Page 33 of Wild Omega

“Ah, thanks, B-Brad, but I’m—” I’m what? In a relationship I hate? Pining for a man who’ll never look my way? Longing for an omega I don’t have?

“Shh.” He touches a chilly finger to my lips. “You can find all the excuses in the world, or you can let me hold you here and simply realize how good it feels.”

I blink at him, trying to follow the logic before realizing he doesn’t have any, only supreme self-confidence built on a belief no one would dare turn him down. But put him in a room with Callisto, and all that alpha dominance would look like a puppy baring his teeth. I smile at the thought and sidestep.

“I really appreciate it, but I—”

Bradley steps in, his hand coming around my back at the same moment he presses his lips to mine. I freeze. Like, I don’t totally hate it; he’s a handsome guy and he smells like red wine. But it also feels hollow.

A gasp rings out behind me, and that hollowness fills with bitter regret.

“Rick?” Lyra stares wide-eyed, looking from Bradley to me in shock. Then her facial features twist into an angry snarl, and she marches forward to yank me away by the arm. “He came onto you, didn’t he, Bradley? I’m so sorry. I knew he was bad news.”

Her words echo in my ears as my tongue tries to put out the denial circling my brain at top speed. But my mouth seems tangled. She’s had a crush on Bradley ever since they last co-starred—she’ll never let this go.

Brad chuckles. “Don’t get so worked up, Lyra. It’s just a kiss.”

Lyra stiffens and points at me. “You’re fired!” she hisses, her sneer turning her ugly. “I was willing to give you a chance as my manager, but here you are, throwing it in my face. Take your nasty mouth and get lost!”

I stumble back, bumping into the cold railing. A chill runs down my spine. Fired? Me? If Lyra fires me here like this, the whole industry will hear about it by dawn. All the years I put into my career and networks go down the drain. I open my mouth to snap back at her, and suddenly I realize I’m done caring. I’m so sick of it all.

I turn on my heel in silence and walk back through the open French doors swaying gently in the evening air. I’d rather serve fries for minimum wage than pour my heart and soul into supporting an actor who turns on me like this.

“Rick!”

I ignore Brad’s voice behind me and push through the crowd. Even with scent dampeners inside, the room fills with enough potent alphas and omegas in the milling throng to make me nauseated.

A colorful barrier rears in my pathway, and when I try to go around, a woman hisses. “Rickon Jones.”

I look up and the last sane part inside me shatters. Hannah Sorentito plants slim wrists on her hips. “Why isn’t Lyra wearing my preview dress, Rickon? Do you even realize how big a chance I gave you?”

My throat squeezes. Whatever Lyra says about me has a chance of blowing over, but Hannah’s a different matter. “I—” I can’t even get words out. I just want the floor to open and swallow me. It seems wavy enough to do something unpredictable like that.

“Well?” Hannah demands. Partygoers around us turn to stare as the tall woman’s voice pierces through the music.

A sob catches in my throat. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I can’t stay here any longer. The scents and the curious stares drill into me. “I’ll contact you,” I call, turning to run through the crowd.

I’m all the way outside the building when Brad catches up to me. “Hey, wait up.” He grabs me by the shoulder and spins me around. “Don’t worry about Lyra.” He forces my chin up to meet his eyes. “Come home with me and be my sugar baby, until I find an omega. I like you, Rick. I’ll treat you so good, and you won’t even need to work with people like her.”

I shake with a silent, bitter laugh. Omega lookalike. Omega replacement. That’s all everyone thinks of me, except maybe for the only person in this world I wish would treat me like I’m an omega.

“I’m not a toy, Brad,” I say. The shadowy night looms around me as I ball my fists up, trying to control the trembling fury radiating through me. “I’m a damn alpha, even though everyone seems to forget it.”

I grab his hand and haul it off my face with more strength than I knew I possessed. A strange clamor goes off in my head and through the fuzz I numbly register a burned butter scent swirling around us. My alpha scent.

I shake my head. “Thanks for the offer, but no thanks.” I step back, putting more space between us.

Brad’s face shutters, like he can’t understand what I’m saying. His own red wine scent deepens, and he postures up, the alpha showing through. “Most people would kill for the chance to spend a night with me.”

With a bitter laugh, I wave my hands at my fitted vest. “Do I look like most people?”

I can’t seem to keep my thoughts locked behind a polite mask anymore. Is it the alcohol? Fuck, if Lyra and Hannah don’t ruin my career, Brad probably will out of spite.

My slow pace as I walk away betrays my hesitation. I’m turning down a life of ease, with every worldly comfort known to humankind. If I wanted to start a business, Brad would probably back me and get me on my feet. It’d be so easy to turn around and apologize. Take his offer.

And yet it would be betraying myself. I’d become the pampered omega stand-in I don’t want to be.

I tug my phone out of my snugly fitted pants and dial up Callisto. No answer. When it goes through to the voice mail, I leave a message, even though I know he hates retrieving them.

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