Many traditionalists believed alpha packs weren’t complete or legitimate until they found an omega—a critique occasionally levied against Glen Jacoby, who was unbonded. I imagined with Pack Madden’s interest in politics, bonding with an omega would increase their legitimacy with politicians and voters—none of whom, conveniently, were omegas anymore.
Duke smirked as he looked around at his pack mates. “At least one thing’s for sure, no matter how fucking ugly an omega is, you can always count on her having a sweet cunt.”
The other alphas smirked. I froze in total disbelief as the room spun around me. I couldn’t believe he had just said that.
“Look, Josephine,” Pierce said in his bored tone. “You’re twenty-three years old. Your records show you caused significant trouble while at the Academy. You can’t hope to get offers from any decent packs. Here’s how this will work—you will move in with us and we’ll bond. We will provide you with everything you need in the house. We can be generous. In return, you fulfill all of our needs and follow our rules. If you break our rules, there will be consequences. You obviously need a firm hand to keep you in line. You’ll get to enjoy being with a wealthy, highly respected pack. You can choose your own dresses for the parties and functions you attend with us. This is the best offer you’re going to get.”
“This has been a mistake,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking with anger as I stood. “This interview is over.”
“We have not dismissed you,” Duke snarled, moving to block the exit. “Sit back down.”
My inner omega instinctually wanted to obey alphas, but even she wasn’t impressed by this asshole.
“No, I would like to leave,” I said again, walking quickly to the door, trying to keep as much distance between Duke and me as possible.
“You’re making a mistake,” Hale growled as he lunged towards me, grabbing hold of my wrist.
My heart raced, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Last week during self-defense, we learned how to get out of wrist holds. My body moved seemingly without my awareness as I took a step towards Hale, placed my hand over his wrist, and yanked my arm down hard towards his thumb. He let go, shock flashing across his face, and I backed away from his reach. The door opened and Dave stormed in, quickly moving his body between me and the alphas.
“Are you alright?” he asked, looking down at my wrist.
I nodded my head, unable to talk. My wrist throbbed and was going to bruise, but I didn’t think it was seriously injured. Terror pumped through my body, but I was also proud that I had used my self-defense skills instead of freezing.
“Can I leave?” I whispered, my voice cracking a bit. The urge to wrap myself up in a pile of blankets in a dark, warm room was overwhelming.
“I thought we made clear that you were not to touch the omega or do anything to make her uncomfortable,” Dave growled at them. The alphas looked furious, and I was scared they would fight Dave or try to hurt me again.
“We have authority over the omega,” Henderson said snidely. I almost gagged as his putrid scent filled the room.
“She is not your omega,” Dave responded. “You have no authority over her, and you violated the interview policies. This interview is over.”
Dave gently ushered me out of the room and down a hallway. He was muttering under his breath. I couldn’t catch everything he said, but I thought I heard “little pieces of shit alphas” and “should be castrated.”
I asked Dave to point me to the nearest restroom. I leaned on the bathroom counter, feeling too dizzy to stand. The thought of doing another interview made me want to cry, even though a part of me—averysmall part—was curious about Pack Ashwood. But mostly, I just wanted to go home, get in my pajamas, and pretend I had a different life.
There was a knock on the bathroom door.
“Josie, are you okay?” Dave asked. “It’s been a while.”
“I’m fine,” I squeaked out, sounding completely unconvincing.
“Can I come in?”
I didn’t want to be in an enclosed space with an alpha, but Clementine trusted Dave and he had just come to my rescue. I hesitantly unlocked the door, backing away as he entered.
“Can I see your arm?” he asked more gently than I would have expected, keeping as much distance between us as he could.
My tears finally started falling. I couldn’t handle tenderness right now. I was feeling too vulnerable.
Dave took a deep breath and slowly moved closer, leaning down so our eyes were level and he was no longer looming over me. He gently took hold of my wrist. There was just the slightest redness, but I knew the bruises would form by tonight. Omegas bruised and injured easily—another excuse for alphas to control usfor our own protection.
Dave seemed satisfied that my wrist didn’t need medical care and released it.
He sighed, staying crouched down. “Sweet omega, you are a gift. Those alphas don’t deserve you. You deserve a pack that will worship the ground you walk on and gives you whatever you want and need. Do you understand?”
I realized Dave actually wanted me to answer, so I gave him a little nod, even though what he said didn’t make sense. Even before the Designation Laws, I had been taught that omegas existed to serve their alphas, not the other way around. I had never heard an alpha outside of Sam and Luc say anything to the contrary.
“Very good,” he said. “Now, dry your tears. We need to eat lunch, and then you’ll meet Pack Ashwood.”
