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“So the rumors of you being a virgin are true?” My jaw drops, not expecting him to know, or even ask such a thing. “Are you prepared to take a knot?”
I clear my throat as heat burns at my cheeks, traveling along my throat and expanding along my chest, covering it in splotchy red marks. Great, not only am I completely mortified at the question, but they’re getting an unattractive response from me, and the thought of taking an alpha’s knot my first time has my heart rate spiking. The panic in my eyes is reflecting back at me through the camera lens.
The sound of three thunderous alpha growls comes from behind me, and Ryland’s grip on my hand becomes painful.
Opening my mouth to answer, I’m cut off before I can make a sound by a body leaning in front of me, taking up the frame of the camera. “If you’re not going to respect her and her privacy, you’re done with this interview,” a rough voice growls. I lean to the side and find Jedrik gripping the man by the collar of his shirt. He towers over the cameraman, making sure his unspoken threat is made clear, and the action might surprise me more than the question.
Mark lowers the camera and holds up a placating hand. He swallows and you can see his Adam’s apple bob with the motion. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean any disrespect. You know I have a script to go by. I promise I have only one more question, then I’m done.”
Jedrik releases a grunt and throws the man against the back of his chair. The enforcer doesn’t even glance at me as he moves to take the seat next to his twin once more. I can’t believe he stuck up for me like that. The man who says the word omega like it’s a curse, and has done nothing but make me feel like the worst kind of inconvenience.
As if he wants to rush through the rest, the camera is already in position when I face forward again. To top it off, he directs his last question to Ry instead of me. It seems he doesn’t want to test Jedrik by addressing me directly. “Ryland, as Verity’s best friend and confidant, you might be the best person to tell our viewers what kind of alpha would make the perfect match for her. Can you share the attributes you would pick for her?”
Ry gives me a once over, thinking through his answer. He gives me a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. They seem to carry a great sadness, and if I chose to think about it too hard, mine would reflect the same thing.
“Verity has a heart of gold. She’s the kindest, most passionate person I know, and any alpha who ends up with her will be the luckiest man alive,” he starts, staring into my eyes, before turning to the camera. “She’s also funny and knows how to have a good time. Her laughter can light up your world on the darkest of days. So her alphas will need to be the type of men who can be her rock. They need to be compassionate, bold, and steadfast. But they also need to be the type who can give her the love she deserves. To make her whole life feel as safe as her future nest will.”
When he finishes, the red light indicating he’s recording turns off, and Mark lowers the camera. He gives us a nod, not wanting to say anything, and moves to the front of the plane.
Time seems to drone on after that. Every now and then Andrik, Jedrik, and Dr. Em’s scent will reach me and I inhale it, savoring it in favor of worrying about the plane ride. Eventually, the clouds below us clear, and Ryland gives me a nudge, allowing me to lean over him so I can get a glimpse of the dark, sprawling mansion we’re circling. The small airstrip is like a beacon in the trees, the only clearing for miles in the dense forest other than the mansion.
The plane suddenly jerks, and everyone gasps, glancing around the cabin warily. So far, there hasn’t been any turbulence, so this is out of the ordinary. It happens again, harder this time, practically throwing me into Ryland. I squeal and scramble to fasten my seatbelt. When I hear the sweet sound of it clicking into place, I screw my eyes shut, frantically reaching for Ryland’s hand at the same time he grabs mine as the plane shakes relentlessly. “Oh my gosh! Is this supposed to happen?” I call out.
“No,” a rough voice, belonging to none other than Jedrik, responds and it doesn’t help my anxiety whatsoever.
“We’re totally going to die. I’m here and I’m going to die. See, this is why you should’ve let me go, Andrik!” I curse when I’m almost thrown into the aisle. Ry murmurs platitudes, but I can’t hear them over the rushing of blood in my ears.
“Verity,” a deep voice coos. “You’re going to be all right.”
My eyes snap open and my gaze collides with Andrik’s. He’s standing in the aisle, his total focus on me even as the plane shakes some more and he has to reach a hand out to steady himself on a seat. “Andrik, what are you doing up? You’re going to get yourself killed!”
“You’re okay, Verity.” He bends over and unclicks my seatbelt, before quickly lifting me out of my seat and taking my place. He deposits me on his lap, immediately belting us back in once more. A purr rumbles from his chest, instantly calming the omega in me, and allowing me to settle a fraction. I lean into his chest and he presses his nose against my pulse point briefly.
Another shudder runs through the plane, jostling me on his lap. My nails dig into Andrik’s arm where it’s banded around my waist like a second seatbelt. The pounding in my chest speeds up, images of the plane crashing into the side of the mountain flashing through my mind, consuming my every thought. My only saving grace is when Ryland’s cool hand grips mine once more, and the combination of the two comforting me gets me through the next bout of turbulence.
“Sorry about that, folks, it’s a little windier than they were calling for,” the pilot announces over the intercom once we’re flying smoothly again. “We’re starting the landing descent now.”
I barely register the words. Andrik’s purr is doing dangerous things to me and his scent? I want to bottle his cinnamon spice and shake it all over me, coating myself like a mini donut. Rosey leans over and smirks, tilting her head toward the cameraman who just caught all of that and is grinning as he focuses on Andrik and me through the lens of the camera. “You’re going to do just fine this season, Verity.”
How will I ever get used to them filming my every movement?
Chapter 7
Verity
The plane thankfully lands smoothly and with no more close calls, though part of me wonders if the whole thing wasn’t orchestrated by the show to create more drama. I can’t wait to get off the plane as quickly as possible, leading the way as soon as the steps are in place.
The moment I step off, I take deep breaths of air, barely holding myself back from kissing the ground, contemplating never flying again once I get home. The relaxing pine scent of the trees surrounding the runway on either side reassures me.
Even though Mrs. Violet said the staff was coming early with me, there must be a roster of live-in employees, because there’s already someone waiting a short distance away. She directs Andrik and Jedrik to another employee, who will take them to where the contestants have their own quarters.
My stylist, the cameraman, Ryland, and I are ushered to a golf cart that takes us to Hidden Haven Manor. The whole ride I can feel the weight of the camera focused on me. Rosey gives a content smile as she watches a few wisps of hair blow in the air next to my face, framing it perfectly.
As we approach the iron gates and they automatically swing open, my jaw drops. The mansion is vast, the lights inside are bright, spilling out onto the lawn and the russet-colored sunset really highlights the darker tone of the charcoal bricks. The Victorian-esque style gives it a mysterious vibe that I hope translates well on the inside. It’s one thing to see it on Heat Paradise, but entirely different to be here in person. Everything seems more vivid and high def.
The man driving the golf cart parks in front of the stunning double doors. He’s decked to the nines in authentic serving attire, probably for the cameras, complete with silky white gloves. “Welcome to Hidden Haven Manor, Verity. I hope you find your season advantageous. May fate deem you worthy.” He bends over at the waist, extending his hand toward the door, motioning me forward. “You may call me Mr. Emerald. I’m the caretaker of Hidden Haven Manor. Anything you need, please find me, or tug on any of the golden cords in any of the rooms.”
“Thank you,” I murmur and walk inside. The first thing to capture my attention is the tiered chandelier hanging in the entryway, the glass shards hanging from it reflecting off the light onto the white wood carved walls. Where the outside is dark and mysterious, the inside has been updated and given the perfect lighting for filming. There’s a grand staircase leading up both sides to the second floor. “Whoa, this is stunning.”
