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Valid question. “I’ve been contracted to be this season’s on site doctor.” He eyes me a little closer and gives an approving nod. “So if you’re not planning on joining if you’re invited, what are you doing here?”
Desmond gives a self deprecating laugh. “Trying to talk myself into it, I suppose. The need for an omega grows stronger every year.” He glances around us, eyeing the surrounding alphas like he’s making sure no one is paying attention. “Since you seem like you get it, I’ll admit, I’m considering buying out Heat Paradise and changing how things are done. Make the system better, because I can’t for the life of me figure out why they think this is the best method.”
I want to applaud the man because I’ve been saying it’s an outdated system for years. And someone with his power and deep pockets? I have no doubts he’ll pull it off someday. “It needs changing,” I agree. He nods and returns his focus to the crowd. Sensing the need to switch the topic, I say, “Think the large turnout is a result of only five omegas emerging last year?”
I must say it a little louder than I meant because the man on my other side, another wealthy alpha I’ve seen in passing, decides to cut in. “Everyone is hoping for at least eight today, but I think that’s a bit greedy. My guess is seven.”
I fight the urge to retort, because seven is so much less greedy than eight. But for men like him, the more omegas, the higher his chances of getting on the show. It’s alphas like him who give the rest of us who actually want an omega to love a bad name. Because there are a lot of us out there. Take Desmond for example.
Thankfully, I’m saved from responding as a hush falls over the crowd and the announcer, Mrs. Violet waltzes on stage. She calls name after name, and with each, only two designations are called. Alpha, beta, beta, alpha. It continues on and on, the names on the pamphlet they gave us dwindling more and more as she reads them off.
The other alphas shift nervously as more time ticks away and no omegas are announced. One a few rows down even leaves his seat to pace in the back of the auditorium. I’m used to high stakes situations, always having to remain in charge of my emotions while taking care of patients, therefore I stay calm, cool, and collected in my chair.
That is until the doors open behind me, drawing my attention. Bright light spills into the dim area, backlighting a beautiful, dark-haired angel. An adorable crease forms between her brows at the attention she gains, but she quickly wipes it clear and descends the aisle next to me with her head held high.
As she passes, I get an even closer view. She’s disheveled in the most delicious way. Her face is marred with mud, her clothes strewn with sticks, not to mention there are rips in her jeans that aren’t a fashion statement. And to top it all off, a leaf falls from her hair onto the pristine auditorium floor. I catch the barest whiff of sweet pears and my nostrils flare. Is that coming from her? What I wouldn’t give to take a deeper inhale… A rumble emanates from my chest that surprises me and I have to will myself not to rise from my seat to snatch her away from this place.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never wanted to chase after a woman like this before, but it’s as if my alpha instincts have awoken. I regret my choice to not follow after her when she trips on the stairs. My heart leaps in my chest and time seems to slow as I watch her fall. Thankfully, she’s caught by the alpha enforcer escorting her. Good. I would’ve hated to have to march down there and growl at him for letting her get hurt.
I shake my head to clear it from the strange thoughts, but it doesn’t do much. It’s like this woman has completely taken ownership of the alpha in me. I’m beholden to her beauty, transfixed on her, watching every detail of her interaction with the enforcer twins. I know she’s off limits to me, but something feral claws at me from the inside, trying to convince me that she’s mine to claim. The steam she seems to have with the twins doesn’t seem to calm it either.
And judging by the possessive posture of the enforcer she walked in with, I’m not the only one having trouble controlling myself. It confuses me as much as it intrigues me.
I completely miss the announcement Mrs. Violet makes while she greets the woman, too focused on what her backstory could possibly be to look the way she does. All too soon, she’s maneuvered backstage by the other enforcer, slipping out of my sight. Her scent fades away, and I miss it almost instantly.
