“No accounting for taste, I guess.” Bianca rolled her eyes, then frowned. “You said breeding clinics are expensive. Are you trying to get pregnant?”
Callum shrugged. “Not yet. Just getting prepared. I can’t wait around for some rich, hot, not boring alphas to come along and put a baby in my butt. I want kids and I’m not going to let a lack of mates get in the way of what I want. I make it a priority to do what I want. You should try it sometime.”
Bianca glowered at him silently, pointedly sipping the fresh glass of champagne the bartender set before her. Undaunted, Callum smiled and patted her arm. Most people would’ve lost that hand, but Bianca decided she didn’t want to dismember him. Yet.
“Got it. We’re not ready to discuss your personal life. We’re not quite there yet, but we’ve got plenty of time,” Callum mused, glancing around the room with eager interest. “How about you tell me about those three snacks that haven’t taken their eyes off of you all night?”
Bianca’s cheeks warmed a little and she barely managed to will away a visible blush. What the hell was wrong with her? Bianca Bonnycastle didn’t blush or laugh or flirt with good-looking disgraced omegas. Oh god,wasshe flirting? The idea made her vaguely panicky, which pissed her off enough to ground her again.
“They’re my bodyguards. My parents pay them to watch me,” Bianca replied dismissively, carefully not looking toward Quentin King or his packmates, though she knew exactly where each alpha was positioned. “The disgraced daughter of Pack Bonnycastle needs to be guarded against danger. Or worse, further embarrassment.”
Callum laughed merrily again and affectionately rested a hand on her forearm. Bianca’s skin buzzed beneath his touch. It felt nice. She took a long sip of her champagne.
“Atta girl! Own that shit!” he exclaimed, lifting his glass for a toast. Bianca lifted her glass and clinked it against his. “To the Disgraced Devil Club! Hmm. That’s not quite right. Okay, I’m still workshopping the name, but let’s fuck some shit up!”
Bianca couldn’t help but smile. “Maybe Disgraced Devil Delegation? I like the alliteration.”
“Perfect!” Callum exclaimed. “As the founders of this elite and exclusive society, our first act of debauchery should be hitting the town. I’m not kidding about that dress. You look too damn hot to be stuck in this humdrum crowd.”
Bianca felt her cheeks warm again, but she willed it away. He wasn’t flirting. She’d just met Callum, but she could tell he was one of those big personalities who was prone to exaggeration. His compliments were probably just his way of being friendly.
Besides, after seeing the way Serenity and Genesis filled out their dresses, Bianca was acutely aware of her shortcomings. She hadn’t been blessed with the luscious curves of so many omegas. Objectively, she knew she was pretty, and she had great breasts, but they made her top heavy. Her hips were negligible, and she’d worked tirelessly for a tight, toned bum that looked good in her clothes, but didn’t really turn heads.She could imagine Serenity at the club with Callum, shaking her plump ass to the delight of any onlookers, but Bianca would just look foolish.
“I wouldn’t even know where to go,” Bianca hedged. She was not ahit the towntype of person. Her social calendar was all fundraisers and the occasional brunch. Had anyone ever even invited her out for a night of bar hopping or partying? Of course not. She would’ve declined if they had. “And I haven’t danced in years.”
In actuality, Bianca had never done the kind of dancing Callum was talking about. She’d been to formals, had been trained in ballet, tap, and ballroom, but had never just danced for fun. She hadn’t grown up making up silly routines with her friends or learning choreography from popular music videos like some of the girls at academy. Even back then, she’d been different. Her interests and temperament hadn’t aligned with the other teens.
Astrid, an alumnus of the Damara Academy for Exceptional Omegas herself, had been extremely popular, center-back and captain of the academy’s all-star football team, and president of her class. Bianca had gotten strong grades and had participated in all the enriching extracurriculars expected of her, but she’d never led anything or even truly felt much like part of a team. She’d been too busy trying to be everything Astrid and her fathers wanted her to be.
