As we approach what appears to be an office, I hear male voices and laughter. Ryker pauses at the doorway, and I peek around him to see four men inside, all lounging in leather chairs around a massive desk.
The moment we enter, all conversation stops. Four pairs of eyes lock onto me with such intensity that I instinctively step closer to Ryker, as if seeking protection.
They’re all stunningly attractive in different ways. One has spiky red hair and green eyes that seem to dance with mischief. Another has long blond hair pulled back in a man bun, his blue eyes sharp and calculating beneath a scar that somehow only enhances his appeal. The third has golden-tanned skin and perfect features, his curly brown hair falling to his shoulders. The fourth is broader than the rest, with a short beard and dark, almost black eyes that seem to bore into me.
“Gentlemen,” Ryker says, his voice taking on a commanding tone I haven’t heard before. “This is Anya.”
The man with the curly brown hair immediately rises, a charming smile spreading across his face as he approaches. He takes my hand, bringing it to his lips for a lingering kiss.
“Enchanted,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m Lorenzo. If you ever need anything…anything at all, I’m at your service.”
The way he says it makes it clear he’s not talking about household chores. My face heats as Ryker lets out a low growl.
“Easy there,” Ryker says sharply. “She’s the new housekeeper.”
The redhead, who has been studying me with increasing intensity, suddenly jumps to his feet, his expression morphing from curiosity to outrage.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snarls, causing me to flinch. “She’s an omega. She’s not a goddamn housekeeper!”
The room goes deathly still. All five men are staring at me now, their expressions a mix of shock, anger, and something else I can’t identify. I shrink back, confused and alarmed by the sudden hostility.
“An omega?” the bearded one says, rising slowly from his chair. “That’s impossible. There hasn’t been an omega in…”
“Decades,” the blond finishes, his calculating gaze raking over me from head to toe. “How did we miss this?”
I look between them, my heart hammering against my ribs. “I don’t understand. What’s an omega?”
My question seems to shock them even more. Ryker turns to me, his expression unreadable.
“You don’t know what you are?” he asks quietly.
“I’m human,” I reply, my voice small and uncertain. It sounds utterly ridiculous that I’m trying to explain this. “Just... human.”
The man with the spiky red hair lets out a bark of laughterthat holds no humor. “Human? Fuck me. She thinks she’s human.”
The way he says it, like the very idea is absurd, sends a chill down my spine.What else would I be? And what the hell is an omega?Ryker’s hand settles on the small of my back, the warmth of it both reassuring and terrifying, given the sudden tension in the room.
“Rex, you’re scaring her,” growls Ryker. “Calm the fuck down. I didn’t realize she was an omega until you pointed it out. I wasn’t sure, but now her scent makes sense to me.”
Four
ANYA
My heart pounds against my ribs as I take a hasty step back, putting distance between myself and these men who stare at me like I’m some kind of rare creature they’ve captured. The word ‘omega’ hangs in the air between us. It’s an unfamiliar word, but it’s somehow making my skin tingle with recognition.
What the hell are they talking about?I’m just Anya, just human, just a girl trying to make enough money to survive, not whatever the fuck they think I am.
“I think there’s been some mistake,” I say quickly. “I’m not... whatever you just called me. I’m just here for the housekeeping position.”
The hot red-haired guy, Rex, narrows his eyes, sniffing the air between us with something like longing. “Your scent is clear as day. It’s faint, but it’s getting stronger now.”
I realize with growing horror that the more nervous I become, the more these men seem to smell something coming from me. Like they were freaking werewolves or something. Rex takes another deep breath, his nostrils flaring.
“Grape,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “Sweet, ripe grapes. Pure omega.”
“I don’t know what the hell an omega is,” I snap, pressing myself against the office door, ready to bolt. “And I’m not one. I’m just a regular person.”
The broad man with the dark beard suddenly moves toward me with a fluid grace that doesn’t match his size. One moment, he’s across the room, the next, he’s directly in front of me, looming over me.
