The Claiming Booth
Alex
Honestly, I thought there’d be more fanfare. Trumpets. Fireworks. A banner that says Congratulations on Your New Omega! Maybe some cake. Preferably chocolate. With sprinkles.
I fucking love sprinkles.
Instead, we’re standing in a dreary line, on the outskirts of the field, watching Knox scribble his signature for the hundredth time. He’s hunched over a sad little table like he’s applying for a library card instead of finalizing the biggest decision of our lives.
Tadeo is pacing again, no doubt burning a hole in the ground with all that anxiety. Dakota’s chewing his thumb like it owes him money. And me? I’m trying not to bounce on my heels like an over-caffeinated golden retriever.
We actually got a fucking omega!!
“What do you think she smells like?” I ask, nudging Tadeo as he passes me for the third time. “I’m assuming flowers. All omegas smell like flowers. Right?”
The young alpha grunts, too tense to answer.
I get his worry to an extent. I mean, our new omega did look a little stressed on that stage—it had to be terrifying for her, standing up there with all those eyes locked on her.
But this is still an exciting moment. We’re about to meet our newest packmate!
The mother of our children. Our reason for living.
The bond that will hold us together for the rest of our lives.
How is this my life right now?!
And once we get her all alone, I know she’ll instantly fall for us.
I know I already have.
That soft blonde hair, those pink lips and dark eyes—I was gone the second she stepped into that spotlight.
“Pack name goes here?” Knox asks, tapping the bottom of the next piece of paper.
The beta barely looks up from his spot on the other side of the table. His hair is slicked back and his eyes are dull. He looks bored out of his mind. “Yes. Mr. Romner.”
Knox straightens with a quiet grunt, stretching his back like it’s been hours since he moved. He hands over the form to the bored-looking beta. He has ink-stained fingers and zero sense of urgency.
Dakota lets out an exaggerated sigh beside me, then scrubs his face with the palms of his hands. He looks like he might die if he has to wait even one more second.
I know how he feels.
“Why is there so much paperwork?” Dakota says to me in a hushed tone. “We already paid. Shouldn’t that be the end of it?”
The bored beta immediately speaks up, voice flat, like he’s giving a well-rehearsed speech, “Your omega is registered through an official academy. In order for her to look like she’s legally acquired, then all her records have to be completely redone with your pack’s name.
You’re not buying a stray. You’re assuming legal and permanent ownership. ”
Dakota blinks, stunned. “Oh.” He glances over at me, eyes wide. “I didn’t realize it’d be this... official.”
“It isn’t usually,” the beta says, clearly used to dealing with restless packs. “We rarely get omegas that are fully documented. But it means she’s recognized by every registry in the quadrant. You’ll be able to take her out in public and show her off. Not every pack gets that.”
I shoot a look at Knox, but he’s still completely focused on the last form—brow furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. I grin anyway—someone has to.
I can’t believe this is actually happening!
After several more swipes of his pen, Knox finally flips the folder closed with one hand. “Done,” he says as he places the pen on top. Glancing over, he meets my eyes, then Tadeo’s, a small smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.
“They’re processing the claim now,” the beta says. “She should be ready shortly.” He looks at a sizable red velvet tent not far away.
Dakota straightens like he’s been shocked. “Right now? Like, we’re gonna meet her right now?”
Knox snorts softly at his question as the bored beta behind the table nods.
I can’t help but laugh. “Better fix that face, little man. Don’t wanna scare her off.” I ruffle his short hair.
Dakota shoves my shoulder, a crooked smile filling his face despite the nerves flashing behind his eyes. Tadeo stays quiet, jaw tight, staring at the ground like he wants to crack it open and see what’s underneath.
That damn alpha worries way too much.
“These are for you.” The bored beta slides several documents across the desk toward Knox.
“These include your omega’s updated identification card, academy completion certificate, and official claiming documentation.
Should you encounter any legal or regulatory authorities, these will confirm that she has been claimed through entirely lawful and recognized procedures. ”
He gathers the remaining paperwork and holds it carefully against his chest. “Your omega has been given a short-term heat suppressant that will wear off in a few weeks. I also need to remind you, this omega was recently rejected by her former pack. In order to establish a stable bond and prevent damaging levels of distress, it is strongly advised that you initiate physical bonding without delay.” His voice lowers slightly, emphasizing the importance of the matter.
“Early claiming is critical for her sense of safety and for the formation of a stable bond with your pack. If this is delayed, there is a significant risk that she may retain residual ties to her previous pack.”
My eyes widen at that as Knox goes stiff and Tadeo’s head snaps up.
We have to initiate physical bonding without delay?
Fuck, yes!
A rush of excitement pulses deep in my core, and my cock goes hard.
All at once, every primal instinct within me howls with urgency, and I have to fight the urge to rush that fucking tent, pin that precious omega down, and feed her every inch of me until she’s breathless, sweaty, and limp with pleasure.
But that’s not what we agreed to.
I glance at Knox.
He looks a little torn. Like he’s fighting the same internal battle, too. “Understood,” he finally says.
“Do you have any questions for me?” the bored beta asks, and Knox quickly shakes his head. “Okay. If you could wait right over there,” he gestures to a general area next to the tent, “I’ll go get your omega.”
My heart begins racing like I’ve run fifty miles as we step back from the table, making room for the next pack in line. I walk next to Knox as we all make our way to the edge of the clearing, our eyes never leaving the tent’s entrance. I assume that’s where our omega is waiting.
Is she as excited as we are?
Restless, I shift my weight from foot to foot, trying to temper the swirling energy building inside me. The woods around us are quiet. Even the birds have gone still, like they know something amazing is about to happen.
I glance back at the tent—still nothing—then at Knox.
