Florence sets her glass on the table next to us and flicks the liquid off her fingers before she gives me one last tentative smile.Nothing like the beaming ones she’s been bestowing on me until this moment.
“Goodnight, Bruiser,” she murmurs.
And then she’s gone, swallowed up by a cluster of camera operators and crew.
I watch her walk away, and give in to instinct, my fists clenching uselessly at my sides. Not because she left.
But because someone, somewhere, taught her to fear an alpha. To fear me.
And my alpha—my whole fucking being—is suddenly determined to prove to her that I am not one of them.
Even if it kills me.
Confessional Transcript
- Florence Karlin
PRODUCER:You’ve met the Ashbourne pack now. First impressions?
FLORENCE:They’re… a lot.Not in a bad way. Just—very put together. Very practiced. You can tell they’re used to being watched.
PRODUCER:Anyone stand out to you?
(Pause)
FLORENCE:Grieves surprised me. He’s nicer than I expected. (A beat) Crap. that sounds bad, doesn't it? I just mean he wasn't what I was expecting from a former boxer. Quieter. Solid... like what you see is what you get. I like that.
PRODUCER:Do you think you could see yourself fitting into their pack?
FLORENCE:This is gonna sound like I'm playing coy, but I don’t know. Its too early to tell. I’m not here to be chosen because I’m convenient. Or because I make good television.(A beat)
If they choose me… I want it to be because they actually want me.
Episode 6: Wolf Among the Briars
I scan over the pool area, taking in the shrieking, splashing omegas with a grin. This must be what heaven is like. Never mind that we’re not supposed to actually touch the omegas in any way that isn’t completely gentlemanly. Not yet at least.
It's an exercise in self-restraint. I'm about ninety percent sure I’m going to fail.
I mean who can resist all these soft females, all the bright smiles, and the lingering looks. They’re delicious and I want to eat them all up. Sample each one and pick out my favorite. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Finding our omega.
I snort at the thought.
Because as much as everyone wants to believe we have a choice, we don’t. Forsythe’s grandmother has declared who weshould marry, who we will pick and so we shall. Of course, he hasn’t told us as much yet, but as soon as we saw Isadora was on the cast list, we all knew why.
The queen is tired of waiting for us to make the right choice, and so she’s forced our hand.
It sucks, but it's part of being a member of this pack.
I’m sure it's been made clear to Forsythe, that so long as we’re discreet, our fun doesn’t have to stop when we’re bonded. It certainly never stopped the late King from having his fair share of mistresses.
Why would it when the bond isn’t being formed out of love, but duty to the crown?
So even though I know how this is going to end, I’m going to keep my options open in the present. No limiting my connections with the other omegas. Who knows, maybe one of them will be perfect and I’ll want to keep them around as a bit of happy when I’m bonded to our monarchy chosen nightmare: Isadora.
Alright, Courtland, game on. Time to hunt for potential entertainment.I scan left, scan right. Omegas flirting, giggling, splashing, preening, all the usual opening-day nonsense. But just as I’m ready to start mentally sorting them into categories—fun, boring, maybe later— somethingstillcatches my eye.
Still—and somehow more compelling than everything else—drawing my full attention. An absolute feat given the amount of skin some of these omegas are showing.
