Page 10 of Nest of Thieves
Sammy is the only one who hasn’t ostracized me, and we’re hardly what I’d call besties.
“Oh my,” Sammy says with a soft gasp.
The student union has been totally transformed. A long red carpet leads to the entrance of the ballroom. Black velvet curtains tied back with golden fabric cover the doorframe. Two beta security guards stand at either side and watch as we enter. I note where each has their gun and Taser on their duty belts.
Inside the ballroom, black and red cloths cover the high top tables sprinkled throughout the rooms. Omegas cluster together in various sections of the room. Sammy waves to a few of her friends.
“Do you mind?” She turns her bright eyes on me. She’s so damn excited.
“Of course not. Go hang out. I’ll be all right.”
“You can come too, if you want,” she offers.
“I’m good.” I glance at the servers, who are busy filling up champagne flutes at a long table near the far wall.
“I thought you might be.” Sammy chuckles. “You’re welcome to come over whenever you like.” With a twinkle of her fingers, she sets off toward her friends. They all exclaim when she arrives, swooning over how good she looks and quickly falling into excited conversation.
Eyeing the table full of champagne, I slowly make my way toward it. Is it considered bad manners to be the first omega with a drink?
“They’re here!” an omega squeals as an overpowering wave of alpha scent crashes through the room.
“Fuck it,” I mutter to myself, snatching a drink.
A server gives me a funny look, so I smile and find a spot a few feet away to lean against the wall while I omega watch. I take a sip, humming as the sweet bubbles burst across my tongue. A few alphas grab a drink first, the sleeves of their suits pulling back enough to reveal the dark A on the inside of their wrists. For the most part, the alphas spread out through the room, claiming different areas and eyeing the groups of omegas like hungry wolves. There’s a stage at the front of the room, a raised platform where a DJ plays non-intrusive music that’s meant for mingling. Sliding my gaze around the room, I count the cameras. There’s one in each corner and a bigger one in the middle of the ceiling. Five in total. There are also a dozen or so security guards mixed in with the alphas. They’re wearing fancy black suits too, but the small earpiece is easy to spot if you’re looking for it.
I take another sip, watching a cocky group of alphas approach Sammy and her friends. The omegas all stand a little straighter and push their tits out. I roll my eyes and take another sip, heading back to the champagne table. I’m going to need at least ten more of these to get through tonight. All the posturing and preening is starting to get on my nerves. I retreat to my spot by the wall as tonight’s facilitator climbs on stage.
“Welcome, alphas. We’re so happy you’ve honored us with your presence at this year’s Spring Soiree.”
I snort but quickly take a drink when a nearby omega scowls at me.
Right. Not the place for my thoughts.
Turning away from the woman, I study the crowd again. The alphas, much like the omegas, are almost all the same. They’re all so well-behaved. So clean-cut and preppy. I frown.
“Not having a good time?”
I jump and glare at the alpha who kickstands his leg against the wall, brown eyes searching mine. He’s wearing a suit too, but his neck is covered in tattoos and he’s wearing a black skull ring on his middle finger. A small section of his left eyebrow is shaved. His skin is brown and his cheekbones are well-defined enough to make me bristle with envy. He’s gorgeous.
“What makes you think that?” I ask, tone bored. Even though his tattoos intrigue me, I can’t be certain he’s different from the rest of the packs here, and I know better than to get my hopes up. Everyone I’ve met has been the same. Boring. Good. Proper.
What’s an omega have to do to get thrown against the wall and fucked stupid while also being choked? I really don’t think I’m asking for too much.
“I think you’ve rolled your eyes at least three times.” His lips kick up into a devastating smirk.
“Stalking much?”
He chuckles, the sound deep and throaty. “Something like that.” He rubs his jaw and flicks his gaze over me.
“Oh, look, my friends are calling me.” I give him an apologetic grin and slip through the crowd of alphas and omegas, landing near Sammy and company. She notices me, but I shake my head, letting her know I don’t want to be invited into the fold. I’m good standing off to the side.
“He’s lying about stalking you. You know that, right?” a soft voice asks.
I wrinkle my brow and glance at the alpha who appeared at my side. His long black hair is loose, brushing the edges of his shoulders, and, instead of a fancy tux, he’s wearing a simple pair of black pants and a dark red button-up shirt that’s rolled up to his forearms. The only mark on his skin is the A on the inside of his wrist. Even so, he definitely doesn’t look as clean-cut as the rest of the alphas.
“Do I know you?” I ask, confused by the sudden attention.
“Yes and no,” he says with a hint of a grin. “I’m Riku.” He extends his hand. A dark black skull ring sits on his left middle finger.
