She could hardly keep her mind on visions of her future as Lady Willoughby. Her thoughts much preferred to dwell on the warm exhale of breath against her neck, and the sweet decadence of butterscotch and chocolate muddling her senses. There was no escaping Pack King’s scents, with the penthouse now seemingly saturated with their pheromones. At least one member of the pack was with her at all times, though they kept out of her way at home as promised. Still, between their regular rounds and the time they spent in their security room, she couldn’t help but be acutely aware of their presence.
Even if she hadn’t memorized their schedule, she would know which alpha was on shift on any given day before she’d even left her bedroom in the morning. If it was the big one, she’d hear his jaunty whistle in the halls and one of her assistants would appear with a protein shake and her workout gear. If it was the pretty one, Maude and Amelia would be even bubblier than normal and often they’d bring her some thoughtful nothing he’d provided—like a cup of lime juice and honey tea on a morning after she’d been up half the night coughing. And if it was the pack leader, she’d smell his caramel, whiskey, and tobacco sweetness in the air, since the first thing he did when he arrived was to peek in andcheck on her. She always pretended to be asleep, but she never was. She was always already awake, waiting for him.
The best/worst days were when she had an event because that meant all three alphas and the constant aching awareness of them. The heady mixture of their scents constantly threatened to undo her. It was embarrassing to admit to herself how much they affected her, but it was hard to deny when her panties were constantly damp and the slightest touch from any of them set her ablaze for days.
She’d taken to masturbating in the bathroom at increasingly frequent intervals, since it was the only camera-free room at her disposal. Many nights she tossed and turned in her bed, aching to touch herself, but too afraid of getting caught in flagrante. Of course, the pack leader had explained that once she went to bed, they’d turn off the camera in her bedroom. They would physically check on her a few times a night or simply stroll by her room on their rounds, and Bianca couldn’t give in to the urge to satisfy herself when they might hear or see her.
The very thought of it was enough to have her core clenching and slick coating her thighs. The idea of them watching her get herself off was both thrilling and terrifying. There was no way she’d manage to keep from embarrassing herself by begging them to fuck her into absolute oblivion.
She was unusually relieved to get out of the house. After several quiet days at home with her raging hormones and the objects of her lust, the distraction of a dull fundraiser was actually welcome, despite the fact that the event was being hosted by Serenity Rose Rhodes. Bianca had managed not to be in company with the other omega for a few months, since the infamous article had thrust Serenity further into the spotlight, but she’d had no choice but to accept tonight’s invitation.
After all, Bonnycastle Charities was a major partner in Serenity’s Second Stitch Project. They’d done an astounding amount of good together,especially with the added publicity from Genesis Valentine’s article and art exhibit. Bianca was secretly proud of how she’d managed to build on the momentum to attract more private donors with big pockets and eagerness to virtue signal. Some were the same people who’d previously voted for policies that contributed to the systemic abuse of omegas in this country. Serenity probably would’ve never sullied her honor by courting such deplorable bigots, but Bianca was happy to take their money. They could call it reparations or blood money or whatever else they liked, as long as they cut the checks.
Bianca brooded on her accomplishments, as billionaires milled around her, pretending they cared about anyone besides themselves. She would never lie to herself that way; she knew that she didn’t care about anyone else. She raised money for charity because she was good at it and it was the only way her fathers were willing to utilize her entrepreneurialism. She had so many ideas on Pack Bonnycastle’s other businesses, but she’d learned her place long ago and stayed in her lane. Those blithering idiots who called themselves her fathers didn’t deserve her insights anyway. Making them richer wouldn’t make them appreciate her more, so what did she care if they were wasting her talents on philanthropy?
The crowd quieted as Serenity made her way to the makeshift stage that had been erected in…whatever this big, sad room was called. Perhaps it was used as a gym or a multipurpose room of some sort? Bianca wrinkled her nose at the paper tablecloths and handmade centerpieces on the cheap folding tables.
Serenity stepped to a podium and tested the microphone before smiling at them all. She seemed more comfortable in front of a crowd than Bianca remembered. A true rags-to-riches story, the kindhearted fairy tale princess had apparently already adjusted to royalty even though she grew up in the gutter.
How could anyonenothate her? This shit just didn’t happen in real life. In Bianca’s experience, there were no knights in shining armor, no escapes or happy endings.
You either became the dragon, or you got eaten.
“I’m so grateful to Gen V for sharing my story with the world,” Serenity was saying when Bianca bothered to start listening. “Because of her publication, our collaboration on the art exhibit, and her forthcoming book, we’re finally having a national conversation about the ways our society has marginalized and harmed omegas. The words you see embedded in tonight’s pieces are hers, so I’ll let her introduce the art before the silent auction begins.”
Polite applause swept the room as Serenity Rose Rhodes stepped away from the podium to hug Genesis Valentine-Rossi before she took the stage. Bianca glanced at her watch irritably. This was such a waste of time. None of these guests really cared about the art, and most had already set their sights on what they perceived as the most expensive-looking or provocative pieces. Instead of talking about the art, Genesis would be better off telling them how much other pieces from the exhibit had sold for—get them worked into a feeding frenzy and spark some serious bidding wars. That’s what Bianca would do, but she was only attending this little fundraiser, not running it.