She was too careful, too unwilling to look foolish or be vulnerable. And the one time she’d let herself open up, she’d been so utterly devastated that she’d rebuilt her walls thicker and higher than before. Even if she hadn’t finished her senior year online and graduated early, she would’ve struggled to make friends. Openness just wasn’t in her nature.
“You’re walking around with that body and not flaunting it? That’s a travesty we simply must rectify.” Callum clutched his chest dramatically before taking her hand and tugging her toward the nearest exit. “There’san omega-friendly club nearby that I’m dying to check out, where I guarantee your bodyguards won’t be the only ones looking at you like they want to eat you alive.”
Bianca bit her lip, unable to believe she was considering this. It was hard to say no to Callum’s eager expression and contagious energy. Besides, she was bored, and the fundraiser was already winding down. Maybe she’d meet some interesting alphas at whatever club they went to. Someone who could take the edge off the constant ache that had taken up residence in her core since Pack King barged into her life. Hadn’t she planned on a last hurrah before mating? Perhaps fate had sent Callum to help her with that.
“Fine, but I need to get my things and say my goodbyes,” Bianca said finally, pulling her hand free of Callum’s and turning back toward the room.
“Yessssss!” Callum caught her hand again and twirled her before nudging her on her way. “If I’m right about the vibe, you’re going to love it. It’s so you: classic and elegant and sexy as hell. We are going to have a blast!”
Bianca caught herself smiling as she walked away. And she might’ve put a little extra sway in her hips—negligible though they might be—just in case he was watching.
Chapter seven
Dante
“Idon’t like spontaneous deviations from my plans,” King grumbled, methodically scanning the area as he made another circuit of the block. The line for Nocturne stretched nearly that far, and it was still early. “She has no history of partying, and she doesn’t even know this Callum character. He’s obviously trouble. Why would she agree to this?”
Dante chuckled, clocking the handful of alphas scattered throughout the omegas and betas in the queue for the club. To hear King talk, you’d think they were a pack of grumpy old men who never partied. It had been a while, sure, but probably because they’d gotten a lot of it out of their systems when they were young, before the military matured them and curbed their more self-destructive tendencies. And, according to his colorful stories, Van had definitely done his partying back in his college and NFL days.
According to their research, Bianca Bonnycastle had never had her hoe stage. Dante thought that was too bad. If anyone needed to cut loose and blow off some steam, it was the tightly coiled snake lady he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about. For the entirety of the short drive, he’d been wanting to eavesdrop on the conversation happening in the back of theRolls Royce Phantom (Dante’s favorite loaner from Pack Bonnycastle’s personal fleet), but he knew King wouldn’t like it if he cracked the partition window or turned on the intercom without Bianca’s request to do so.
He wondered if Van was participating in the conversation, or if he was just listening to the two omegas talk. Dante was pretty sure Bianca had been slowly warming toward the big lovable alpha. The guy had a way of growing on you. Maybe he’d maneuvered his way into sitting between them, surrounded by their alluring scents. Dante bet it smelled like heaven shut up in that small space with the two of them. His dick twitched.
“Relax, King,” Dante admonished gently, forcing himself to focus before he lost himself in another daydream. “You’re great at adapting the plan when necessary, and her security has been a cake walk so far. We could use the deviation to keep us sharp, and she could use a friend who encourages her to pull the stick out of her ass. Just like I do for you.”
“Dick.” King struggled to maintain his scowl, but those full lips of his twitched beneath his mustache, and Dante caught a flash of gold when he spoke through his growing smile. “Since when do you care about her friends or her ass?”
Dante didn’t respond because he didn’t have an answer for that. He wasn’t sure when Bianca had become more than a job—a means to fund his five-year plan to see King’s Guard Security profitable and expanding. At some point she’d piqued his interest, and she hadn’t lost it yet. It was odd, really. Women often caught his attention, but they never kept it long. Though it’d been years since any of them had slept with anyone outside of the pack, Van still liked to call Dante a rake, as if they were on that regency romance show,Waverly Hills.
