AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Before 1980, San Francisco was a city like any other. But then, a massive earthquake cracked the earth, and a powerful magic known as the Current surged forth, creating a storm like nothing anyone had ever seen. They called it the Dynamic Storm, because in its wake, people within the city limits found themselves changed. Alphas and omegas emerged, their physical differences setting them apart from the rest of the population.
The screen fills with images of alphas of every gender, strong and confident, looking intensely at a group of beautiful, doe-eyed omegas. What the narrator is implying is that alphas have knots, omegas have heats and slicks, and we all have a bunch of weird, intense sexual instincts… but of course, this is a family show. That has to remain subtext.
Though some people, now called betas, were unchanged by the Storm, the city itself underwent a transformation. Now, forty-odd years later, we find ourselves in a new age of dynamics—alphas are stronger than ever, omegas more captivating. And romance remains elusive for them both.
The man in the chair clicks the remote again, and the screen turns off. He stands from his seat and moves closer, appraising me. He’s buff, with muscles that ripple under a tight t-shirt, but his long, wild, dirty-blond hair screams artist. His scent is surprisingly sweet, like caramel, but his presence does nothing to stir my blood. He’s less repulsive than the feral outside, but only marginally.
My skin itches under his review. I fight the urge to smooth out my dress again. He doesn’t deserve to know how uncomfortable I am.
The man holds out his hand. “Phone,” he demands.
I stare at him for a moment, unsure what he wants. Then I realize. “Oh… right.” I pull my phone from my pocket and place it in his palm.
The man cocks an eyebrow. “Want to turn it off first, honey?”
I swallow hard as I take it back and turn it off before returning it to his hand.
The man puts my phone in his back pocket. I feel instantly vulnerable and alone; I hadn’t used the phone to talk to friends in ages — taking care of people when they’re dying tends to damage one’s social life — but my phone was still my link to the broader world. I knew, of course, that it would be confiscated when I arrived, but it feels unpleasant to be without it.
The man turns to look at Arlo. “I have to say,” he comments casually, “I think the producers made the right choice, putting this one on the late-night circuit. That dress. I mean, come on.” His eyes move back over me, assessing in a way that makes me flush. I don’t appreciate being scrutinized. “You know you’re about to be on television, right?”
I touch my dress, despite myself. It’s the nicest one I have.
Arlo clears his throat uncomfortably. “This is Derek Gladstone, the director ofOmega Girls After Dark.”
“Nice to meet you,” I mutter, though I can feel my cheeks getting hot under his scrutiny.
“Yeah,” Derek says, sounding bored. “You know whatOmega Girls After Darkis?”
“It’s the… the…” I swallow hard, trying to make the words come, but they stick in my throat like they always do when I’m nervous.
“It’s the red-headed stepchild ofOmega Girls,” Derek says.
I flush as his eyes flick up to my own red hair.
Derek reaches down and grabs a pretzel out of the dish on the table. He crunches down on it as he continues, “You were chosen from a lottery, right? The producers don’t know who they’ll get when they sign people up. They figure that out on the back end. So the prettiest girls with the most camera-friendly personalities wind up on the primetime show. You, little lady, and a few others, are the nighttime entertainment. Don’t worry, you’ll still get a chance to meet some packs… but we also need some late-night work from that ass of yours.”
I know all this, but I can’t make myself tell him that. I can’t even move, struck stiff and dumb in the presence of a dominant alpha. Standard Haven bullshit. In the face of any kind of authority, especially a judgmental one, I crumble.
So instead of telling him that I’ve seen the show and know all about the raunchy scenes, the strip-teases by the jacuzzi, the endless and pointless parade of alpha packs who come for interviews only to make fun of the omega in their confessionals… I just stand there, my cheeks getting redder and redder, watching as Derek eats another pretzel. The crunch seems to echo off the walls.
“See, the executive producers, the big timers, they made a deal with the network. WhenOmega Girlsis running, they’re contractually obligated to make content twenty-four hours a day. That’s where you come in. Look there,” he points at the corner of the room. “And there,” he points to another corner. “Those stationary cameras will capture most of our footage. Arlo here will be the only live cameraman in the house.”
I turn to look at Arlo, but his eyes are on the floor, his expression closed.
“Don’t worry, the cameras are only running when we’re live. You’ll get a five-minute warning, and a one-minute warning before the final alarm sounds to tell you we’re filming. You have some time before things get started.”
“And… there will be an a-alpha?” I ask.
Derek grins. “Your heat’s coming, and you’re worried we’re gonna leave you unsatisfied? We’re not that cruel, relax. There’ll be an alpha. A feral. He’ll knot you good, I’m sure, even if you’re not a typical omega.”
I lower my gaze at that, studying the floorboards. I know what I look like. I’ve always been curvy… bigger and more awkward than other girls. I came to terms with it long ago. In fact, I like my curves. I think they make me special and feminine… but it’s hard to remember that when someone’s sneering at me the way Derek is.
“No cameras in the bedrooms, by the way,” Derek continues. “Stupid FCC rules make it so we can’t have live sex on the screens. So make sure you put on a good show out here before you head under the covers. Your audience will expect it. Your heat starts soon, right?”
They tested my blood before I arrived. I’m not surprised by the question; omega bodies are a commodity. People talk about my heat and scent as if I’m not a person all the time. You would think I would be used to it by now… I’m not.
“Hello?” Derek says, snapping his fingers in my face.
