Page 3 of Jace

“You’re still growling,” Ryder said as a couple of alphas approached to take over watching the gate.

I huffed out a breath. “I know. I’ll deal with it.”

“You need to get laid,” he said, smirking now.

I chuckled, feeling the last of my tension fade. The arsehole was probably right. I didn’t usually partake of the party crowd, but there was one little morsel that was making me wish I could make an exception. Tiny little thing, trying to pry her eyes off me and failing as she walked by. She’d caressed every inch of me with her gaze, and I hadn’t missed that tell-tale swallow. I’d known what she was thinking, what she’d wanted, and for once, I’d felt the need to give it to her, staring long past the point of being polite. The bloke with her, he didn’t seem to be hers, looking at me with a much more blatant hunger.

Omega, the beast inside me rumbled.

I shook my head. No omega would willingly enter alpha turf. They were carted off and sold by the Dawn Agency, not waltzed in through the gate to get their drink on.

Several of my men ambled up to take over at the gate. We nodded to our replacements and started walking back toward the club.

“So, Miss Prim…” Ryder trailed off, eyeing the same woman I had, then he launched into a full-on snicker when I punched the bastard in the arm.

“Off limits,” I said, not bothering with pretences.

“Yeah,” he replied, still wearing a shit-eating grin. “That one’s a screamer of the unenthusiastic variety.”

He was probably right on that as well.

Our club, the beast said in a low purr of satisfaction as the uptight little beta and her party walked inside our bar, Inked. Smart choice on her part. I didn’t tolerate bullshit or alphas making unwelcome advances on my turf.

Fuck no.

That didn’t mean I was green. I’d been with enough betas to know how to coax the right woman into the throes of pleasure. All it needed was time and patience.

And lube—a fuck ton of lube.

She was interested. Alphas were instinctual creatures, and we knew the signs of an opportunity, as Ryder referred to them, and how they were susceptible to alpha pull. I wasn’t going there, though, not tonight and not with her. She was in my club now, vulnerable. I wanted to frog-march her right back out of the gate so that she’d be safe.

Ryder’s assessment was like the proclamation of my doom.

“She’s still off limits,” I said because she was, and I was determined the purse clutching beta would be returning home without a scratch on her. If I wasn’t tapping that, then no one else was either.

Sloane

I steered us into a nearby bar, but that was a mistake, though finally agreeing to Em’s demands to visit Desparion was probably the first one. We walked up the steps into a darkened space broken by spots of artificial light, the place not yet packed.

“Damn your cockblocking, Sloane,” Jude grumbled as he sat down at a stool by the bar, the girls doing the same. A bartender—beta, by the look of it—slid our way and took my order with a nod, along with my credit card. “Three alphas on the prowl. Three! Can you imagine?—?”

“Oh, we could imagine,” Jewel said, then sighed. “They’re so big and hot. Do you think they’re proportionate?”

“Of course they are,” Em insisted. “That video we saw of those two alphas and…” She grinned nervously, remembering where she was and whom she was with. “You can’t cater to needy omegas with a pencil dick.”

“Omegas,” Jewel said, sighing. “It must be freaking amazing to be completely overwhelmed and swept up by feelings and instincts so big, you’re helpless to do anything but submit.”

“Shut up,” Jude exclaimed with a groan, rearranging his junk in his jeans. “I think I cried for two days straight when I revealed as a beta. I would’ve made a brilliant omega—being treasured, maintaining a beautiful nest, plus the harem of burly alphas gagging to take me over and over…”

“Shut up,” I said, but not harshly, as I pushed his bottle of beer over, handing the girls their drinks. From our left, a great squeal went up, and the next instalment of Emma’s entourage entered the club.

The drinks came right back to me.

“Hold these,” Em ordered before throwing her arms around the necks of the newcomers, and more enthusiastic dancing and squealing ensued. A hairband with sequinned cat ears emerged from one girl’s bag and was placed on Emma’s head to another cheer.

They all started to gravitate towards the dance floor, and with them came the alphas. They formed a ring around it, watching the beta men and women throw themselves around to the music with practised abandon. I could almost hear David Attenborough narrating a documentary about the mating habits of betas and alphas in the background.

“Em…”

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