1. Avery #4
“Ugh,” she groaned, pulling a handkerchief from her tiny clutch to get the rest of the lipstick off before she turned to Linden with accusing eyes. “You were just going to let him go out there with lipstick all over him?”
“It made him look like a lothario, and I understand the earl is quite the prude.”
“I see,” she said sourly. “So you thought, ‘Let’s make Avery even less appealing just to be on the safe side?’”
“Something like that.”
“Even less appealing?” I repeated, pouting. “Was that nice?”
“Dearheart, we both know that as omegas go, you’re far too––”
“Rugged, rough, unkempt,” Linden offered in quick succession. “Stubbled?”
“––capable,” Bridget finished, completely ignoring him, “to have an alpha offer for you.”
She wasn’t wrong, and I’d come to count on that.
“Omegas, as you know, are supposed to be cared for, lavished with attention and tokens of affection, as well as opulence and wealth. We are not something a poor man could ever hope to possess, but with you having a job—and a scary one at that—you don’t need an alpha. You can provide for yourself.”
“Without question,” I affirmed happily.
“You’d make an alpha feel positively impotent, and not one of them has the intestinal fortitude to be able to deal with that. They’re actually quite vulnerable and needy, and you know this because you have not one but three in your immediate family.”
“Again, I’m in total agreement with you.”
“Well, for those of us who want to live in the lap of luxury, it’s showtime, because look”—Linden pointed—“I think he’s arrived. All the others are lining up under the arch to the living room.”
I just needed out of the alcove; the reason wasn’t important. It was getting hot, and I had layers of clothes on.
As we stepped out into the crowd of onlookers, Linden bumped into a woman.
At first I thought she was a server, but upon closer inspection, I realized she was wearing a black suit, not a uniform, and her white shirt and patent heels were expensive, so I knew she was a guest. Her hair was a deep, rich brown, a shade just a touch lighter than her suit.
I loved the messy pixie cut and her enormous brown eyes.
“Be careful,” he snarled at her.
She tipped her head in acknowledgment of him, but before she could walk away, I interrupted her exodus. “Are you all right?”
“Oh yes, perfectly,” she replied smoothly.
“I’m sorry about him. He’s an ass.”
Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized me. “It’s to be expected from a spoiled, rich omega.”
I laughed softly. “I promise you we’re not all douchebags.”
She smiled then, and it was kind, and she offered me her hand. “I’m Kat Holt, and you are?”
“Avery Rhine,” I replied, taking her hand. “It’s a pleasure.”
“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.”
“Will you stop with the help, already,” Linden grumbled, coming up beside me. “Look at the earl over there.”
“Excuse me,” I said to Miss Holt, “I need to murder my friend.”
She chuckled, and it was a good sound. I slid my hand from hers so I could whack Linden in the abdomen,
“Ow,” he groaned, bending over just a bit.
“Dear God, what is that on his face?” Bridget gasped, suddenly breathless. “Is it—is that some kind of scar?”
“Yes, I noticed it when I walked by him earlier,” Miss Holt answered, and we all turned to her. “It begins high on his left cheek, crosses through a portion of his lips, and runs down to his chin.”
“He’s disfigured,” Bridget whispered with a shudder. “That’s why he’s not mated. No beta or gamma would have him, so he’s decided to claim an omega.”
“What does it matter? He’s rich,” Linden announced like this was news. “He can get his face fixed if his omega insists upon it.”
“It depends,” I reminded him. “If the scar was given to him while he was in his wolf form, then it can’t be altered. You know that.”
He shivered. “How can we find out before we go over there?”
“I think you just have to roll the dice,” Bridget whispered, squaring her shoulders. “But when all is said and done, it doesn’t matter. Only the manner in which you’d be kept does.”
“Yes, true,” he admitted, nodding. “Though how are you supposed to look at that for the rest of your life? It’s gruesome.”
“No,” I disagreed, looking the man up and down. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” Bridget croaked out. “Are you looking at him?”
“Yeah, I am. He’s got a great face,” I replied sincerely. I had no idea what Linden and Bridget were seeing. The man was stunning. “And the scar’s sexy as hell.”
“You’re deluded,” Linden declared patronizingly.
“Not this time,” I assured him with a wink.
“You’re just trying to get a rise out of me, because yes, that scar is hideous.”
But to me, the scar was such a small part of what made up the man.
