Page 57 of Royal Omega

“Shit,” echoes Lily from the other side of the camera. “We’re going to need to clean you up before we can start. You have your backup clothes with you?”

Carissa chews her bottom lip again, looking around for her bag of extra clothes. “I think I left them in the van.”

“Ok, I’ll call the guys and get them to bring it back. You can change in the van when it returns. In the meantime, I want you alphas to move front and center so we can get some b-roll of you mixing the ingredients, ok? Carissa, you can stand in the background where we can’t see how big a disaster you are. Can someone get her a clean apron?”

“Lily!” someone calls from a distance. “We need your help over here!”

Cursing to herself, Lily turns away from us, signaling for the cameras to keep filming as she hurries toward Randy and Beatrice’s stand.

An intern rushes forward with an apron, throwing it in Carissa’s direction before heading off in the direction of another lemonade stand.

Wondering what is happening at Randy and Beatrice’s booth, I watch absent-mindedly as Carissa turns toward the rear of the lemonade stand. With her back to the general public, she stands, facing me and my packmates, as she takes off the wet apron. Based on her expression, I’m guessing her mind is elsewhere, and she tugs the fabric away from her body without realizing how exposed she’ll be.

As soon as the apron drops away, the air around us shifts. Wet fabric still clutched in her hand, Carissa looks up to find us staring down at her, eyes fixed on her chest where her dress is saturated to her skin. My cock pulses, and I swallow hard as she turns her wide hazel eyes to mine. She trembles a little, and runs her hand down over her chest, breathing hard. Her scent perfumes the air, sweet and tangy as it mixes with the lemonade, and if I don’t have her soon — ifwedon’t have her soon — I think we might all just die.

My pack mates and I are circling her like hawks, ready to strike, and I’m as close to the edge as either of them. We’re going to fuck, that’s clear. What happens next, I’m not sure. I can’t think that far ahead. I don’tcarewhat happens next, if I’m being honest. All I can think about is sliding my cock home while Carissa screams my name.

“Fuck, Izzy,” Ransom says, stepping closer.

She doesn’t move her eyes from mine.

“Conrad?” she whispers. “Are you —?”

I’ll never know how she would have finished that thought. I’ll never know if we would have committed acts of public indecency because before she can ask me whatever she planned, a voice calls out from behind her.

“Hello hello hello!”

Carissa stiffens. It takes me a moment to realize why, but as I look over her shoulder, my whole body tenses. Iris Castle is walking toward us, a bright smile on her face like she doesn’t have a care in the damn world. Iris Castle — the mastermind behind my parents’ destruction.

Gulping hard, Carissa offers me a pleading look. Her eyes are big and innocent like she’s caught between a rock and a hard place.

My eyebrows slam together. What is she asking me to do here? Is she begging me to behave myself? Not to air her dirty laundry in front of her mother? If that’s what she’s hoping for, it’s wishful thinking. I’m not going to let her get away with whatever she’s here to accomplish.

Whatever happened over at Randy and Beatrice’s booth is going to be nothing compared to the explosion that is about to erupt over here.

I’m not going to let Iris Castle get away unscathed.

As if Carissa can read my resolve in my eyes, she nods, accepting that things are about to get bad. Then she turns to face her mother, her shoulders thrown back as if she’s a warrior going into battle. “Hello, Mother,” she says shakily. And then to my surprise, she hisses through her teeth: “What the hell are you doing here?”

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