“Oh, everything. The natural hierarchy and why it matters. How modern society has weakened men. Proper pack dynamics—why Omegas need structure and guidance. How to identify and eliminate toxic femininity from your life.”
I want to punch him so badly my fist actually clenches under the table.
“Sounds comprehensive,” I manage.
“It is. Life-changing, really.” He scrolls through his phone. “You know what, Ash? How would you feel about being part of the presentation? I could call you up onstage, tell your story about how you’ve always struggled with standing out, how you joined my mentorship program and are already seeing improvement.”
My stomach drops. “Well, I’m very much a work in progress right now…”
He laughs, but it’s condescending. “See, an attitude like that is exactly why you’ll never make it. A real man owns any situation, regardless of the truth. You fake it until it becomes real. Confidence is everything.”
I blink at him, biting back about fifteen different responses that would blow my cover.
“Sure, let me think about it,” I say carefully.
“Good. Tell me the morning of the event so I know whether to introduce you as a man on a new journey.” He stands, clearly done with me. “Be there at seven a.m. sharp. The venue address is on this card.” He hands me a business card with embossed gold lettering. “I’ll give you access to all the social accounts that morning. Be ready to have your mind blown by what you learn.”
We shake hands again, and he gives me that condescending smile. “Seriously, though, work on that scent situation. It’s not great.”
Then he’s gone, striding across the lobby like he owns it, and I’m left sitting here trying not to scream.
I turn and immediately spot Dylan near the entrance, leaning against a pillar like he’s just casually people-watching. Our gazes meet, and I stand quickly, heading toward him.
We don’t talk until we’re outside and hurrying to the four-wheel drive parked around the corner.
We’re halfway there when a shape peels off the wall near the side exit.
The Alpha from earlier who walked past me, who seemed to sniff me.
He steps into our path like he owns the air between us, eyes locked on me with a hunger that pricks my skin. His nostrils flare, and his gaze drops to my throat like he’s trying to read what I am through my pulse.
“Move,” he says to Dylan, voice rough. Not a request. “I want him.”
Dylan stops dead, shoulders squaring, and he shifts just enough to almost block me completely. “Keep walking,” he says.
The Alpha’s mouth twitches like he finds that funny, as if Dylan is a speed bump. “That’s not yours.”
My stomach drops.
His eyes cut back to me, greedy, certain. “I smelled him earlier. Omega. So rare to find a male Omega.”
Dylan’s hand finds mine and clamps down hard, grounding me. “You don’t know what you smelled.”
“I know what I want.” The Alpha takes a step closer, and the pressure of him rolls over me like heat off asphalt. His gaze meets mine. “Tell your friend to back off. You’re mine.”
My throat tightens. Dylan’s body goes rigid in front of me, the kind of stillness that means violence is one breath away.
“He’s not talking to you,” Dylan says, and his voice has lost every trace of friendliness. “We’re leaving.”
The stranger reaches for me as if he’s going to grab my wrist.
Dylan moves first with a hard, controlled strike of his forearm to the Alpha’s chest that drives him back a step, and he’s in the man’s space immediately, eyes bright and dangerous.
“Touch the Omega,” Dylan growls, “and I will break your face.”
The Alpha’s stare flicks down at Dylan’s arm, then up again, and for a second, it looks like he might test him just to prove a point.
Then his gaze slides back to me, possessive and furious, like he hates that my body is not reacting the way he wants.
