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“Yes, probably next week,” I reply.
“Good. Meet your pack fast then. Otherwise you’ll be going through your heat with the piece of trash this one dug up.”
Derek points over his shoulder at Arlo, who is watching me with those dark green eyes and an expression I can’t read. “She came without any guards,” he says in a raspy voice.
Derek shrugs. “Don’t need them now, you’re under the network’s protection. God help anyone who goes after one of our girls. Even the ones from the failure flats.”
I swallow hard.Failure flats.My eyes circle the room. This is what they call failure? It’s not brand new by any means, but the carpet, drapes and furniture are tasteful and cozy. Far from terrible.
Derek claps his hands as if he’s done with me. “So, you’ll meet several packs a week. They’ll come here, you’ll talk, flirt, hang in the hot tub. Fuck around with them as much as you like. At the end of the filming, you’ll pick your pack—if anyone offers for you—get your bite, then off you go.”
“Off I go… where?” I ask, despite myself.
Derek snorts. “Well the show makes it look like you’ve found your forever pack, but I hope you’re not naive enough to think that’s gonna happen here. More likely, you’ll leave with a couple shallow bites, last a couple weeks, and then you’ll be back to normal.” Derek leans in closer, his eyes flicking down to my breasts. “This isn’t a fairy tale, sweetheart. It’s about fucking. Even if we can’t show everything, that’s what the audience wants. We’re here to entertain, so don’t waste your time trying to find a perfect match for yourself, you get it?.”
“I’m not a child,” I say, squaring my shoulders, and staring up into Derek’s cold eyes. “I was asking if I’ll be obligated to stay with whatever pack bites me on the show.”
Derek snorts. “That’s between you and them.”
“No one’s allowed to bite you without permission,” Arlo says from the background. “If someone does that, we’ll call security.”
“Yeah, yeah, Arlo’s right of course. But don’t come crying to us with morning-after regrets, ok, sweetheart?”
“Right.”
“The pack interviews will have audio, because otherwise it’s boring, but the rest of the night-time stuff is just video. So make it look interesting, ok?”
“Ok.”
Derek hums with approval. “You’re submissive, I’ll give you that. Alphas love that shit. Maybe the audience’ll like you after all.” Derek moves even closer, and I stiffen as he bows his head and takes a long sniff at my neck. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Arlo straighten. He puts one foot out as if he’s going to intervene before stopping himself. For a moment, I could swear I hear him growl, but I must be mistaken.
Derek lets out a shuddering breath that makes my skin crawl. “Damn, you smell good. Best omega scent I’ve smelled in a while. Arlo, did you get a hit of this?”
Arlo doesn’t respond. His hands are tightened into fists, and he looks angry for some reason. Derek doesn’t seem to notice.
“Course you didn’t. Smart. No touching from the staff, so you might as well not tempt yourself.” He takes a long, low drag off my skin and curses. “Fucking lemon tart,” he growls. “If we had smell-o-vision, you’d be a primetime girl, that’s for sure.”
“There are… other late-night girls, right?” I ask. I step back from him and bump into the corner of a low bookshelf, wincing as the corner digs into my thigh.
“Yeah, there’re other girls, but you won’t see them much. They have their own houses. You’re in the center townhouse. The one on the left is empty for now, but I’m guessing they’ll get someone in there in the next few days. On the other side…” Derek shivers, his face twisting in disgust.
I have to force myself to swallow the anger that threatens to rise in my throat. Fuck this guy.
“The point is, they’re rejects, just like you. You can go see each other during the day if you have the energy, but no leaving at night, unless you’re heading for the jacuzzi. You need to be on-screen for it to count as viewing content. Don’t get me in trouble now. And don’t look so scared. You can handle it. Even if your alpha does seem like a rough one.”
“You met him?” Arlo asks, his voice sounding tight.
“Sure,” Derek grins, his eyes still on me. “Went to see him in prison myself. Had to make sure he was hot enough to be on camera. Ferals are off-camera at the mansion, but here, we need them to keep people’s attention, you know? By the way, nic rec, Arlo, he’s a beaut.”
“Prison?” I breathe.
“Oh yeah. Hard to find alphas for the reject houses. This guy’s hot, but he’s also real rough looking. I bet you like that.” He leans in and takes a deep whiff from my neck before letting out a shuddering breath. “So delicious.”
For a moment, I think I hear another growl from the cameraman, but when I look over at him, his expression is neutral, his green eyes watching the two of us with dull emptiness. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying like hell to hold back a stressed omega whine that threatens to rise in my throat. I get the impression that Derek wants me to whine.
He won’t get it out of me.
“Cameras come on at midnight,” Derek says, strolling toward the door. “Left some clothes in your room for you, they should fit. Get dressed up, and be waiting because your alpha’ll be here for you right when the cameras get running.” He opens the door, glancing back at me with a lecherous smile. “And remember, we need a good show. If we think you’re trying to sink this ship, you’ll have to pay back all that money you got when you signed up.”
