Page 224 of Claiming the Pack's Omega
I immediately hate this new man. There's an evil, almost soulless look in his eyes that makes me want to get as far away from him as I possibly can.
I instantly know exactly the kind of man he is. He's a spoiled, rich, Northside trust fund baby who's never been told no in his entire life. Or if he has been told no, every single protest was insignificant enough to him that he completely disregarded them.
The way he walks, the way he talks, it all screams that he's the one in charge here. Which is strange, considering how young he is and the fact that he's a beta.
I expect that unchecked swagger and confidence from an alpha. Not a beta.
I take Dom's earlier warnings about keeping my mouth shut to heart. This man is dangerous, regardless of his designation.
He steps up next to the gurney, and it takes everything I have not to flinch away from his touch as he reaches out and touches a strand of my hair. His mild, almond scent hits me. It's not terribly offensive, like I've found some alpha scents to be, but the bitterness there puts me on edge.
"You're a brunette," he hums. "Just my type."
"Brunette courtesy of a box," I say. "So am I really your type?"
Something tells me that I really don't want to be this guy's type.
He shrugs as he wraps that strand of hair around his finger. The way his gaze lingers on my body makes me want to scream. It feels like there's a layer of filth on my skin everywhere his eyes touch.
"I'm sure I can get someone to dye your hair for you while you're down here," he says. "Keep you just the way I like."
I've never felt the urge to change my hair color in my entire life. Hell, if it means making myself less appealing to the dangerous man in front of me, I'd shave it all off right now.
"That's ridiculous." The words leave my lips in the faintest of whispers before I can stop them.
Dom's jaw clenches shut across from me, and I freeze, waiting to see this new beta’s reaction.
He seems to find it amusing, if anything.
"Ridiculous? To take care of my new plaything?"
I want to vomit.
If I had anything left in my system, I'd spew it all up over his expensive fucking suit.
"Who are you?" I ask, my voice strained.
"Sebastian Montgomery," he says, a grin appearing on his face like he expects me to recognize the name.
What is it with douchebag Northsiders having stupid fancy names?
I run through my Rolodex of important Northside families, but nothing rings a bell.
He can tell. And it irritates him.
"Son of Derek Montgomery," he says, a tightness appearing around his eyes.
I shake my head. Still not ringing a bell.
"My father is the CEO of Novacure Pharmaceuticals."
It'sstillnot quite ringing a bell, but I have to say something.
"Oh, so you're in charge here?"
A maniacal grin splits his face. Seems like a little ego stroking goes a long way with this guy.
"That's right! You're getting it." He moves his hand from my hair to grip my face.