The pack alpha is standing still, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at the front of the tent. His jaw’s tight, and I can see his pulse ticking in his neck. He feels it too—that excitement winding around all of us like a live-wire.
I wonder if he’s imagining how sweet she’ll taste, too. Lucky, fucking bastard.
Patience, I remind myself. Once Knox establishes his role as the pack alpha, then Tadeo and I will be able to bond with her, too.
Movement catches my eye, and I stand up straighter, every muscle going alert.
The flap of the tent shifts—and then she steps out.
Skyla.
She emerges slowly—quiet, hesitant. That thin pink nightie clings to her curves like it was made for her, catching the moonlight in all the right places.
Her blonde curls hide her face in wild, golden waves, begging to be touched.
My eyes trace the shape of her—small tits, trim waist, delicious hips, and thick thighs that make my mouth water.
I want to drop to my knees and worship every inch of her. To show her, with my hands and my mouth and every careful touch, that she’s safe now. Desired. Claimed.
“This way, dear.” An older beta with tired eyes and brassy, poorly-dyed hair leads Skyla forward.
The older woman looks like the kind of woman who’s probably seen too much and says too little.
She’s got a clipboard tucked under one arm, but her other hand is on Skyla’s elbow, guiding her gently toward us.
Then everything changes when the wind swirls and Skyla’s scent finally hits me—peony and white musk. It’s so intense, it’s like being punched in the chest with something unbearably tender. The aroma curls around me like smoke, seeping into my skin, filling my lungs, and flowing in my blood.
My body hums, tingling from the inside out. I’ve never smelled anything so soft, so heartbreakingly romantic. It’s like the memory of something I never had but always longed for.
Peeking up through her hair, Skyla looks up, and I finally see her face up close.
She’s not pretty—she’s devastatingly beautiful.
Her curly golden hair catches the light like spun silk, wild and perfect at the same time.
Her nose is slightly curved, and her chin is pointed.
Her eyes are the color of melted chocolate, big and wary, but she doesn’t lift them. She keeps them fixed on her feet.
Everything about her is delicate—breakable—but not in a way that makes her seem weak. No, it makes her sacred.
“Romner pack?” the older beta asks as she brings Skyla to a stop in front of me.
I barely hear the woman. I’m too lost in Skyla.
My pulse is a slow, heavy drum in my ears. I stare at her like she’s art—something meant to be admired, not touched. But god, I want to touch her.
Knox and the older beta exchange a few words, checking over Skyla’s ID. Then the woman turns to Skyla and reaches up, unclasping the thick leather collar from around her neck.
The sound of it unbuckling is so loud in my ears.
The tight material slides, metal jingles, and Skyla flinches as it falls away. She tenses like a startled doe, almost like she’s not sure whether to breathe or bolt.
“Be a good girl for your new pack,” the older beta murmurs to Skyla, like a mother handing off a child. Then she turns and walks off, leaving our omega all alone.
With us.
Me, Knox, Tadeo, and Dakota.
None of us move.
Knox takes a deep breath, clearing his throat softly. “Skyla,” he says gently. “I’m Knox, your pack alpha. This is Alex,” he nods toward me, “Tadeo, and Dakota.”
She doesn’t say a word or lift her head. She sways slightly where she stands like a leaf about to fall. Then the wind shifts, and she shivers.
And it’s not a little shiver. Her whole body trembles.
That’s when I really notice how cold it is—and how little she’s wearing.
My jaw tightens as irritation kills some of my excitement.
They made her come out like that? In this?
Before I can pull off my own shirt, Knox is already unbuttoning his flannel. He doesn’t say anything as he steps forward and slowly drapes the warm fabric over Skyla’s shoulders. She lets it happen, but she’s still trembling.
I want to say something—anything to soothe her—but I’ve got no fucking clue what to say.
Because now I’m really looking at her.
Her makeup’s uneven, clumsily done, like it was thrown on in a rush. And it’s not hiding much. There’s an old bruise near her left eye—faded, but still visible. Her knees are red and raw, like she’s spent too much time kneeling on hard ground. And then there’s the bandage on her neck.
That must be her old mating bite.
I don’t understand why they’d cover it. But then I see the little pinpricks of blood beneath the edge of the gauze.
Why the fuck is she bleeding?
Rage burns through me so fast, I nearly choke on it.
What the hell did they do to her?
My fists clench, and I have to force myself not to rip off in the direction of whoever let her walk out here practically naked, scared, and fucking bleeding.
Sensing my rage, Knox glances at me—he must feel it too. I can see it in the tension across his shoulders. But his voice stays calm. Steady. For her. “I’m sure you’re tired,” he says, leaning down to try to catch Skyla’s eyes. “Would you like to go home?”
Her chin dips slightly lower, like the weight of his question is too much. Knox hesitates, then looks at me, eyes asking if we’re doing the right thing.
I wish I had the answer.
Dakota leans toward Tadeo, whispering, “Is she okay?”
But Tadeo doesn’t answer.
Knox crouches a little, lowers his voice. “Can I carry you?”
She doesn’t say a word.
She shivers again, and I realize how pale her lips are, and her feet are bare. They’re dirty, scratched, and completely exposed in the chilly weather.
“Come on.” Knox bends and picks her up bridal style, carefully lifting her like she’s made of china and might shatter at any second.
Skyla doesn’t resist as he settles her against him. In fact, she doesn’t do anything. She’s limp in his arms, eyes open but distant. Staring past us. Through us.
And we walk.
No one talks. No one jokes. Not even Dakota. The trail back to camp stretches out like it’s suddenly longer than it was an hour ago. Everything’s too heavy now.
I keep my eyes on Skyla’s face, trying to catch something. A blink. A twitch. A breath that means she’s in there.
But she looks…gone.
And I don’t know what the fuck to do.