Page 4 of Pack’s Prize

An omega.

We’d never needed one–never wanted one. Our arrangement was untraditional, sure, but then, so were we: a couple of artists and a daydreamer who had found each other, then unexpected, unmoderated pleasure in each others’ bodies, designations be damned. Michael had picked me up in Paris, at an exhibition, and then we’d added Elias to our duo in Copenhagen, and since then, there had been no one else.Wewere all we needed.

Until now, at least.

This was the latest in a long line of Michael’s nonsensical schemes, starting nearly a decade ago when, after a drunken night out in Grenoble, he had stuck his hand halfway down my pants and whispered hot in my ear,“I promise, Theo, you’ll like it.”

I didn’t want to do this, to play along with Michael’s stupid game.

But, that night in Grenoble… Ihadliked it, hadn’t I?

I always did.

I sighed, and looked out over the dance floor, trying to use my eyes and nose to see and scent out that perfect woman, the woman that would make this latest of Michael’s schemes come to life, that would win him back to Theo and me, that would melt the tension from his shoulders.

There were many omegas here tonight, all of them entrancing in that special way they had–a little more sensual, a little more luminous, than a beta. They were wonderful to capture, on film or canvas or paper, although I’d given up my portraiture long ago to focus on the business side of the art world with Michael.

Given upwas a generous description, I thought, unable to keep the bitterness from my heart even after all these years.Taken from mewas perhaps more accurate, but tonight wasn’t the time to be thinking about thelastomega I’d painted.

And this wasn’t the place. Club Heat. Forget paint and canvases, I doubted the alphasherewanted to capture omegas with anything other than teeth and claws.

My eyes caught on a woman at the bar, her body studiously casual, like a fresh artist’s model unaccustomed to posing. Her back was turned, but there was something about her that made my instincts sit up and take notice, my cock stir, my nose seek out her scent.

I looked away.

I sighed again.

“I’ll be right back,” I whispered to Elias, and he nodded his head.

“Bathroom?”

“Bar,” I said, and made my way through the constellations of dancers towards the omega.

I could pick out her scent as I approached, despite the crowd, and realized that I’d already noticed it. Her specific sweetness had twined its way into my psyche as soon as I’d stepped in the door tonight. I’d thought it was simplyomega, but–

Jammy plum, sweet ripe cherries, rich like aBourgogne, and I wanted to drink her in, to taste her flavor, to let her linger on my tongue, my skin, my sheets.

The light changed, illuminating her face, and for the first time, I saw her: melting eyes, lips red like the dark fruit she smelled of, cheeks rouged with a natural blush–had my drifting scent put it there? I suddenly feared it had been one of the other men here tonight, and was startled to find an instinctual hatred of the thought rush over me, the hair on my neck pricking against my unbuttoned collar.

Had it been so long since I’d been so attracted to an omega?

Since Paris.

Since Louise.

I shook my head. Why could I not keep her from my thoughts tonight?

The memory fell away when the beauty at the bar turned to look at me, eyes heavy-lidded and ringed with black, black lashes. Her mouth opened slightly, soft lips parting.

She held out her hand for me, and I took it without thinking.

At the touch of her skin on mine, blood pounded through my body, through my brain and down into my–oh, forfuck’s sake.

Then she spoke, and her low, musical voice made me lean closer until she was practically whispering in my ear:

“Hello, alpha.”

CHAPTERFIVE

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