Page 14 of The Omega

5

Atlas

The cloying smell of females nearing their heat and the stench of posturing males mingled with the sweat of tension and pheromones rising in the ballroom. My wolf was fired up and restless, pacing the confines of my human mind and pressing against the tightness of these stupid formal clothes.

We didn’t belong here.

It was unnatural, pitting all these dominant, horny young males against each other to vie for ripe females’ attention. As if we’d just pair off into even numbers and that would be the end of it.

Humans and their dumb way of thinking.

We had animals within us.

We weren’t actual animals.

Or at least some of us weren’t.

I snarled as I walked by Dorian Bailey, almost wishing he’d smashed into me so I had an excuse to act. I’d been walking on eggshells the past few months every time I’d had to communicate with that arrogant beast.

Challenge him and be done with it. My wolf snarled, continuing to pace within.

Normally, my wolf wasn’t so hot-headed. Animalistic instincts only got us so far as Alpha. We’d learned the art of self-restraint a long time ago. That set me apart as an Alpha and put me in a position to lead Volk Pack fairly with a firm and gentle hand.

There, we didn’t treat our females like this, putting them on display and making them prove their worth. If anything, it was the other way around.

I made sure to get their input on how best to lead them. The elder dams would have my hide if I so much as disrespected a single female of my pack.

And my wolf would let them skin him alive.

But I won’t stand for this.

We have to. I remained steady as I kept walking away from Dorian and headed toward the bar.

My wolf had wanted me to tear Dorian’s throat out the minute he’d set foot on my western borders, declaring land I maintained and cared for as his.

Instead, I was here, playing a game I’d never wanted to play, all to make sure that bastard stuck to the rules and did things right. One slip up and I could force his entire pack back where they belonged—somewhere far away from mine.

There are always the Alpha Games.

Maybe. I thought about going that route, but I wasn’t sure if my pack was ready to accept the wild Bailey Pack into their midst. Because if I formally challenged Dorian, I’d be responsible for his pack once I killed the fucker. Not that I’d deny them, if they needed my help. I’d already opened that door and none had taken the offer.

They wanted to stick with him. That was fine by me. There had to be a way to get him to move on. I’d find it. Like I’d found the loophole proving he wasn’t a legitimate Alpha in the first place.

True, he biologically presented as one. But Bailey Pack wasn’t even a pack in the traditional sense. It was a troupe. A moving rag-tag gang of mismatches with no Alpha in recorded history. They had no territory. No pack structure. He didn’t even have a Luna.

The government had no choice but to accept my petition. They’d granted him one year of leniency to get his affairs in order before he’d be forced to leave.

One season.

I swore I wasn’t here to sabotage it, but man, did I get the itch.

“Atlas Volk. There you are.” A cameraman stepped in my path, thrusting a small, fuzzy microphone into my face. “You’re a hard Alpha to find.”

I nodded once. We’d kept our pack out of the spotlight for many years now and liked it that way, which made coming to this stupid show all the more ironic. Dangerous, even.

I cast a glance at Dorian again, barely resisting the urge to snarl.

“Now we get to finally ask the question that’s been on everyone’s mind.” The cameraman redirected my attention, causing my blood to run cold. Ken and Mike had assured me we wouldn’t have any interviews about my past and that of my pack. It was in our legally binding contracts. I had their word.