If she’d organized it, it’d be at Bonnycastle Privé or another upscale hotel rather than this sad little community center. But Serenity had wanted donors to see their dollars at work. So, she’d insisted they have the event here, in this repurposed historic downtown building that provided wraparound services for omegas in need. The tour of the facility had been tragic, though the omega patrons seemed happy to be eating their terrible food and taking their free omega health and wellness classes and accepting their care packages. Bianca had half expected someoneto start singing about the arms of angels like in those depressing dog commercials.
She’d much preferred Gen V’s exhibit at Pack Rossi’s gallery, which was in a beautiful, remodeled building that didn’t smell like grief and poverty. Bianca had been there on opening night and had been surprised to feel a bit moved by the stories told through Genesis’s journalism and Gabriel Rossi’s collages. Tonight’s tour had shown her that she did not, however, enjoy witnessing such stories firsthand. Looking into the eyes of some of those broken, misused omegas was way too much like looking in a mirror.
“She’s such an inspiration!” The beta beside Bianca whisper-yelled in her direction, assaulting her nose with a cloud of expensive perfume. Bianca gave the woman a bland smile, subtly shifting away from her under the guise of signaling for another drink. She let her smile slip into a sneer for a moment, before realizing a guest on her other side was watching her with amusement.
The man’s bright eyes twinkled with mischief, their beautiful amber hue striking against the golden-brown skin of his boyish face. He had a model’s high, defined cheekbones and a mouth that looked fluent in sarcasm. He rolled his eyes in the direction of the perfumed woman, stepping closer to Bianca conspiratorially. He smelled appealing and warm, like French toast with maple syrup, but not alpha. An omega, then, and one Bianca didn’t know.
“I’ve never met anyone more annoyingly altruistic,” he said in a low voice, those devious eyes drawing her in as he leaned closer. Up close, she could see golden flecks in his irises that made their color difficult to pin down. They were beautiful and so was he, with broad shoulders and narrow hips and well-defined muscles evident beneath his fitted dress shirt. His dark, close-cropped hair was a mass of perfect curls that lookedstylishly effortless. Bianca couldn’t look away. “It’s like, we get it, you’re a good person or whatever. I’ll just be over here judging your fashion sense and eating carbs.”
Bianca snorted a surprised laugh, then clapped a hand over her mouth. When was the last time someone had genuinely made her laugh? The other omega smirked, looking satisfied with himself.
“Callum Clifton-Merriwether, at your service,” he said, extending a hand. “Disgraced son of the Clifton-Merriwether shipping empire, showing up for my annual extortion scare. And you’re Bianca Bonnycastle, disgraced daughter of the Bonnycastle hotel and philanthropy empire, stuck doing another fundraiser when we should be out dancing because that dress is too good for these boring old broads.”
Bianca recognized his family name immediately, of course, but her mental records were coming up blank on a Callum. She turned her attention toward the bar, looking past him with practiced indifference. “Forgive me. I wasn’t aware Chloë had a brother, or that I was disgraced. If you’ll excuse me–”
Callum’s smirk shifted into a pout. “Everybody knows you should be mated by now and that you should’ve landed Pack Rhodes. Don’t be offended, I’m only a bitch to people I like. And I can always spot someone I’ll like immediately because it almost never happens. Most people are rancid cunts.”
Bianca had to bite her cheek against another laugh. People didn’t often strike up more than superficial conversations with her. She was very good at talking about a cause or making shallow small talk to donors, but her general demeanor did not invite friendly banter. Or friends.
Bianca realized Callum had taken her arm and was steering them through the crowd toward the bar. She absently greeted familiar guests as they passed, noticing how several people’s eyes widened and darted awaywhen they landed on Callum. His disgrace must’ve been well known. How hadn’t she heard of him?
“Anyway, most people only know Chloë because she’s the good little golden girl and I’m the offspring that should’ve been an alpha because I was born with a cock, but lo and behold I revealed super early as an omega and my surprisingly old-fashioned parents shit a brick and shipped me off to live with distant relatives in the country like some regency era omega who got knocked up by the stable boy.” Callum continued his monologue once they were relatively alone at the end of the bar. “Now I come around occasionally to remind them I exist until they throw money at me to make me go away. I know it’s tacky, but I’m way too lazy to keep a real job and breeding clinics aren’t cheap. Anyway, I’m sticking around for a while this time, so we should absolutely hang out. I need a friend in this crazy town.”
Bianca couldn’t help but be intrigued, despite her new associate’s obviously poor reputation and her own typical aversion to humans. There was something compelling about Callum. It was in the way he talked about his situation with cheerful nonchalance and seemed so comfortable with himself despite everyone treating him like a pariah. Bianca could empathize with his story, given the apparent similarities between their parents. She decided to engage.
“Do your parents approve of Chloë’s mates? I’d think alpha females would be just as offensive to traditionalists as male omegas,” she said. “And Chloë didn’t even try to attract Pack Rhodes. It was obvious she was even less interested in them than I was.”
Callum threw his head back and cackled a laugh that warmed Bianca’s chest. A few people turned disapproving glares in their direction but averted their eyes when they caught Bianca’s icy stare.
“I knew you didn’t want those boring little rich boys. You need something much more exciting. It’s why I’m still single. I simply refuse to be bored,” Callum said, flashing his mischievous grin. “My parents weren’t happy about Chlo’s alphas, but they couldn’t turn their backs on their fave. I knew she preferred women, but I think she was determined to mate with them to make a point. She’s the reason my parents lifted my exile. She sees the good in people. She even likes Saint Serenity, bless her heart.”
