Page 12 of Party Girl: How a Naughty Omega Finds Love
When did it start spinning?
“This is a trip,” I whisper, carefully testing the rotating floor.
Lindsey breaks into a hysterical giggle. “I’m. So. High,” she says between breaths.
The floor stops spinning when I put my foot on it. I take another step, bracing for the spin, but it never comes. I glance around as people bump into me, waving their hands and dancing. They move around me like I’m a boulder in the middle of a stream, movements fluid and smooth.
I rub my eyes; the music stutters then switches into a frantic, anxiety-inducing track. Lindsey twirls in front of me.
“Come on, Whitney. Dance with me.” She waves her hand around like an octopus having a seizure.
My laugh is high pitched, and she grins, swooping in to grab my hands. She moves my body for me as I lose it, cackling until my side aches. She whoops when the song changes and the rest of the crowd instantly shifts to fit the beat.
This is insane.
People start to scream. The music suddenly stops. Harsh, bright overhead lights come on. Lindsey is still dancing, waving our arms around.
“Nobody move!”
“What’s going on?” I ask, voice sounding distorted to my own ears.
“Everyone down, now.”
Men in full police suits rush through the building. I don’t think this is a surprise Thunder From Down Under show. Those guns are very real and scary.
Lindsey is blissfully unaware of her surroundings, but I have enough sense to pull her toward the floor. I lie down like everyone around me. Lindsey rests her cheek on the dirty floor and sighs.
“It’s like the ocean,” she murmurs.
“The cops are here,” I whisper.
“Mmm.” She closes her eyes and hums to herself. She’s so fucking high.
Officers walk around the room; their pounding steps vibrate through me. The closer they get, the more my heart clenches in fear. If they run my ID, they’ll know it’s a fake. I’m going to be in so much trouble. My mind starts to spiral. What if Camila shuns me? I’ll be forced to leave society. Forced to find a way to live off the land. I’ve been forced to do things my whole life, but being shunned might be the thing that breaks me.
I gasp for air, chest suddenly tight and heavy. A cop nearby swings his head in my direction when I make a small choking noise. He steps over a couple of people and squats down, shifting his gun to the side and pointing it away.
“Are you okay?”
No. No. No.
Digging my nails into the floor, I try to cling to the filthy hardwood. I try to ground myself. Try to reel in the panic clawing at my throat. Try to keep my heart in my chest, but it’s going to burst at any second. I’m screwed. I’m a low pack omega with nothing going for me.
“Hey, breathe. Hayden! We need a paramedic.” The guy reaches for me, his fingers morphing into sharp claws.
I recoil, scrambling to my knees. “Don’t.”
“Easy,” he says softly, squinting at me. He holds his hands up. The monstrous claws are gone. “What did you take?”
“Nothing.”
The earth shakes and I whimper, covering my head and expecting the building to cave in. Earthquakes are a regular occurrence in Dolin, but I’ve never felt one so strong. The thudding races toward me, and I know at any second the earth is going to open and swallow me whole.
But then it suddenly stops.
I don’t trust the quiet.
“Whitney?” A monstrous voice whispers my name.
