I wanted to argue. Wanted to list all the reasons this was a terrible idea. But deep down, she was right. I'd spent years building walls. Building a future where I'd never need anyone, never depend on anyone, never be vulnerable. And I was exhausted.
"Fine," I said. "One night. But I'm not doing anything I'm not comfortable with."
"Obviously. That's literally how consent works." Kira was already pulling me toward my bedroom. "Now go shower. You smell like contractor and desperation."
"I do not smell like desperation."
"You smell like someone who hasn't gotten laid in two years."
"It hasn't been two years."
"Eighteen months. I keep track." She shoved me toward the bathroom. "Shower. Now. And shave your legs."
"I'm not shaving!"
"SHAVE YOUR LEGS!”
An hour later, I was wearing a black dress I'd forgotten I owned, heels that made my legs look longer than they were, and enough makeup that I barely recognized myself.
"You look hot," Kira announced.
"I look like I'm trying too hard."
"You look like a woman who's trying to get laid." She grabbed her clutch. "Now let's go before you change your mind. Did you put on your scent blocker?"
“I did. I even took my Omega Beta blocker pill.” I confirmed.
“Good, now let's go.”
The cab ride to Club Obsidian took twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of Kira explaining the club's rules—consent is mandatory, safewords are respected, voyeurism is allowed but participation requires negotiation, all are expected to behave themselves or get thrown out by security.
"And the owners?" Kira said as we pulled up to a nondescript building in the Meatpacking District. "They're wolf Alphas. Brothers. Gorgeous, dominant, completely unavailable. Every Omega and Beta in the city has tried to get their attention. No one's succeeded."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you're going to see them and I want you to be prepared. No need to put your sights on them." She paid the driver and we stepped out onto the sidewalk.
There was already a line. Mostly Omegas, a handful of Betas, a few Alphas who looked like they spent more time in the gym than anywhere else.
"We're not waiting in that," I said.
"We don't have to." Kira flashed a black card at the bouncer—a massive Beta who looked like he could bench-press a car. "VIP passes. Courtesy of a very grateful client."
He waved us through without a word. Inside, Club Obsidian was exactly what I'd expected and nothing like I'd imagined. The main floor was elegant with low lighting, velvet furniture, and a bar that gleamed. Private rooms lined the upper level, their frosted glass windows offering just enough visibility to intrigue without revealing. Well, some of them showed exactly what was happening inside.
And the smells. It seemed as if I could scent every person in the building, a side effect of the blocker. My senses heightened and my scent weakened to the point of nonexistence. I smelled leather, arousal, and something darker, something primal that made my hindbrain sit up and pay attention even as my conscious mind recoiled.
"Breathe," Kira said. "You're fine."
"I'm fine," I repeated.
"Good. Now let's get you a drink."
We made our way to the bar. Kira ordered us both vodka tonics while I tried not to stare at the scene unfolding on one of the couches. There was a male Alpha with his Omega sprawled across his lap, her eyes closed in bliss as his hand moved between her thighs. No one was watching them. No one cared. This was normal here. But my eyes were drawn to his hand and what it was potentially doing.
While I didn’t want the asshole tendencies that Alphas had, I did want the sexual release that was rumored to exist between an Alpha and an Omega. I’d settled for a few Betas to satisfy my sexual urges, but none of them could fill me the way that I needed. Anatomically, it was impossible. However, I’d come to understand and accept that to be the case.
"Your drink," Kira said, pressing the cold glass into my hand.