It takes considerable effort, but I force myself to return my attention to the ceremony. Desmond side eyes me, amusement in his gaze. Perhaps I haven’t hidden my reaction to her as well as I assumed. The only thing curbing my need to pursue her is my tight grip on the armrest. I take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves, knowing whatever the outcome of the ceremony is, I have to find her again.
Time passes relatively slowly when you’re chopping at the bit to get a glimpse of a certain dark-haired beauty again. To my surprise, there are only three people left, and no omegas announced. The crowd is nearly feral. The air rings with desperation, so much so I can almost taste it, including the fear from the enforcers on the sidelines. It will be extremely hard to hold back the amount of alphas that are here, and I’m afraid they’ll riot if no omegas are presented.
Even Mrs. Violet—who is slightly batty, but normally as cool as a cucumber—seems to glisten with a sheen of sweat as she pulls on her shirt collar. The second to last woman drinks from the cup and she announces, “Alpha.”
“No fucking way,” I growl, finally losing my cool. If no omegas are presented this season, well, I don’t even want to think about what that will mean. Although, it’d serve some of these assholes right.
A male leaves the stage next after being announced as a beta, but that was easy to tell by the way his eyes constantly scan the floor. The crowd takes a collective breath as the enigmatic woman from earlier steps onto the stage, a glint of something in her gaze I can’t quite put my finger on. Her eyes are wide open like a deer caught in the headlights as she lifts the chalice to her lips and sips.
Instantly, her all-consuming scent floods the building. Succulent pears. I’m suddenly reminded of walking into an orchard at the peak of pear season and plucking one directly from the tree. I can almost imagine the slick, I mean, juices dripping down my chin as I took that first bite.
So it was coming from her… It’s as if I’m finely attuned to her, able to pick her scent out from the packed building, and it seems to affect me first. With a sinking realization, I know what she is before it’s even announced.
Regret wraps itself around my heart, squeezing until it feels as if I’m being buried alive. As the doctor for Heat Paradise, she’ll be my patient. There’s no way she can ever be mine, no matter how much my alpha nature wants to claim her as such.
“Verity Graves. Omega.”
Every alpha erupts from their seats, growling and posturing toward one another. The building descends into chaos, but I don’t take my eyes off Verity. My legs are already carrying me toward her. The urge to claim her is so violently strong, it overrides every other rational thought.
“Thank you to everyone at home who has joined us for the reveal of this season’s youth,” Mrs. Violet says into the microphone. Her arms are held up trying to placate the crowd, while also trying to appear calm for the cameras broadcasting everything to homes around the country. “As soon as the council meets to iron out the details of the one omega this season, we’ll announce her alphas and introduce them to the world. Voting for early favorites will be available afterward.” Her words are lost to the crowd though, and the light indicating a live feed shuts off.
An alpha enforcer rushes out from backstage and grabs Verity, throwing her over his shoulder and rushing her away from me, away from my eyesight. That bastard! A vicious snarl leaves my lips along with a declaration I don’t want to take back, “Mine.”
Chapter 4
Jedrik
Fucking pears. The scent clings to me like it was sprayed from a skunk… a sweet smelling one. Like its gland was replaced with the heavenly aroma. Damn, that’s a terrible analogy. She marked me without meaning to, and the fucking smell of her has me near distraction. It’s stuck on my hand, and like an addict, I keep bringing it to my nose to get another sniff. I fucking hate it.
Omegas. They’re a blight. Draw you in until they can suck your soul free, then toss you away like you meant nothing… At least that’s our experience when we ended up on the council’s farce of a show to try and win a spot in an omega’s pack.
Ten years ago, Andrik and I won one of the lottery picks and ended up on Heat Paradise. We thought it would be the best time of our lives. Weeks spent at Hidden Haven Manor, countless dates and group activities. We were favorites among society, raking in the numbers to end up with one of the eight omegas. But when it came to the final vote, we weren’t chosen. It was the first week we weren’t in the lead, and with a snap of the fingers, we were gone like we never mattered at all.