The earl’s hair was chestnut brown with streaks of silver, which he wore in a combed back undercut, but I suspected he was graying prematurely, as he couldn’t have been a day over thirty-five.
He was tall, easily six-four, built like a swimmer with wide shoulders, a broad chest, narrow hips and long legs.
The suit he wore, complete with tails, like the rest of us, fit him like a second skin.
He was a designer’s wet dream, and the man could have walked off the cover of any fashion magazine.
But it wasn’t the body that was truly mesmerizing; it was, in fact, his face.
The scar made him seem dangerous and deadly, and the primal part of me I worked hard to quash each and every day, responded to the strength and raw power that rolled off him even at a distance.
I felt it then, the throb of arousal that came only when I lured an alpha—not a beta, gamma, or human, but an alpha—to my bed.
One part of being an omega was absolutely true: we craved submission, and that, only that, got us off.
Only an alpha could make me submit, so I had to either get drunk enough to let someone else control me or find the real deal and bed an alpha.
With the others, the pretense of succumbing to the power of another was short-lived.
Most times I didn’t get off; I sobered up too quickly, or the guy offered to bottom.
I could top as well as anyone, but there was no way to climax doing that.
With an alpha, I could come, but I lost interest as soon as the passion faded, because no one I’d met could ever sustain the dominance I needed.
It was an act they put on, and that simply wouldn’t do.
I had to surrender, had to be made to do so, and staring across the room at Graeme Davenport, I saw a man who could take what he wanted.
I nearly gasped with the yearning that rushed through me.
My wolf would accept a bite from his, and to the man, I would submit. As both reactions were terrifying, I remained rooted to the spot and tried to breathe through my desire.
“Really, though, the scar’s not important, and maybe he’d be open to sharing his omega with others,” Linden said, breaking the trance I found myself in as I stared.
“I don’t have to fuck him every night, and I certainly don’t have to look at him when I do.
That’s what a light switch is for, after all. ”
But what a pity it would be to have him in the darkness. Even from across the room I could see that the man’s eyes were a lovely, warm, peaty brown. Having those on me, watching me, heating as he stared…I couldn’t think of anything I would want more.
His chiseled features were perfect, even his nose, long and aquiline, his high, sharp cheekbones, and his full, lush mouth that I wanted all over––
“Bridget, you whore,” Linden hissed under his breath as she slipped around him to get into line behind the other omegas who were there to meet first the cyne , and then, if that failed, all the other alphas in the room.
“You better go,” I told Linden, bumping him with my elbow.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“I’m too capable, remember?”
“I didn’t mean that you shouldn’t––”
“I’m not the omega an earl is looking for,” I reminded him. “You know that.”
He grunted and then left me, getting in line several people behind Bridget.
“Watch this,” I said to Miss Holt, leaning close to her, my interest in the man ebbing with every second that I didn’t go to him.
Always, this was how things worked for me.
If I could hold off acting on my impulses, slowly, steadily, my logic kicked in.
Because clearly, I was out of my league.
He was there to find an omega to wait on him hand and foot, to breed with, and to make his house a home.
Nothing wrong with that; I just didn’t have time. “Keep an eye on Linden.”
“Why? What are we—oh.” She chuckled. “How is he managing that?”
One by one, the omegas in front of Linden saw him and surrendered their place in line, letting him creep up to Bridget.
“His family is one of the richest in these here parts,” I teased her, giving my voice a ridiculous twang, and she grinned back. “And because all those guys and girls know he’s a vindictive asshole, they’re gonna let him cut in line until he gets to Bridge.”
“But she won’t let him go in front of her, will she?”
“No way,” I replied as she slipped her arm into mine. “They’ve been rivals way too long for her to let him get away with that shit.”
“And you’re friends with both of them?”
“Friends is a strong word,” I apprised her playfully as she leaned into me. “We grew up together, and I think because I can’t, and don’t, compete with either one of them, they don’t see me as a threat. They both treat me better than they do most people.”
“What do you mean you can’t compete with them?”
I snickered and turned to her. “You can’t tell me that even though he was a prick to you, you could deny, empirically, that Linden Van Doren is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life. That hair is natural, you know.”
She nodded slowly. “I’ve traveled all over the world with my boss, Avery Rhine, and I’ve met more than my fair share of drop-dead gorgeous men”—one eyebrow lifted mischievously—“but you know the one man I’ve never come across before tonight?”
“No, who?”
“One who thinks my boss’s scar is, and I quote, ‘Sexy as hell.’”