Page 35 of The Omega

A few frustrated Alphas turned my direction at the sound of Ken calling my name.

I adopted a cool air of indifference as I strolled through the chaos. Some of the more affluent Alphas thought I was beneath them, resenting having to listen to me at all. I was an anomaly. An Alpha born without an Alpha father, adopting a pack title based upon my name alone.

Maybe they were right about my pedigree, but I didn’t care. It’d been an interesting few weeks where I learned most of their Luna contestants were starving for affection. Bailey Pack might not have a lot to offer a Luna—I was currently still working on securing our territory for good—but I could guarantee I’d turned down the most invitations to warm their females’ beds since the show started.

Now I somewhat pitied them.

They’d have to look like fools and fight their way through the coming days without knowing if they’d even find their mates. I had mine. I only had to make it official and then protect her throughout the remainder of the show.

I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder.

She’ll be watching.

And I had a plan to make it worth her while.

“Are you sure everything is going to work out?” Ken spoke from behind his smile as he pulled me near his side.

“They’re as ready as I could get them,” I reassured the producer again, ignoring a few of the curious stares being sent my way.

It wasn’t like I’d asked for this role, but I had a reputation to uphold despite the circumstances.

Speaking of circumstances… My wolf curled his lips in a snarl as Atlas pushed his way backstage.

“Almost all of them are ready,” I added.

Atlas Volk hadn’t attended the sessions. He’d taken one look at me leading the training and then left. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why Ken and Mike were giving him special treatment. It wasn’t as though Atlas came from one of the more affluent packs. Plus, Atlas was an asshole. Ken was not.

“I wish we could’ve run a rehearsal on film.” Ken helped fix a weight that had fallen from the rolling cart. “This will be fine. Right? For TV?”

“You’re the television producer, not me.” I shrugged, wincing when I scented his putrid fear intensifying. “I mean, it’ll be fine. A show is a show.”

And it all looks grandiose when you’re in the front row…

My attention caught on the parted curtain that one of the sound crew left open a second too long.

There she is.

Opal breezed into the auditorium wearing a simple black dress that left her arms bare and hung loose, hinting at her shapely figure underneath. Her raven hair was in waves around her shoulders. Those big blue eyes searched the curtains as if she could see beyond them.

She was looking for me.

My wolf howled his approval.

“I want Opal Morganton in the front row.” I licked my dry lips, feeling a strange sensation swirl in my chest. Not awful, more like a tug.

The color drained from Ken’s face. “The Omega? Front row? Why?”

“Just do it or I walk out of here,” I growled, acting the part everyone expected of me. The petulant performance artist prone to mood swings. While I’d normally try to dispel those stereotypical notions, nothing else mattered now that I’d caught her sweet scent.

“A favor to return the favor,” Ken said, eager to keep the peace. He spoke some directions into his headset to get Opal where she needed to be.

“Good man.” I clapped his shoulder. “I promise you and the viewers are going to love what happens next.”

*

“Twenty Lunas passed the games, earning their spots on this year’s Mating Season, plus one very special addition who was robbed of her chance at love last season.” Jay Renfro stood center stage under the pulsing glow of the spotlight as a soft beam danced over Opal and a cameraman crouched low on the ground near her feet.

Her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of red.