, anxious rhythm, fluttered at the sight of my best friend.
"Adeline! Ready to break a few hearts tonight?" Jake declared with a wide grin, brandishing the delicate mask in his hand like a trophy.
"I'd rather break a few societal norms," I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes.
Jake shook his head with a laugh. He stepped forward, attempting to tie the mask around my head, only to get tangled with the laces.
"Jake, I swear you can fix a car but not this?" I teased, giggling at his concentration-laden face. His futile attempts and animated exclamations filled the room with laughter, a welcome respite from the apprehension that clung to me.
We continued our playful banter as he managed to secure the mask on my face finally. The masked reflection in the mirror was a stranger, dressed in finery and hidden behind a false facade, much like the life I was leading.
Jake held my hand, his warm grasp a reassuring anchor in my sea of doubts. "Whatever happens tonight, remember, you're more than this world wants you to be. More than an alpha's daughter, more than a fancy dress. You're you."
Jake, always the entertainer, then launched into his latest anecdote about Pack Wild. I had heard snippets of their tales before, whispers about a group of alphas living in their forest home in the outskirts of the city, who defied society's norms to live life on their terms.
"Adeline, you wouldn't believe the stuff these guys get up to. It's like they're living in another world altogether!" Jake said, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he spoke. "Their leader, Kael, is this tall, ruggedly handsome alpha with eyes that can pierce your soul. And get this—he isn’t the only alpha in the pack. There's Zane and Rowan, two other alphas who share the leadership. It's a unique power dynamic, something unheard of in the structured hierarchy we're used to."
His voice filled the room, weaving an enthralling tapestry of wild escapades, stirring moonlit encounters, and the raw, feral existence that the alphas embraced. The world Jake painted was wildly different from the gilded cage I was entrapped in, their freedom and camaraderie forming a stark contrast to my reality.
However, as enticing as his stories were, the mention of alphas stirred something unpleasant within me. My skin prickled, my heart pounded against my ribcage like a caged bird, and I abruptly interrupted Jake.
"I don't care about alphas!" The sharpness of my tone surprised us both. The laughter died, replaced by a palpable tension. His brows furrowed, clearly taken aback by my unexpected outburst.
"Oh, Adeline, I didn't mean to—" he started, but I shook my head, interrupting him.
"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's just, these last few days have been overwhelming. The thought of my life being mapped out by my parents, the idea of mating with an alpha I barely know... it's all too much."
Jake listened quietly; his flamboyant energy replaced by a serene calmness as I bared my soul. Just as he was about to respond, his gaze strayed to a nearby mirror. The sight of his reflection, reflected in the ornate gilded frame, momentarily distracted him.
"Adeline," he started, a sincere tone in his voice. But then he paused, his eyes narrowing at his reflection. "Do you think this tie goes with my suit?" His words, trailing off into a mumble as he began fiddling with his brightly coloured tie, were a stark contrast to the serious conversation we'd just had.
The hilarity of his distraction made me chuckle, a sound that seemed almost foreign in the hushed room.
"Jake, you could make a potato sack look fashionable," I responded, unable to suppress my laughter.
He flashed a brilliant grin at my comment. "Well, that's a relief!" he replied, tugging his tie into place before striking a comical pose in front of the mirror.
Before long, it was time to face the crowd of strangers waiting for me. Jake offered me his arm, his vibrant suit a bright splash of colour against my delicate ballgown, and together we descended the grand staircase.
The ballroom doors loomed ahead, a formidable barrier separating me from the rest of my life. As the doors swung open, revealing the lavishly decorated ballroom, a rush of nervous anticipation surged through me. I gripped Jake's arm tighter, drawing comfort from his reassuring presence. He winked at me, his flamboyant confidence infectious, and we stepped into the sea of faces.
Jake quickly melted into the crowd, his colourful personality drawing people towards him like moths to a flame. I found myself alone, standing amidst the swirl of satin gowns and tailored suits. For a moment, I allowed myself to simply observe, savouring the sweet tranquillity that the hustle and bustle of the ballroom offered.
