Page 130 of Your Wild Omega

Red hangs herself off Zack’s shoulder, and his bloodlust simmers down. “What are you talking about?” she asks, eyes wide. Bloody hell, I love this actress.

Brad snatches a magazine from his manager and slaps his hand against the cover with a loud thwack. “This! You supposedly shooting me down.”

“Oh.” She taps a polished finger against her jaw and I hide my smile. “I just took your advice and gave a statement about the truth. I’m not yours, Brad, and I never will be. Pretty sure I mentioned that at the restaurant.”

His face turns a wonderful rainbow of expressions that leave a flushed stamp across his handsome exterior. “You set me up. They even have an audio recording of us talking.”

Red chuckles. “Did I? I can’t be certain, but how about the people you had watching us from the other tables? Maybe one of them leaked the truth.” She lifts both hands in the air, a vision of innocence. “You know how it is. The paparazzi love their wild stories.”

He throws the magazine to the ground and curls his hands into fists. “Red Jones!” he snarls.

She tilts her head and scoffs. “Maybe I wasn’t clear enough. I’d rather sandpaper my pussy than let you anywhere near it, dumbass. So keep your grubby paws off me and my pack.”

“You bitch,” he hisses, face contorting with anger as he steps forward.

I click my tongue and usher Red past me, out of harm’s way. “Hey, let’s keep it professional, Brad. We’re in the work environment, after all, and everyone’s watching.”

“This isn’t the end,” he hisses, flushing darkly.

A familiar gluggy sensation rises through my chest. I’ll take beatings and being called an al-mega; I’ll deal with being hit on and treated like a substitute. But threaten my omega? Nuh-uh.

“You’re wrong.” My voice doesn’t seem to belong to me anymore. I step forward, rage boiling out in every direction. “It’s over. The lady said no. I said no. You’re welcome to try your luck with Zack, but our bond tells me he’d much prefer to pull your beating heart out of your bloody body.” The daylight fades, and thunder rumbles in my ears as I stare him down. “No means no, fucker.”

It’s not daylight changing; it’s just Zack stepping up behind me and resting his hands on my shoulders. His growl’s no joke, filled with dark menace. But the way it quivers through my back thrills me and fills me with confidence.

The alpha’s presence burns so thick and violent, Brad rocks back a step. After a split second, I realize that’s not all Zack’s presence. My alpha scent spills, vanilla tones burned to brimstone by fierce anger. This time, I didn’t even have to get drunk to manage it.

Fear flashes in Brad’s eyes as his gaze jumps from me to the big alpha at my back. “Y-you let him bond you?” the actor stammers.

I laugh, the sound loud in the silent tent. “Yes, I did, and I love it. That’s what it takes to be part of our pack, so please, grow up, and leave us be. We’re not your playthings. And next time you spread lies to the media, I’ll be sending my lawyer. Maybe you’ve heard of Callisto Wren?”

Even if he hasn’t heard of Callisto personally, the Wren family is a household name, their net worth approaching ten figures.

Brad’s mouth snaps shut and he slumps, and I know he’s done.

I nod and turn, linking my arm with Zack’s to look for Red. She’s paused just inside her dressing area, smiling at me like I’m her hero. I suck in a jagged breath and nod to her, feeling elated. We’ll face many more hurdles on her journey through stardom, but Brad won’t be one of them.

I snap the curtain edge and it slides on its railing, blocking out the stunned alpha and the frozen spectators.

“You really got worked up there, alpha,” Red teases, stepping into my open arms and breathing deep.

As I squeeze her to my chest, my limbs shake. “I think I’ll leave the heroics for Zack next time,” I say with a squeaky laugh.

Red chuckles and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “You were amazing.”

Callie, Red’s costumer, claps her hands. “All are amazing, yez? Can ve please get dressed now, eh?” The tension shatters as we laugh, and by the time we leave, Brad’s nowhere to be seen.

We stumble into the house, exhausted. Mr Yun worked us late with indoor scenes, making up for the day he gave Red off after her fall. We’ve reached a static point in filming where the process feels endless because we’re not even halfway through. The repeated reshoots, with no end in sight, drag on everyone’s spirits.

It’s no one’s fault. Sometimes a horse neighs in the middle of important dialogue, or one of the crew members trips on the equipment. Other times, the director wants to try a different angle or change up the positions, so they shoot over and over until he’s satisfied.

Red works hard, listening carefully to direction, interpreting like a seasoned veteran, and doing the retakes without a single complaint. The palpable tension between her and Brad doesn’t help the atmosphere, but Mr Yun seems aware and postponed their sex scene for later. That one will be fun for sure.

I collapse onto the couch. “Fuck, this day felt twice as long as usual,” I mutter. I shouldn’t stop. I need to keep pushing until my family’s fed and washed, but I don’t think I can take another step.

Red lies down with her head on my lap, silent because she’s preserving her voice after it got scratchy in the last scene.

Ozzie screeches at us. “Hello. Fuck off. Get out!”

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