A large hand settles on the back of my neck.
“Was the plane journey not enough, omega?” Kaiden’s lips brush my temple as he inhales. “Clearly not, your scent is…”
My heart pounds as his nose nuzzles my throat and he releases a groan.
I wet my lips. “That isn’t exactlymyfault, alphas.”
I try to step out of his hold, towards the doors that I know lead into the main hall—
His grip around my neck tightens until his fingertips meet around my throat. When he tugs me back against him, I have to fight to keep my eyes from rolling.
“I don’t want anyone else near you when you smell likethat,” he grits out, words rumbling with a growl.
Fuck, I love it when they’re possessive.
But I’ve got a job to do.
“Good thing there’s double the industrial neutralisers in there…” I nod to the doors ahead. “And no one will bethisclose to me.”
“Better not be,” Val grumbles from behind.
I give them all a sweet little smile as I look over my shoulder, then peer up into Kaiden’s eyes above me. “Although this is fun...” My fingers wrap around one of his,slowly plying it away as I lower my voice. “You need to think of another way to stake your claim, alphas.”
His lips part, and the grip on my throat falls away. I smirk as I look between my alphas. They all heard me, and for once, it isn’t just Sylvan who looks confused.
I sigh, turning and heading towards the doors, pushing them open while the air hums with my alphas’ frantic thoughts.
I’ve been dropping hints for days.
Besides saying,I want you to sink your teeth into me, I’m not sure what else they need.
I’ve been keeping my neck on full display, tying my hair up more, pushing into their teeth when they do give me a nibble.
Nothing.
I gave the courting gift first; the least they can do is bite me.
As we enter the main room, I’m greeted by a staff member who checks my pass and starts escorting me to the stage. We chat casually about the event while my alphas follow diligently at a distance, providing subtle support. But once we’re in the back, I make a point of calling them to me, introducing them to friends and colleagues whose eyes often widen as they take them in.
I try to hide my smile, but I’m damn smug about it.
Individually, they’re gorgeous, but as a pack? Undeniable.
I knew what would happen when I decided to invite them here; I knew people would look. I can’t blame them, but now that it’s happening, my omega is pacing inside, snarling whenever someone stares for too long.
But every time that feeling of jealousy rises, I find their eyes on me.
Always on me.
Soon, it’s my time on stage, and I fall into a natural rhythm. From the sidelines, they watch, and I make a pointof using the shears they bought me. I have my dad’s too, but they remain in my pouch like a grounding weight.
By the time the three hours have gone, I’ve cut, dyed, and styled my model’s hair to perfection.
The session ends, and I’m taken off by one of the event leads. We discuss future conventions, a more permanent role at future events, and as we trade details, my pack approach.
Again, everyone turns to look at them. Why wouldn’t they? Even in t-shirts and jeans, they scream alpha, military—but they’re mine.
Even when Val holds out a bottle of water, a clear indication that they are indeedmyalphas, I catch pining omegas in the distance. Even the event lead lingers before giving me a small smile and leaving.
