Page 13 of The Omega

But it didn’t stay on for long.

Chaos ensued as the door was wrenched open and hands pawed at my waist, freeing the belt and hoisting me to my feet.

I struggled against them out of instinct, trying to draw on the strength of my wolf, who was shaking under her paws. “Hey, wait a—”

“No time.” A male cried out, hurrying ahead of the team of security guards that carted me along as easily as they did my duffle bag.

Paranormal? My wolf sniffed.

No, he was definitely human. He had a hint of magic to him, but he wasn’t a shifter. His auburn hair swept over his forehead, pushed back as if he’d run a hand through it many times, and his eyes were kind, but his movements were frantic as he waited on the front porch of the resort.

“I’m Kenneth. Call me Ken,” the man said by way of greeting as he held open the door.

“The new producer?” I tried to slow down, tried to be polite and shake his hand. We’d spoken on the phone briefly, but I wanted to make a good impression so he would hopefully not try to sacrifice me to the wolves like his predecessor had done.

“And there’ll be a new producer next year if we don’t hurry.” His nervous laughter followed me down the hall.

Where is the threat? My wolf sniffed again. We didn’t like to see others worried or scared. My fingers itched to reach out and soothe him.

But the scents of fear were replaced with the vaguely familiar punch of hairspray and makeup and stress sweat.

“Five minutes,” Ken spoke into his headset, shifting from foot to foot as he attempted to smile.

“Five minutes until…?” I left the question hanging in the air as I looked around.

The dressing room was empty. Smells lingering were hours old. The last time I’d been here, we didn’t have any events this late at night. Or none that I was there for anyway.

“Now, don’t freak out,” Ken’s smile was more of a grimace and it did nothing to ease my current freak-out, “but we decided it’d be best to give you a Cinderella entrance.”

“Cinderella went to a…” I swallowed. The pieces clicked into place and my wolf’s eyes widened as she prepared to howl.

We get… To go to… The…

“I don’t have anything to wear,” I whispered, too afraid that if I spoke out loud then the magic dream would pop.

“It’s all taken care of.” Ken’s gaze flitted past my shoulder and relief lit up his face.

“Good thing I remembered your size from last season, since Genie grabbed that Versace gown from the basement.”

I turned, coming face to face with a cheetah shifter who had glowing green eyes and beautiful blonde hair. But the golden boy image stopped there. The rest of him was all frayed jeans and worn Vans. He looked like he’d just rolled in from a back alley somewhere, but at least he was familiar.

“And what was Genie thinking, putting you in blue?” His cat-like eyes appraised me. “You belong in red.”

“Jesse. What are you doing here?” I smiled, thinking back to last season when he’d been Aspen’s stylist. He was amazing. My wolf yipped her excitement.

“Fulfilling the role of fairy godmother... again.” Jesse hung a garment bag on the hook behind him and backed me toward the vanity chair. “Sit.”

He’s pushy for a fairy. My wolf stopped her frantic jumping around to comment on the cheetah shifter. But Genie was bossy too.

Stylists. I shrugged.

“I’ve got it from here,” Jesse told Ken. The chair spun around as Jesse whipped out his tool belt, brandishing a makeup brush in my direction. “We’re going to move fast, so I don’t want any lip. If you’ve got complaints, save them for later.”

I nodded, not wanting to do anything to interrupt his work, and was rewarded with a relieved grin.

“Good girl,” he said as he opened a palette. “It makes it so much easier when they don’t put up a fight.”

My wolf let out an excited howl as I clamped my lips tight. Why would we fight when we get to go to a real-life ball?!