Page 52 of Royal Omega

The omegas come down one at a time, each dressed in a beautiful gown. Carissa is breathtaking in a Grecian-style blue dress with a gossamer cape that flows behind her as she descends the stairs.

When everyone is finally on their marks, Willard explains the rules, using the same canned language he’s used many times before. “In front of you are white roses, one for each relationship between an omega and a pack. The omegas and then the packs will pour their liquids into each of the vases. Each flower will change color to tell us what both of you have decided about your relationship. If both of you pours the ‘yes’ liquid into your vases, the flower will turn a bright, passionate red. You’ll be swept away on a glorious honeymoon vacation to a surprise destination, but your time onOmega Girlswill be over.

“If you both pick ‘maybe,’ the rose will be colored pink, and you will keep getting to know each other on our wonderful dates. This will also happen if one of you picks ‘yes’ and the other picks ‘maybe.’ If you or the pack pours a ‘no’ liquid into your vase, it will turn black, and your time with that pack will be ended. If all of your roses turn black, I’m afraid you will be eliminated. Now, let’s begin.”

Julia goes first, pouring her liquids in. When the packs follow suit, all the roses turn pink. Seeming happy with this result, she returns to her mark.

Cindy is next. She gets pink roses from all the packs, including ours. A concession to fucking Conrad that turns my stomach, but we had to do something to keep Carissa in the mix.

Now Mary steps forward. The whole group tenses, and the reason becomes clear very fast: one by one, as the packs pour their liquids into the vases, the white roses turn vibrant, deep black. Mary doesn’t seem surprised by this; in fact, she seems completely unemotional about it. Willard tells her she’s been eliminated, and she hugs the omegas before going back upstairs to pack her stuff. It’s very non-dramatic, and I wonder how they’re going to make it interesting when the show airs.

Carissa’s time has arrived. She pours her liquids into each vase with a steady hand before returning to her mark. The leader of Pack One pours in their liquid: pink. Now Pack Two, the Academics she was drinking with: there’s a murmur of surprise as the rose turns black. My eyes dart over to Carissa, wondering how she feels about it, but she doesn’t seem particularly bothered or even embarrassed. Maybe they both poured in the ‘no’ mixture.

The Southern Boys of Pack Four go next, and their rose turns pink... and now it’s our turn.

Conrad steps forward and pours our liquid into the mix, and I look away. I’m irritated that it’s going to turn pink. It should be fucking red; she’s the one we want.

A gasp rises in the group. Next to me, Ransom lets out a furious curse. I look up to find that our rose has turned fucking black. Conrad is standing beside it with a triumphant look on his face. He looks straight at Carissa, watching to see her reaction.

Carissa stares back at him, her eyes wide. My gut clenches as I see tears start to pool there.

“I’m sorry, this is wrong!” I say, stepping off my mark and striding forward toward the roses. I pluck the black rose out of the vase and throw it on the floor. “We didn’t agree to this.”

Willard’s eyes sharpen with delight for a moment before he controls himself, and plasters a look of concern on his face. “What do you mean, Henry? What didn’t you agree to?”

“Ransom and I didn’t want a black rose for Carissa, but Conrad wanted her gone. As a compromise, we agreed to give Cindy a pink rose in exchange for a pink rose for Carissa.” I turn to face Conrad, “But it appears that our packmate doesn’t respect us enough to follow through with our agreement.”

“I did what I had to do,” Conrad snarls.

Willard clears his throat. “Well, we’ve never had a situation where a pack disagreed with itself so strongly. Perhaps... do we need to re-do the roses?”

I say, “Yes,” at the same time that Conrad says, “No.”

Willard turns to face Izzy. “How do you feel about all of this, Carissa?”

Izzy swallows hard. “Well as you probably know, Willard, I chose the ‘maybe’ liquids for everyone except Pack Two.” She offers them a smile. “We had fun, but we just didn’t hit it off like that.”

Pack Two smiles at her. “We felt the same way,” one of them says.

“My feelings about Pack Five are hard to explain,” Izzy goes on, “But if they can’t find a consensus among themselves, then maybe...” She swallows hard. “Maybe it’s best if we stick with the black rose.”

“No,” I say harshly. “Absolutely not.”

“Henry...” Conrad starts, but I put up a hand to stop him.

“Izzy, I want you. Ransom wants you too. We can’t stop thinking about you. We want a pink rose.” I give Conrad a blazing look. “And if that doesn’t work for our packmate, then maybe we need to have a longer conversation about what that means for our pack.”

***

CONRAD SLAMS THROUGHthe door to our suite, storming into the room like a hurricane. “What the fuck was that?” he growls at me.

“What the fuck was that?” Ransom repeats. “Where do you get off askingusthat question after what you just did?”

“We agreed,” Conrad hisses.

“We agreed on pink!” I yell. “And you fucking know it.”

“And when I made a different decision, you decided to call me out on national television?”

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