Page 3 of Their Perfect Omega

Tate elbowed me in the stomach, snapping me back to reality. “What did they say?”

I followed the three of them inside, not wanting anyone to overhear. We never knew if someone could be lurking around or have a microphone sitting on the top of our wall. Jonathan was responsible for doing sweeps of the property daily to make sure it was secure, but nothing was foolproof.

Our dog, Gizmo, had been a big help in deterring fans and paparazzi from attempting to come onto our property, but if someone was determined, they’d find a way.

“After the police were called last weekend for that party, they want to assess us every six months now.” I ran my hand down my face and took my bag from Avery. “They think we’re spiraling and are going to become a risk to all of the omegas we don’t even have access to.”

Cal groaned and dropped his bag in the middle of the entryway, kicking off his shoes right next to it. “Then they should let us be in the match again. Problem solved.”

Gizmo trotted around the corner, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. I dropped my bag next to Cal’s and squatted down to greet the Rottweiler. He was so much more than just an added layer of security to our property; he was a comfort.

“Who was a good boy while we were gone?” I butted my head against his and rubbed his ears before standing. “They’re coming tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Avery grunted and snapped his fingers, calling Gizmo to him. “That’s no notice.”

“On the bright side, the house is clean. Anya is the best.” Cal left his shit in the middle of the entryway and walked into the living area, plopping down on the large L-shaped couch. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m beat. Still might go out later after a nap.”

Tate kicked his bag and shoes to the side. “The house isn’t going to stay clean for long now that your messy ass is here. Maybe we should lock you in your room to keep the house clean.”

Ignoring Tate’s jab, Cal put his feet on the coffee table and turned on the eighty-inch television mounted above the fireplace. “What time are they coming tomorrow?”

I sat down in an armchair, putting my bag at my feet. “They wouldn’t tell me. The only thing they said was they were assessing all areas; cooperation, judgment, emotional regulation, and reaction.”

We all looked over at Avery, who had walked across the living room to the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the backyard and the city. Out of the four of us, Avery was the worst off. He’d gone from a smiling, carefree alpha to a brooding one overnight. He was really living up to his last name, Payne, that everyone called him by when we were in boyband mode.

Three years ago, we’d matched with an omega, but she hadn’t even been with us a full twenty-four hours before she rejected our pack. One day, we were submitting our match application, and the next, our newly released single became an instant hit. None of us expected it to happen, but the matching was done, and we welcomed our new omega.

Or tried to.

The first day she arrived we’d had a performance and we’d stupidly taken her along with us. We hadn’t anticipated the sheer number of people trying to get into the club, and when we arrived, it was pandemonium. None of us were prepared and we certainly didn’t have the security or safety plans in place that we had now.

She’d been separated from us before we’d even set foot in the venue, and she had OPS on the phone before we noticed she was missing. We thought we’d been ready for an omega—and we had been—but our situation changed overnight and now we were facing the consequences.

Avery still had Gizmo next to him, petting his head absently. “I’m fine.”

Cal snorted. “Will you be fine when they stick an omega’s scent in your face, Payney boy? Maybe if you didn’t go crazy from it, they’d take us off the blacklist.”

Tate smacked Cal on the back of the head as he passed behind the couch. “You’re one to talk. How many betas have you slept with since the last assessment?”

My pack was falling apart, and I didn’t know how I was going to fix it. We were under so much pressure from the record label, fans, and the world that it was hard to focus on strengthening our pack bond. Jonathan and Anya helped some by seeing our basic needs were taken care of, but it wasn’t the same as having an omega. There was no innate need for betas, and even if we had fifty, it wasn’t enough.

We needed an omega, but we weren’t allowed to have one until we left the spotlight permanently, and that was a few years away due to our contractual obligations. But was it worth it? Some days, I wanted to say fuck it and deal with the financial and legal fallout from breaking our contracts.

“You aren’t going out tonight, Cal. Not the night before our assessment.” I stood and looked down at him. “Is that clear?”

Cal rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “You aren’t the boss of me.”

Here we go.

My temper flared, and I grabbed him by the front of the shirt, yanking him to his feet. “You aren’t going out,” I growled. “This isn’t just about you.”

He shoved me half-heartedly with a growl. “Fuck you.”

Gizmo barked at us, and I let Cal go. I hadn’t asked Avery if he’d trained Gizmo to break up our spats, but anytime things got heated and the dog was around, he’d bark or put himself between us. Without him, we’d probably already be a dissolved pack.

Tate ran a hand over his face. “I think we should all go to our rooms for the night. I’ll order us some pizzas.”

Sounded like a plan to me.

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