Page 12 of Royal Omega

Chapter Six - Carissa

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ICAN’T TELL IF THEanimosity is real or if it’s just for the sake of the cameras, but either way, a little chill runs down my spine. Somehow, it hadn’t occurred to me that I would be competing with the other omegas on the show. Now I’m realizing that I’m going to look like big competition... and that might make it pretty difficult to make friends.

Three more omegas come in, one at a time: Julia, Mary, and... I can’t remember the third one’s name, but she smells like vanilla. Each time a new omega appears, she’s placed in front of Willard, and we move down one mark. Eventually, I’m close to the door where we came in, my feet aching, my cheeks hurting from all the smiling, and the weight of alpha scent starting to grate on me.

Finally, Willard claps his hands together. “I’m so excited to welcome all of you to a new season ofOmega Girls!” He looks around at us with a bright smile, and we all stare at him awkwardly before Randy starts clapping. It gets all of us started, and someone even lets out a “woop!” at the end, which makes Willard beam.

“You’re probably noticing that there are only five of you here today, instead of the usual ten. That’s because we’re going to do something a little different this time. Five omegas, five packs. This will mean you’ll get a better chance to get to know one another. But it also leaves more room for twists later.” Willard winks at me like I’m going to love the twist. I seriously doubt that’s true. “There will be no rose ceremony tonight... er.” He glances at the producer. “Sorry, can I do that again?”

“Of course, Willard,” someone calls from off-screen.

“A little rusty, it seems. Forgot about our ‘weekly’ rose ceremonies.” He chuckles to himself and clears his throat. “There will be no rose ceremony this week. Instead, we’re going to give you all a little more time together. Let you test the waters, try some things out. Enjoy yourselves.”

There’s another silence, which we fill with more clapping, though it feels even more forced this time. Willard grins at us for a long minute before he finally holds up his hands and gives us a break from the applause.

“Now! You must be wondering about this partition in the middle of the room. I’m sure you can all smell the alphas, but you can’t see them. And that’s just the way we want it. You see, we’re going to do something different this year. Each of you is going to step into a booth here, and the packs are going to step in on the other side. You won’t be able to see each other, but you should be able to smell each other very clearly. Why not take advantage of those strong scents you have? After all, love is blind. If you would, please step into your booth when you’re ready.”

The omega in me loves closed spaces, so when I’m given the go-ahead, I don’t hesitate; I step into my side of one of the booths without a second thought. There’s a lovely plush chair set up for me, with soft twinkle lights strung across the low ceiling. I sigh as I settle into the chair, slipping off my evil shoes. I touch the wire partition in front of me, which is clearly designed to let me scent whoever is on the other side of the wall, though I won’t be able to see them.

To my right, there’s a little screen stuck to the wall. It lights up, just as the door on the other side of the booth opens. “Pack Five,” the screen says, just as a wave of scent hits me hard. The peppermint hits me first, like a burst of enthusiastic, bubbly delight, and then the sultry combination of cedar and orange. Finally, there’s a wave of intense, male sandalwood that makes me squirm.

“Shit,” a deep male voice whispers on the other side of the booth. “You smell that? Honeycomb and ginger? Damn. Are they all going to smell this good?”

“Henry,” a rumbling voice replies. “They can hear you.”

“I hope they can. Omega, you smell like a goddamn dessert, and I’m going to eat you up.”

There’s a resounding growl from a third voice, and my heart pounds in response.

Before I can say anything, though, a sound tears through the booths. It’s a human being’s voice, but there are no words, just a sort of animalistic roar, followed by a sharp crack of wood breaking, then a gasp, and the distinct sound of someone’s belt opening. The wood around me starts to tremble and shake like it’s going to fall apart, and a distinctive female moaning fills the air.

“Omega, get out of the booth,” a voice commands from the other side of my screen. It has to be the third voice; the third alpha. But this voice melts my insides so completely that I can’t think; can’t process his words.

When I don’t hop-to his order, the voice barks, “Omega, out, now!” and I race to the door and throw it open.

I walk along the booths to the one in the center, which seems to be trembling so forcefully that the walls are starting to sink inward.

“I think someone ripped off the wall between the two sections of the booth,” an omega nearby says. She bites her juicy bottom lip in concern, even as her wild woodsy scent fills the air.

We stand there for what feels like long minutes, listening to groans and whimpers, gasps and snarls. The shaking of the booth becomes rhythmic, as if timed with specific thrusts. My skin is buzzing with need, and I can feel my scent blooming, along with the other omegas around me. There’s no point in denying it — this shit is fucking hot.

Finally, a few of the associate producers step forward, reluctantly discussing what they can do about all this. Lily pulls open the door on our side, and I suck in a breath at the intensity of the smells that emerge: roses, chocolate, and sea salt mingle with the omega scent of one of the females from earlier: vanilla.

Since no one seems inclined to stop me, I step closer, peering over Lily’s shoulder through the doorway. Just then, another associate producer opens the door on the alpha side, flooding the booth with light. The alphas and omega are together in the center of their confessional, having full-on sex.

My eyes widen as I take in the erotic scene. The omega is seated in her chair, which matches the one I was using in my booth. A male alpha is sitting in the chair beneath her, his pants down around his ankles. The omega is bouncing in his lap, making little noises of pleasure as he fucks her hard. The chair is banging against the floorboards of the booth, causing it to bend and groan in time with their rhythm.

The alpha’s cock is pummeling into her ass, his hands clutching her knees as he pulls her wide. I’m grateful for her sake that — when we’re turned on — omegas make slick for both their ass and pussy; it makes pack sex easier for all of us, though I suppose alphas could also carry astroglide with them all the time. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.

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