I couldn't sleepthat night.
The hotel bed was clean, soft and comfortable. I was exhausted from the trip and all the mingling.
But that gods-damned dragon alpha wouldn't get out of my head. Every time I tried to think about something else, he'd pop back into my mind, forcing me to remember our interaction and his stupidly handsome face.
Crimson wasn't what I expected. Sure, he was still haughty and arrogant, but not quite as bad as I’d thought. For now. He'd get worse as the competition wore on and more of the omegas fawned and drooled over him, boosting his already-inflated ego...
The next morning, I ate a surprisingly good breakfast provided by the hotel staff and met the rest of the contestants in the lobby. I noticed the small, scaly cameramen tucked into the corners of the room, ready to film any drama. They mainly blended into the background, so it wasn't hard to ignore them.
Unlike me, my friends looked well-rested and ready to meet the day. Muzo bounced off the walls as usual, and Poppy seemed in brighter spirits despite his ever-present anxiety.
I noticed the other omegas gave me a wide berth. Was it my size? I tried not to dwell on it too much.
"Morning, guys," I said.
Muzo wriggled his eyebrows. "Hey, Mr. Popular."
"Very funny."
"Hey, for once, I'm not joking. Did you know you held the longest conversation with Crimson yesterday?"
I stopped rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "What?"
Muzo huffed, crossing his arms. "He barely spent a second with me and Pops. Seriously, the guy speed-ran the rest of his meet-and-greets."
"I didn't know that," I said.
"Yeah, 'cause you went and sulked by the water after storming away from him."
I frowned in embarrassment. "I wasn't sulking. I just didn't want to talk to him anymore."
Muzo smirked and leaned in. "You should've seen Pretty Boy. He was freakingpissedthat you spent so much time with Crimson!"
I assumed he meant Alaric.
"It was the other way around," I mumbled. "Crimson spent time with me. After spilling soda all over my white shirt, no less."
Alaric's voice suddenly blared out haughtily behind me. "You should be grateful that a dragon spilledanythingon you."
"Why are you constantly manifesting in my private conversations?" I growled.
"First of all, they're not private. You're all mic'd and on television," Alaric sneered. "Second, you shouldn't even be here with that attitude, Taylor Chalchin."
I sneered back, raising my lip to reveal a not-yet-shifted fang. "Don't say my full name. How do you even—never mind. Mind your own business, will you?"
Alaric didn't back off. "Thisismy business. I'm here to win, and you clearly aren't. So you should go home. That's all."
He strode off like he'd made a final grandiose statement.
I sighed. "What happened to him needing losers to be a winner?"
"Sheesh, that guy wakes up on the wrong side of the bed every single day." Muzo gasped. "Oh, look! It's the host!"
The whirring automatic door revealed Gaius, the gryphon shifter, and his camera crew entourage. He wore a new Hawaiian shirt—today it was sunny orange. He beamed a charismatic smile as he greeted us.
"Good morning, contestants! How was your first night at the hotel?" After a few people responded in various positive ways, Gaius went on. "Great, glad to hear it! Now, I'm excited to announce your very first challenge on the Dragonfate Games. It's time to ditch the clothes, because today you'll be competing in your shifter forms!"
A murmur of shock and excitement went up among the contestants.
