Page 58 of Shaken Knot Stirred

I could tell my aura was ripening. That was the only way I could describe it. It got weighty and bigger, like it was plumping up. And it began to influence people.

Nico and I had been working on a plan to escape for a long time. I’d been absolutely convinced it would not work, that no one would be dumb enough just to unlock a door to a high security facility. Nico had insisted that I try. I’d told one of the guards I was just going to dash to the ice cream truck that always circled the block. I’d smiled sweetly and focused on the energy around him. His aura went all fuzzy. I was absolutely enthralled. He’d unlocked the door, and ’’d walked out and into Nico’s arms, who happened to be the driver of said ice cream truck.

I had gotten free from one confining institution, but I’d found myself effectively under house arrest. Nico had been 20 and I was a baby omega, still technically 16, a runaway from B.O.W. custody, and under criminal suspicion for what my parents had done. Trafficking omegas still happened every day despite all the protections and programs put into place. If Nico had been found harboring an underage omega, well, straight to jail. Especially considering he already had a record.

I knew when my first heat was coming, too. I hadn’t had any omega friends to ask what it was like. No elders or big sisters. All I had were movies and pack romance novels, and a disastrous encounter with porn. First heat was often portrayed as chaotic, emotional, and always painful in some way.

Nico had been waiting for me to ask for sex. Fucking gentleman. I had cried myself to sleep countless times that year, thinking he didn’t actually want me. But noooo, he was being noble and respectful. That ended when we had sex for the first time under the stars and tasted our first champagne. He’d taken one sip and said it tasted like me.

I raised the glass to my nose once more. I supposed my scent was not too bad. Nico smelled fresh and woodsy, even tainted with Beg’s pine. But the best scent I had ever caught was Alistair’s in the Delta Lounge. It was warm and savory, yet sweet. Fresh coffee with tons of cream and a plate full of pastries that left your fingers feeling buttery. I sighed, knowing I had left that deliciousness behind.

“Aria, come sit,” Cora snapped me out of my daydreams as the paragon melted into the sofa with us. Paragon auras were fascinating. They projected out into the room quite a distance. They had an iridescent quality to them, shimmering with the aura signatures of everyone around them. The thing that made them stand out, however, was that they lacked a single bond marker. I couldn’t even see blood ties to parents or siblings or birth packmates. But it was more than that. They amplified the auras around them, too, making them stronger and more expansive. I wondered what Lana’s aura would be like after spending time with a paragon.

“Cora, baby,” the Paragon purred, “you must stop losing jewelry. Your alpha is out of her mind.”

Cora slumped. “She told you?”

“No Yuki Kin is here tonight. She got a new commission from your alpha as a replacement. She will stop buying you jewelry if you keep losing it.”

Then the paragon turned her eyes on me and practically scoured the skin off my bones with a searching look.

“Aria, this is Moxie,” Cora said with a conspiratorial look on her face.

There really was no need to be coy. We all knew what this was about – social climbing with the trust fund set. The paragon couldn’t see auras, but the look she gave me made me wonder if she could sense something others didn’t. Aria unfolded a dainty tablet and scrolled through what looked like a guest list.

“Have you been approached by any of our packs?” Aria said, her voice dripping with potential. “Do you have any introductions in mind that I could facilitate?”

At the convention hall, my plan had been to cozy up to the omegas of packs, and that had been unsuccessful. Here, in a higher tax bracket, seducing the paragon first might be my golden ticket.

I crossed my legs and leaned into her, letting my cleavage show. I’d chosen another Charisma dress, this one emerald green silk with flowy layers that skimmed my curves. It was hard to read her emotions as her aura absorbed everything around it, but I didn’t need auracle skills to know Aria was absolutely cut throat.

“I haven’t made any prior arrangements,” I said, pitching my voice low and sultry, “and I’d be ever so honored for a paragon’s advice on a match that would be beneficial.” I put a little emphasis on the word “beneficial.” The wry smile that spread across her lips told me she got my meaning. “Eric Grayhouse has been suggested to me.”

If Grayhouse had a reputation with the bottle girls at the Vig, he certainly would have a reputation at the Paramour.

I met the cold calculation in her eyes. We both knew that Grayhouse’s worth was not in his personality, demeanor, or even his knot. It was in the number of zeros in his bank account.

She checked her tablet again. “Besides Eric, would you mind, darling, if I also introduced you to the Esther and Morganvillepacks? The Esther pack omega is currently pregnant with her third child, and the alphas,” she paused to let me jump to my own conclusion, “are keen on finding someone to share the lives.” Translation: they’re having rut issues and needed someone very fuckable. They might be more desperate and willing to agree to a lucrative pre-bond agreement, but that desperation might tip them into possessiveness making them harder to shake.

I gave her a non-committal sound. “And the Morganville pack?”

She leveled me with a look to assess my capacity for raw honesty.

“Their scent matched omega had a difficult childhood. She was mated to an alpha three times her age. Her scent match pack…” she paused again as if trying to find the right words for polite society.

“Eliminated the alpha,” I completed for her.

Aria raised an eyebrow at me, appreciating the matter-of-factness and lack of histrionics.

“It has left the poor girl with some aura damage. She’s been seen by some of the country’s greatest physicians and healers, and while her pack is incredibly nurturing, a second omega would boost the healing effects of pack bonds.”

She was presenting me with two very different options. One, I would become a fuck machine so that their breeder could breed more. Or two, serve as someone’s life support. All things considered, neither one of those were really terrible arrangements if you were a non-romantic like me and weren’t holding out for a scent match.

I kept my revulsion to myself. In the movies, scent matches were always Prince Charmings and full of happily ever after. It was a lie we liked to tell omegas. No one told you whathappened when you fell for your scent match pack, but not the psychopathic pack lead.

“And there is,” she tapped her exquisitely manicured nail on the edge of her tablet, “one other.” She was assessing my worth this time. “There is an alpha who’s looking to form a new pack,” her voice could barely hide her uncertainty. Maybe it was disapproval? “He’s insisting on an alpha-beta pairing, someone who shares his business interests.”

“Oh,” I said, hoping to signal that I found that interesting, but I was not yet swayed.

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