I go to take a step away, but he nabs my hand. “That’s twice you’ve walked away with the taste of me on your lips. I guess with these guys making a play for you, I’ll do the same and remind you we’re leaving together tonight. He and his pack can go fuck themselves if they think I’ll be as polite as I just was if he tries to make you feel like that again. Go stand with your girls where I can see you while I finish up.”
One moment he’s there and the next he’s over the other side of the bar to serve the crowd and I’m left wondering what the hell he means. Sim and Tris are staring at me, mouths popped open as I walk towards them, and I kind of remember I didn’t tell them about meeting the sweet-smelling Alpha.
“What?” I snarl, getting overly defensive. Definitely using my bitchy mood as a smokescreen.
They ignore it. Tristan glares at Pack Lowly. “Graham is being extra creepy.”
“He’s tanked. And being overly forward. Jesus, can’t you girls put in a bid for me… it’s going to be an absolute nightmare spending the weekend with them.”
“Well, we would, but Omegas aren’t allowed to bid,” Simona says, grimacing. “At least the money goes to a good cause. I mean, you can always just take board papers over there and talk work for the weekend.”
“Sim!” Tristan admonishes, while she shakes Simona like a rag doll.
“What?” Simona wobbles.
“Not helping! Don’t worry, Ho, we’ll come with you. You are not going to the Lowlys without us.”
The three of us turn again to watch the countdown to the last few seconds of the auction. All my nightmares are coming true… Pack Lowly hold the top bid at forty-five thousand dollars.
Maybe the auction is actually nothing more than fate and destiny reminding me once again how cruel life can be. I take another sip of my drink, hoping to see something different on the screen and behind me, like Pack Lowly having their souls eviscerated by a shadow demon.
Graham laughs, ruining my hopes and dreams, and the shithead tips his head triumphantly at me and the screen behind me, but then his face sours, and a gasp echoes through the crowd.
“Holy fuck, Heidi…” Tristan whispers. And her whispering has me nearly vomiting in worry. Tris is never quiet. Never.
I slam my eyes shut as I spin back to face her.
The crowd around us explodes in noise, and their energy electrifies, making it buzz over my already sensitive self. But it’s Tristan’s quietness that I take as a sign of how messed up the auction is.
“What happened? I ask, still keeping my eyes squeezed shut.
“Have a look, Heidi,” Simona screams in my ear. “Have a fucking look!” Behind me, I can hear Pack Lowly exploding in a volley of angry expletives.
And that’s the point I realise something truly unexpected happened. But instead of feeling a sense of being trapped, a rush of relief washes over me. Because without looking, I’m pretty sure Pack Lowly did not win the auction.
Twisting around, my eyes find the screen. With barely a second to spare, a new bidder—Pack Alastor—obliterated the competition with their one and only bid of two hundred grand.
ChapterEleven
HEIDI
Abid like that does not come without consequence. Especially in a room full of bodyguards. There’s a small, subtle shift in the mood of the room. You can easily discern the frustration and disbelief from a few of the Alphas, but it’s the abruptness of my security team’s that is more of a concern.
The MC doesn’t miss the general shift in the room either. He takes over the stage in a flash of exuberance and tries to get the audience back on to raising money and having fun. His voice is overly animated, the air he gives off is light as he forces jokes, but he successfully diverts most of the room to the next item up in the charity auction.
An original glass blown vase by renowned Omega artist Daisy-Mae. She’s very nearly the hottest thing in the art world at the moment. The critics can’t get enough of her demure nature and coy designs. And the Alphas here are the same, hot for her that is, because she’s also packless. She should have been the one nominated for the weekend away or maybe she was until my Scorned Girls threw my name in the lot.
Both Sim and Tristan look at me with a guilty grimace.
“We clearly didn’t think that through.” Tristan blabbers. “I’m like the worst best friend ever!”
“Not worst besties ever. Best besties, although you owe me one,” I smile like a crocodile as I finally see my possible way out, that was there all the time. “Love you more if you help me escape. I got a hot date.”
“Who with?” Simona asks, shocked.
I snort at Simona. “Is that important?”
“Gods yes,” Simona says, nodding her head eagerly as a wicked smirk breaks over her face.
