Page 98 of The Omega

I swallowed my pride as Dorian parked by the pump. “Do you want me to fill it up?”

“No, I don’t,” he grumbled. “I do have enough money for gas, you pretentious prick.”

“Fine.” The cold night air was a welcome relief to the anxious stress sweat that coated my skin.

“Where are you going?” Dorian slammed his door shut.

“To get us some coffee.” I didn’t turn back around.

The gas station bell chimed as I exited with two steaming Styrofoam cups in hand. I half-expected Dorian to be gone, but he was still there, waiting.

“Took you long enough,” he huffed as I slid inside his ridiculously small hotrod.

I hummed my agreement as I sipped the hot brew and resumed my place of staring out the window.

“Needs sugar,” Dorian said, minutes after we’d gotten back on the road.

His words were lackluster, but they echoed in the silence between us. The barren landscape pressed in on either side of the headlight beams and shadow monsters danced on the guardrails.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad mate for Opal,” Dorian said, not able to stay quiet this long.

I chuckled at his unexpected comment. “How painful was it to say that?”

“Have you ever taken a trapeze bar to the nuts?” He smirked.

“I can’t say that I have.” And I’d never be able to say it. Not that I’d want to. I took another sip of my coffee before asking, “Why does Bailey Pack need an Alpha? I thought you circus types were all wild and carefree.”

“You know, I’m not only a circus clown.” Dorian rolled his eyes. “I also act and dance.”

“But you can’t sing,” I pointed out.

It’s not like you’re great at it either.

“No, that I cannot do. You’re the one with the pipes.” He grinned. “And to answer your question, they don’t. Or didn’t need one. You know my mom and Aunt Sunny were class acts in their day. So were the others. Did you get to see Basch?”

“That fire-breathing lion shifter?” I asked.

“He used to be on Broadway until he got swept up in our crew,” Dorian explained. “And the monkey twins?”

“Georgie and Garrett.” I was good with names.

“Those two were famous contortionists when they were younger. But they worked with another troupe…” He gritted his teeth as he rounded the bend in the road. “Anyway, it’s easy to take advantage of talent like this. Everyone wants a piece. So you get Beta bitches such as Charles Benson who come in like vultures and say they’ll help negotiate better wages or handle the bookings. Before you know it, they’ve signed contracts and owe more than they can pay.”

“Charles Benson?” I asked. He said the name like it was someone important. “Never heard of him.”

“You wouldn’t have. He disappeared.” Dorian tightened his hands on the wheel. Now he was the one staring straight ahead. I should’ve been happy about that.

The way he spoke gave me pause. “Did Benson do something to your pack?”

Dorian still wouldn’t look at me. “I shouldn’t have been born. It wasn’t possible. My ma had never been with an Alpha. When Ma and Aunt Sunny realized I was an Alpha male, they hid me away until I was strong enough to take that fucker down. After that, I discovered he had a whole laundry list of similar grievances and troupes he’d screwed over.”

“Took him down…” I echoed.

That’s not… allowed.

I swallowed another sip of my coffee, but I no longer needed it to stay awake. “You said Benson was a Beta.”

For the first time that I met him, I smelled real fear on his skin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”