Page 12 of Knot Forever

No. I have two options.

Resign myself to leaving tonight with Adam and Julian.

Or get up on that stage and pray that someone takes a chance on me. Someone like either of the two alphas I met this evening.

I could run. I doubt I’d get very far, but if things don’t go my way, maybe Melia will help me. I could travel out of the city, try and get an under the table job somewhere.

My shoulders slump. Anyone can see that I’m an omega. No-one in their right mind would hire me, not without proof that I’m of age.

Fucking hell. In another year, none of this would have been an issue. My life would have been my own. Suppressants for my heats? No problem. No pack? No problem.

Right now? It’s all areally big fucking problem.

Chapter six – Nova

The lights dim, and I dart through the tables to the side of the ridiculously overdone stage. There are displays with long pink feathers trailing everywhere, lights, and all of the omegas are sat on cushions. There’s more than a dozen of us, pretty birds dressed up like jewels on display.

My lip curls. It’s like some mockery of a damn nest.

A tall, thin woman with a stressed face rushes up to me. “Auction?” she asks abruptly. When I nod, she points at a spare cushion. “Sit there. We’ll be starting in a sec.”

She’s off before I can respond, her hand pressed against her ear as she listens into an earpiece. Gingerly, I make my way over to the cushion, sinking down and fidgeting as I try to get comfortable.

“Gross, isn’t it?” Glancing up, I offer a grimace to the omega opposite me.

“It really is. It’s like we’re little pets.”

The omega snorts, leaning back on her hands. Her emerald green dress glitters against bronzed skin. “Isn’t that exactly what we are, though?”

Her voice is tart. I like her immediately. “I’m Nova.”

“Evangeline.” She wrinkles her nose. “It’s a mouthful, I know.”

The lights dim further, and a spotlight beams into our faces, almost blinding me as a voice rings out.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the warmest of welcomes to this evening’s Omega Auction! We have a number of lovely omegas here this evening, all on the lookout for the pack of their dreams.”

I just hear Evangeline’s retch next to me, and bite back my grin as the omega turns to us. Violet Maura was a well-known omega singer around twenty years ago, but time hasn’t been kind to her. She’s dressed a little too ostentatiously in a glittery navy blue ball gown, looking like Cinderella’s fairy godmother with alotmore eyeshadow.

Huge fake eyelashes blink together as she throws us a clearly practiced smile.

“Now,” she says, injecting a little more severity into her voice. “Before we begin, I’ll just run through some house rules.”

There’s a low boo from the crowd. Some of the alphas here have clearly imbibed a little bit too much, but Violet’s smile barely falters as she leans into the microphone.

“The Omega Auctions match omegas with a pack for a period of thirty days. At the end of those thirty days, they may choose to remain with the pack, or to go their separate ways with no hard feelings. It’s an opportunity to test the waters, to assess each other’s suitability and get to know each other in an environment that mirrors the living situation should the arrangement become permanent.”

She clears her throat. “By participating in the Auctions, the omega agrees to remain with the pack for the full thirty days. In return, the pack will provide care and support appropriate to the needs of the omega.”

My skin prickles. I can’t see past the lights, but I can feel the eyes of the Williams pack on me, crawling over my body.

Appropriate to my needs.Sure.

As the auction gets underway, I watch omega after omega climb off their cushions, fluffing up their skirts and gushing empty platitudes into the air as the fairy godmother coos over them. Bidding is furious, each omega left blinking under the lights as one by one, we’re sold like cattle, led off the stage to be presented to our potential packs like a gift. We may as well have bows around our necks.

My stomach churns as the omega calls Evangeline up, and she winks at me. Her auction is smooth, and she’s snapped up by a pack I don’t recognise. She seems to, though, from her grin.

“Good luck,” she hisses as she’s led past me, off the stage.

---