“Understood.” Warren nods, and the handler steps to one side, letting him look straight at her. “Hello, omega,” he says, his voice steady and low. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
She doesn’t move. But her jaw is locked so tight I can see the muscle ticking, a frantic little beat under her skin. Her throat works, a slow swallow like she wants to speak but is afraid to let the sound out.
Fighting the urge to step closer, I watch as her fingers curl against the bottom edge of that too-tight corset, knuckles whitening. Is she bracing herself or holding on for more? I can’t tell.
I wish I could fucking scent her.
Warren tries again. “Can you tell us your name?”
Her mouth opens, and I hold my breath. But then her little chin trembles, and something inside me snaps tight.
It’s a hard, instinctive pull in my chest, the urge to jump the rope, grab her, and carry her as far from this place as possible. The image hits me so fast it steals my breath.
I shove my hands into my pockets so I don’t do something stupid.
Warren hasn’t moved. His gaze stays locked on her, sharp and analytic, but beneath it, I sense the same protective surge tearing through me.
“Omega?” Warren steps a little closer to the rope. The guard notices and tenses. “Are you in pain?” he asks softly.
Her lips part. Her wide eyes flicker between us. Then her breath catches—a tiny, fragile sound, but it hits like a gunshot.
Warren’s head snaps toward the guard. The calm disappears, stripped away in an instant. What’s left is cold, lethal focus.
“I’m claiming this omega,” he practically growls. “Get her out of this fucking tent now.”
The Big Tent
Tansy
The drugs pumping in my veins make everything feel distant and close all at once. My limbs hang loose, and my thoughts smear, but every time an alpha’s eyes catch mine, my nerves flare. It feels like someone struck a match under my skin, and the fire races outward before I can stop it.
I’m pulled forward, off the stiff couch and toward the long velvet rope. Two alphas stand just beyond it, watching me like they’re terrified one wrong step will make me snap in two.
The first alpha ishuge. He has broad shoulders, chest making the buttons on his dark button-up strain, and his hair is a mess of dark curls. His deep eyes follow every movement I make.
The other alpha is sharper, with cleaner lines, wearing a perfectly tailored suit and a tie that feels out of place. His blond hair is combed back, and his eyes are a cutting blue.
Both men look at me with something fierce in their faces. I don’t know if it’s longing or desperation, but the moment their eyes lock on me, heat curls low in my belly, sharp and wrong and overwhelming.
My face goes hot as a thrum grows between my thighs. It’s a heavy, pulsing awareness I shouldn’t be feeling.
The suppressants are supposed to kill this. They’re supposed to make alphas feel like background noise. Mute instincts until I’m nothing but calm.
Except right now, standing inches from those two, my body doesn’t feel muted at all. It feels awake and raw, my clit thumping in time with my heart.
My knees nearly buckle as the beta drags me past them. Both alphas move like they’re going to follow, but the guard steps up to them, blocking their path.
“Payment is taken at the main counter on the other side of the stage,” he says, pointing in the opposite direction. “Once you’ve settled your bill, they’ll direct you on where you can collect her.”
Settle your bill.
The words echo weirdly in my head.
Neither alpha responds. They just keep watching me as the beta pulls me away, their eyes slipping up and down my body like invisible hands.
Do they think I’m big, too?
The cold night air slams into me, brutal and icy. It steals my breath for a second, scraping through my lungs like frost.
