Page 66 of The Omega Project

“I can show you up to the suite,” a beta in a neat grey suit offers as we enter the hotel lobby, his manager badge on proud display. I have to admit, it’s an impressive sight, with a soaring mezzanine, enormous chandelier, and crowds of beautifully dressed guests skimming over the polished marble floors. The manager turns to Creed with a polite smile. “Mr. Cliff and the other gentlemen are in the VIP gaming room, if you’d like to join them.”

Our alpha prickles all over like a disgruntled echidna. “I’ll stay with my packmates.”

Clark had already warned us that this would be the hardest part, and I sidle up to Creed, my hand curling around the lapel of his jacket. “It’s a book club. Do you really prefer that over poker and brandy?”

“I prefer to be where you are,” he says simply, and it’s an effort to step away from him, when what I really want to do is drag him into the nearest alcove.There are a few potted palms around here that could provide a bit of coverage if we choose carefully…

The manager must have been through this routine before, because he hands Creed a platinum swipe card. “This will give you access to the penthouse elevator, Mr. Creed, should you wish to join your mates at any time.”

“Penthouse?” Emily’s eyes shine as they meet mine. “That sounds fancy.”

Creed’s resistance melts like hot wax at the excitement on her face, but he insists on walking us over to the elevator and watching as the manager loads us inside. Once we’re alone, I give a small chuckle. “He’s a little overprotective at times.”

The manager doesn’t look the least offended. “The Lyall Pack is no different, I assure you. But you’ll find that they are very down-to-earth once you get to know them.”

I exchange another wide-eyed look with Emily. We’ve both heard of the Lyall Pack, of course, since they’re the kind of farmers who use helicopters to herd their sheep, and along with this casino, they own most of the five-star tourist resorts in the state. But I didn’t think we’d actuallymeetthem.

“I should’ve worn a suit,” I mutter, pulling at the cuffs of my shirt. It’s a button-down, at least, but I’m wearing my favourite black jeans, while Emily looks like a dollop of honey in a gold sundress with strappy red heels.

“You look perfect,” she assures me, warmth kindling in her gaze. “In fact, if Creed’s in the mood, maybe we can even get a room later…?”

I’m tempted to push her up against the wall right here, but the manager has stepped through the elevator doors and is ushering us forward. I’ll admit, my mouth falls open as I take in more marble, another giant chandelier, and floor-to-ceiling windows that gaze out onto the glittering city. “Wow.”

“Welcome to the club!” Emily showed me a photo of Clark on her phone, so I recognise Derek’s friend when he strides our way. He’s wearing the kind of suit I’ve never seen out of a magazine, with one of those pocket hankies and a matching pink tie with gold dots, and I run my hands uneasily over my jeans. But he just gives me a friendly smile and draws us further into the room. “We’re so glad you could make it. This is Kat, my mate.”

The woman – a beta, but with the stance of an alpha – is vaguely familiar, and when Emily congratulates her on her last title fight, the pieces click into place. This is Katrina “Knockout” Nicks, the current welterweight champion. She’s also in jeans, but given her golden glow and superior muscle tone, she carries the look off with ease.

“Hey,” she says when she catches my eye. “Are you a scientist, too?”

I realise I’ve zoned out on the introductions and stick my hands in my pockets. “Student. Deferred. But I’m thinking I’ll go back and finish my environmental science degree.”

She gives me a respectful chin up, while Clark leads us further into the suite. He points out the nearest bathroom and the full kitchen, while I catch a glimpse of a sunken lounge and three other couples waiting, their necks craning in our direction. I recognise Dr. Finchley and a suave-looking older guy in a bowtie, but the others are strangers. “Fellow switches,” Clark says in a voice made for radio, “this is Emily and Soren. They’re both scientists, and something tells me they’re going to be the brains of this outfit.”

“We’ll definitely need next month’s book to be something other than monster porn, then,” Kat mutters, steering me over towards a chair.

It’s one of those sleek lounge suites where you sink into cushions like butter into a hot crumpet, and I swipe a damp hand through my floppy hair. “Never really minded a good dragon knotting scene, to be honest.”

That gets a snort from Emily and raised brows from the guy sitting opposite. He’s dressed even more elegantly than Clark, with the kind of smooth, blond looks that make me think of English castles and hunting hounds. So, it’s not surprising when he says in a crisp accent, “I don’t mean to offend, but are you in a switch right now?”

The woman next to him – a beautiful beta with golden hair and sharp blue eyes – smacks his arm. “Really, Griff? Let them grab a cocktail before you start pumping them for information.” She leans over and shakes Emily’s hand, nodding across the coffee table at me. “I’m Maddie, and your interrogator this evening is my mate, Griffin.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Emily replies, looking around with big eyes. “It’s a pretty fancy venue. Do you always hire out the penthouse suite for your book club?”

“That would be our fault,” the alpha female at the other end of the couch says, flashing her dark-haired mate a grin. “We’re the Lyalls. Lexi and Jack. We’d pick somewhere a little more low-key, but this is easier than carting around all our combined security teams, right?”

“Oh, that’s embarrassing,” Emily murmurs. “What I meant to say is we feel very lucky to be here, and you’re right, this place would definitely get our pack’s tick of approval.”

“We could always relocate to the college library for one of our catch ups,” Dr. Finchley says with a smile in Em’s direction. “No cocktails, but Professor Fall tells me the cafeteria crumpets are as delicious as ever.”

If Emily was flushed before, she’s wearing a rosy glow now, but to my surprise, it’s our hostess who chokes on her frothy pink cocktail. “Yeah, that library has a lot going for it,” Jack drawls with a cheeky glance in his spluttering mate’s direction. “Lexi and I have had lots of fruitful research sessions there.”

I’m pretty sure she pinches her mate as soon as she recovers, but a pair of servers sweep into the room with trays of drinks and plates of pastries, and everyone’s distracted while they pass them around. Emily and I put in our order for mojitos, and then I tune into a conversation about switches. They’ve all just read Dr. Finchley’s article on the Soulmate Phenomenon, and after a bit of debate, the sleek blonde beta turns towards Em and me.“What do you think? Soulmates is a little woo-woo, right?” She gives Dr. Finchley a fond smile, but I can see the scepticism in her sharp, blue eyes. “I mean, we all want to believe it’s true, but it must be hard for you to rationalise as scientists.”

“I suppose itshouldbe hard,” Emily says slowly, then leans over to grasp my hand. “The variable I didn’t expect, though, is Soren. If anyone can provide me with empirical evidence of a destined love, it’s him.”

“Damn, I’m convinced,” Jack says, tipping his glass in his mate’s direction. From the heated look she gives him, I wonder if our hostess is about to finish the party early, but she just kisses his cheek, and the conversation turns to a scene in the book they all read. I try to follow along, but I feel overheated in my jeans, and I’m distracted by the blond omega with the English accent. He keeps looking at me over the rim of his espresso martini, and from the way he’s making me squirm, I’m guessing Griffin works in either corporate takeovers or hostage negotiations.

“I don’t mean to pry, Soren,” he says when there’s another lull in the conversation, “but I can’t pin down your scent. It’s mostly alpha, but there’s a sweetness I can’t place.”

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