Page 37 of The Omega

“Lunas and viewers at home,” Jay announced from his corner of the stage. “We now present Alpha Atlas Volk from Wyoming.”

There were fewer whistles from the Lunas in the stands, as if Atlas had failed to make an impression on them. But that was okay. I cheered louder, ignoring the sense of eyes glaring at me.

I knew what it was like to have no one to cheer for you from the crowd. I’d be damned if I let my mate feel that way.

He was ridiculously hot. I didn’t know why the other Lunas weren’t drooling.

Because they’re blind.

Atlas stood on stage wearing dark jeans and a black thermal knit shirt. His face was shaven clean and his hair was freshly cut. With narrowed eyes, he scanned the audience. I figured there was no way he could see us out here past the lights and shadows, but his eyes seemed to lock on mine and my heart skipped a beat as a small smile turned his lips.

I bit down on my own lip, feeling butterflies dance all over my skin as he walked to the microphone.

“I don’t usually do stuff like this,” Atlas’s deep voice echoed even without the amplifier.

He was nervous. I could tell.

“Come on, sweetie. It’s all in good fun,” a Luna called from behind me.

I withheld my wolf’s snarl of jealousy as the crew held the cue cards up for us to remain silent.

But Atlas didn’t seem to hear the other Luna. His eyes never moved from the spot they were fixated on, where I sat.

His large hand engulfed the microphone on its stand. The lights dimmed. Music notes drifted in the air.

Atlas’s throaty singing voice was almost more than I could take as his rendition of “Ain’t No Sunshine” by Bill Withers echoed through the auditorium.

The lyrics rolled over me like silken, warm water, but goosebumps rose on my skin.

Heat flushed my face again as my wolf let out a needy whine. The suppressants weren’t going to be strong enough.

Atlas never took his eyes off me.

The song had a haunting quality that was somehow sexual and full of masculine energy. He didn’t sing it perfectly, but the imperfections made it more real. Better. The Lunas had gone silent, each of them hanging on his words, and by the scent in the room, I could tell each Luna wished he was singing to her.

I didn’t blame them.

Too soon, the song ended and the lights brightened, shaking me from his spell. But Atlas still lingered on stage, staring at me.

I cheered louder than the rest and felt my stomach swoop as he smiled bigger.

He gave me a little wave as he was ushered off stage. My wolf couldn’t quit howling.

That’s my mate.

“Looks like the Omega is bed-hopping already,” someone snickered behind me.

No sudden movements. My wolf froze. If you ignore them, they might let it go.

My hands tightened into fists in my lap. I was so sick of—

“Hush now,” Cindy barked in her southern accent. Lunas shifted in their seats as she made her way down the stands. “Atlas wasn’t interested in any of us anyway.”

I was surprised to feel the relief I did as Cindy sat beside me. Maybe I wasn’t so alone here after all. True, Clara and Ivan were somewhere in the building, and Jesse had gone above and beyond on my hair this morning, but Cindy was also here for a second season.

That gave us common ground.

“I did wonder how long it would take you to snag your first Alpha, especially after that little stunt on the dance floor with Dorian the other night,” Cindy half-whispered, knowing full well anyone listening could hear us.