Page 72 of Wild Omega

I glance at Rickon, in his print dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and fitted pants with studs running down the side. Killer jade eyeliner sparkles above his lashes and brings out the sexy green of his irises.

Not really a surprise. Even the director’s assistant feasted her eyeballs on my man for longer than necessary. I’m going to need to carry more than a fork to keep the riffraff away from my stunning lover. Fabby McStabby might need a partner.

“What now, babe?” I ask Rickon, ignoring the pompous ass who’s about to become my coworker.

Rickon squeezes my hip, a delightful pink hue flushing across his cheeks. “Let’s go walk the set.”

I nod, then turn to Bradley while placing my hand up against my mouth like I have a secret. In a staged whisper, I tell him, “For the record, he doesn’t like being called Rick.”

My alpha stiffens as Bradley blinks at us, paralyzed. “Oh, o-okay.”

I snicker as we turn away.

“Hey, have we met before?”

I swivel back to face the classically handsome alpha. His brows furrow, like he’s trying to figure something out. “I hope that’s not a pickup line, because it’s just too sad.”

He holds up his hands. “Oh, gosh no. Something about you just feels familiar.”

“Pretty sure we’ve never been in the same city before, let alone the same room.” I hook my thumb over my shoulder. “I better learn the setup here before the test starts.”

Bradley waves. “Sure. Great meeting you.”

Weirdo. I toss the end of my braid back over my shoulder and cross the room to the stage decked out with hay bales and wooden stable doors with a fake horse head poking over one. The blank wall behind doesn’t seem very stable-like, but the set has just enough authenticity with the dry scent of hay filling the room to pass for a barn. More importantly, a techy sets up the camera, ready to capture my fate.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever willingly walked away from Bradley Jacks before,” Rickon whispers as he tugs me into his embrace. “How did you know?” He gazes at me with those knockout green eyes, trying to read my soul. “About my name?”

I grin at him. “’Cause you’re my alpha.”

He cocks his eyebrows, clearly not believing me.

Wriggling out of his grip, I trace my thumb across his bottom lip. “Your lips tighten up every time someone calls you Rick.”

He nods thoughtfully. “And you noticed.” It’s not a question.

“Of course.”

His gaze locks in on my mouth, and we lean in together to trade lingering kisses. Warmth flushes through me. It’s still hard to believe I have a partner I can be affectionate with, and rely on in unfamiliar situations like these.

Mr Yun chooses that moment to throw open the side door. Hard to say if the wind catches it or he slams it on purpose, but I’m guessing the latter because it makes for a dramatic entrance. “Sooner we start, the sooner we finish,” he declares, striding across the room. “Rickon Jones, do not make me regret this.”

Rickon jumps back with a bashful grin. “Good luck, Red. Show them who’s boss!”

Nerves churn through my belly as I glance at the director while he confers with the cameraman. The black hunk of tech looks like it’s designed for detecting aliens rather than filming movies as it lurks between the two men on its stand, staring at me with a single lens eye. Ready to critique everything from my skin tone to my hand movements.

Even if I’m a great actress, which I am because I’m totally not letting my nervousness show, it’ll all mean nothing if this black box contraption doesn’t approve of me.

“Play nice,” I whisper.

Mr Yun gives me instructions on where to start the scene and which way to move. “Places!”

Rickon catches my eye and nods, not a hint of fear in his face.

Right. I’ve never let anything stop me before, so today’s not the day to start making bad habits. And the same goes for Ashana. She won’t let anything stop her doing exactly what she wants.

“Screen test one for Red—” The director swivels, looking at me expectantly.

I freeze up. I don’t have a second name. Do I tell him it’s Hawk, or make something up?

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