Page 71 of Wild Omega

My eyes catch on the title as it slots perfectly into my hands:Omega’s Race.

“Time to put your money where your mouth is.”

I grin as I say, “Got no money, but plenty of mouth.”

He shakes his head, but his lips quirk. “Then let’s hope you can use it well. Rickon, get her down to the studio and put her into silks and boots for scene three. One of the male leads should still be nearby, and he’s playing the horse co-owner in the scene. I’ll meet you there in ten.”

“Sounds great.” Rickon tosses his head to indicate we’re leaving, dislodging a wisp of his carefully tamed hair.

Everything’s happening at lightning speed, and the energy’s trickling into my veins, lighting me up. And yet I have a teensy problem I need to talk to Rickon about.

As the elevator doors slide shut, I turn to my alpha. “So, um, Rickon? There’s this one little issue I haven’t mentioned.” I look down at the bulky manuscript clutched to my chest.

His hand quivers, making him double press the down button. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t read very well.”

Although I’ve heard of the process of screen tests and watched plenty of documentaries and behind-the-scenes clips, my first time stepping onto a real set sends a blaze of excitement crackling through me. My head’s still ringing with every bit of advice Rickon could squeeze in between reading me the entire scene twice on the walk over. Look at the camera’s edge, not into the lens itself. Don’t lean on the set pieces because these are flimsy ones. Angle myself the correct way without being self-conscious.

I smile to myself, knowing I chose the right guy to be my manager. He also squeezed in some extra makeup while talking about lighting and depth.

And the scorching look he gives me as I walk over in skin-tight riding pants and knee-high black boots tells me I also chose the right alpha. Or my soul did. Good job, omega soul.

“Wow, Red,” he murmurs, running his hands down my racing-silk-clad arms. “You were right. This is the role for you.”

I flick my loose hair over my shoulder with a laugh. “I’m always right. Get used to it.”

Rickon grins. “Yes, ma’am. Now be a good jockey and turn around.” He guides me to a foldout chair and finger combs my hair into order. From a basket, he pulls out a spray bottle and a comb, grunting at me when I turn around to see what he’s doing.

“The character usually wears her hair braided, since she’s working and wearing helmets. I’ll do it now for the screen test, so they get the best idea of what you’ll look like.”

Sounds sensible, and thorough. My scalp tingles as he combs it and then runs the handle’s pointed end through my hair to separate locks. He pulls tight, working deftly to weave a braid.

A good-looking alpha emitting a distinct wine scent walks over with his fingers looped through his belt. “Hey, Rick.” Of course I know who he is. I doubt anyone in the developed world wouldn’t recognize Bradley Jacks.

The hands working through my hair tighten suddenly, pulling my braid. “Hello, Brad.” Am I imagining things or did my alpha’s aura just turn frosty? Hard to know for sure when I can’t turn to look at him, but his vanilla butter scent thickens.

Bradley clears his throat. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to say I’m real sorry about what Lyra did—”

Rickon snaps, “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Oh.” The stranger grimaces, and then sweeps me with a curious look before glancing back over my head. “You know anything about what’s going on? Elijah asked me to hang around.”

“Are you leading inOmega’s Race?” my alpha asks. From the small back-and-forth movements, it feels like Rickon’s tying off the end of my braid.

The other alpha smiles. “Yeah. I’m playing James, the horse’s co-owner.” His gaze drops to me again and I smile sweetly. “Are you going to introduce me to this lovely lady?”

“All done,” Rickon murmurs, dropping his hands on my shoulders and squeezing. His hesitation tells me he doesn’t want to introduce me at all. I don’t like this handsome stranger who’s made my Rickon uncomfortable.

I tilt my head. “The name’s Red. I’m doing a screen test for the role of Ashana.” I offer my hand. “If I do well, we’ll be working together.”

His gaze runs over me with an assessing air as he shakes my hand. Then his cheeks dimple. “Enchanted, Red. I’m Bradley, but you probably already knew that.” He smirks like his inflated ego ought to be super charming. “I hope you get the part. How do you know Rick?”

I stand up and drape my arm over Rickon’s shoulder. “He’s my manager.” I turn in and drop a kiss on his cheek to stake my claim. “And my alpha.”

Bradley’s mouth drops, and then a heated gleam appears in his gaze. “Well, isn’t Rick a lucky man?”

A little unpleasant shiver tingles through my belly. I know that kind of look. Saw it plenty back at the House of Bitches. Well, I knew this industry would have plenty of scum, but if I’m not mistaken, his heated gaze includes my alpha too.

---