Page 16 of The Omega

I was drawn through the crowd like a moth to the flame, stepping out of the shadows.

Her ruby red lips smiled at…

My wolf growled as I tore my gaze away, following her new line of sight. She bestowed that sweet smile on none other than Dorian Bailey.

The possessive growl that tore from my beast caused a nearby Alpha to sprout fur, snarling as he looked for a threat.

Me. I was the threat.

And I was going to tear this whole place apart if I didn’t get to my mate.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Lunas and Alphas,” Jay Renfro was still speaking as I elbowed my way through the crowd. “The producers have given us a treat. Opal Morganton, Omega and fan-favorite from Season 7, will be joining us as an honorary Luna for Season 8 and claiming her rightful spot on the show.”

It was so quiet you could’ve heard a pin drop.

I fought through the roaring growl of my wolf in my ears, trying to remember the pieces of the speech—Opal, Omega, Mate—and confused as to why they weren’t cheering, weren’t bowing for the beauty standing in the spotlight in the center of the dancefloor.

The floral stench of the room turned more sour by the minute, but I could taste it up ahead.

Softly feminine and sweet like cotton candy. Summer. Freedom. Her scent was everything good in this world. But something was wrong.

Opal frowned, nervously clutching the sides of the red dress as Jay Renfro continued to walk away.

Her heart fluttered so hard I could hear it from here. I tore through the last of the crowd, shoving a chair out of the way to get to her. She was scared. Alone. In front of all these shifters.

Have to protect her. Need to save our mate.

I wrestled my wolf as I stood at the edge of the dancefloor, sucking in a sharp breath as Opal looked my way.

And her eyes lit up again.

A soft smile played on her lips.

I coughed to clear my throat, needing words that failed to come, and then coughed again as I lifted my hand, “Hello—”

“May I have this dance?” Dorian’s suit blocked my view of Opal as the snake slid in front of me.

The howl of my wolf was loud enough to split my eardrums. I yanked the beast back from taking over, from shifting on the ballroom floor and tearing Dorian’s throat out to watch his blood soak Opal’s dress.

This wasn’t me.

We didn’t lose control.

She’s mine. He’s touching what’s mine.

Get a-fucking-hold of yourself!

I fought my own monster as I dragged us both back to the shadows, white-knuckling the shift while Opal’s rich and feminine voice came as a teasing mockery when she told Dorian, of all shifters, “Thanks for saving me.”

6

Opal

Someone pinch me. My wolf swooned.

Holy goddess, this was crazy.

Yes, most of the females in the room probably wanted to kill me, but I couldn’t focus on that right now. Because I’d caught their scents—both of their scents—the minute I’d stepped foot onto the red carpet.