Chapter 3
Chapter Three
ARES
T his shit stopped being fun about three hours ago.
I can’t pinpoint the moment that Logan got a hate boner for Omegas, but it’s been getting worse for months. He isn’t exactly Prince Charming with betas, either, but he’ll at least acknowledge they’re good for something.
Watching him verbally abuse and degrade an endless parade of Omega hopefuls isn’t the turn-on I hoped it would be when he sprung this assignment on us. The king says choose an Omega, and that’s what he has to do. At this point, the rest of us are just along for the ride.
Despite his attitude around finding a mate, I figured Logan would eventually settle down. I didn’t think we’d have to interview a dozen of them one-by-one like something out of a fractured fairy tale.
If we were trying to find a fit for Cinderella’s glass panties, then I might be onboard.
“How many girls do you need to meet before you pick one?” I grouse. My back is aching from holding up the wall for half the day.
Logan glances down at the tablet beside him, expression bored. “There are at least five more on the list.”
“You can’t be fucking serious. Can you just choose one already so we can find something better to do with our day?”
The last one had just burst into tears and ran for it, her blue dress catching in the door as it closed because she was in such a hurry to get out of the room. She was pretty enough, if a little too easy to fluster for my liking. Any of them would have served the purpose. An Omega is an Omega. Mate them. Mark them. Breed them. You still end up in the same place at the end.
Setting the tablet aside, Logan stretches before settling indolently back in the chair. “I’m going to be stuck with one of them for the rest of my life. You can’t rush this sort of thing.”
I roll my eyes. “This isn’t rocket science. You pick one, bond her, and stick her in the harem when you get sick of her.”
Logan’s expression darkens. “Mate, not bond. My father didn’t say anything about bonding an Omega. He just wants to see them pregnant with his son’s heirs. I assume he is thinking in terms of dynasty.”
I want to point out that bonding is what makes the mating so easy, but decide against it at the look on his face. Mating is a legal concept, similar to marriage for betas. The bond, that permanent spiritual link formed between an Alpha and Omega when the former marks the latter with a bite during their heat cycle .
Mates might be temporary, bonds are permanent.
The subject of Omegas has always been a sensitive one with Logan, for reasons he has never chosen to share. Assuming, of course, that the spoiled bastard even has a reason.
I just shake my head, holding my hands up in a placating gesture. “Same difference to me, but whatever you say, man.”
Cillian shifts in his ready guard stance. The leather creaking from his weapon holsters is the only evidence that he is getting as sick of this as the rest of us. He has been standing in the corner since the first Omega ran crying from the room, but you wouldn’t know from his stoic facade.
As a beta, Cillian is supposed to be the stabilizing influence of our group dynamic. He and Logan have been together practically since they were both in diapers, but that doesn’t make it any easier to get through to him when the prince acts like a jackass.
“There was nothing wrong with that last one,” Cillian offers, voice even.
“If I had to put up with another minute of that sniveling attitude, I was going to give her an actual reason to cry like that. Plus, that voice was just grating.”
“You told her you were going to put her over a table and let us all take turns, so she’d have four different types of cum dripping down her thighs when she went in for her next interview,” Cillian points out, voice even. “That might have something to do with the tears.”
Logan shrugs. “If she can’t stand the heat, then avoid the fire. I can’t bother with an Omega who will freak out every time someone else is in the room when we fuck. ”
Omegas are supposed to be the ultimate submissive while Alphas are purely dominant. Only an idiot actually believes that’s how it works in real life. Sure, we all get urges, but that’s just human nature. People also get urges to pull fire alarms or drive their cars onto the sidewalk when it’s full of pedestrians. Most of the time, we don’t give into them.
Alpha packs sharing an Omega happens often enough, especially with how rare the dynamic has gotten. I’ve met more than one Omega who gets off on the idea of being the center of that much male attention. Several Alphas, muscled bodies working in concert to master the playground of her body. What woman wouldn’t want that if she could get it?
“Doesn’t help that you made a reward sound like a punishment,” I point out, unable to hide my mild annoyance. We could be balls deep in a panting Omega right now if Logan would get over himself and stop scaring them away. “Give me five minutes with one, and I’ll have her slicker than a pool slide. Then we’ll see if you still think the harem betas you toss around are better.”
Poe makes a noise of disgust in his throat, but doesn’t say anything. The phrase man of few words is usually an understatement where he is concerned. I swear, I thought the guy was a mute for at least the first year of knowing him. But no one is more useful in a fight, especially if it needs to get dirty.
Being absolutely unhinged is always beneficial in sticky situations.
He has his own issues with women, though. He’ll take Logan’s leftovers just like the rest of us, but we’ve learned our lesson about letting him be alone with any of them. It’s a good thing that betas in the harem are easy to replace.
“Fuck off, Poe. We’ll give the Omega to you if we want her back in pieces.”
Poe gives me a smile that is all teeth before flipping me the bird with both hands. He drops his head back against the wall to stare up at the ceiling, clearly bored with this conversation and content with the visions of bloody and crying Omegas probably dancing in his head.
Expression rueful, Cillian pushes himself off the wall and bows low in Logan’s general direction. The gesture is sardonic, but his expression remains placid. “I’ll fetch the next one.”
“As much fun as this is, you know you’re going to have to choose one of them eventually, yes?” I question, leaning against the back of the heavy gilded chair where Prince Logan is currently reclining. The wood creaks from the added weight of 250+ pounds of muscled bulk. “Or I could take the choice off your hands if you like. What do you say?”
“Is anything going to come out of your mouth that isn’t another annoying question?” Logan asks.
Am I the only sane one left? The guy is choosing an Omega to fuck and breed, not planning a foreign invasion. This is not that serious.
“It’s already almost dinner time and I haven’t worked out yet,” I remind him. “I miss leg day and it throws off my entire week. Just pick an Omega already.”
Okay, that sounded whiny, but come the fuck on. This is boring and forever taking. I’m officially over it.
Logan groans, rubbing his temples with both hands. “Whoever I choose is going to be around all the damn time. Dinners, events, my father has made it clear this is going to be some sort of public spectacle. I can’t just stick her in the harem and be done with her when I’m not in the mood for whimpering Omega bullshit. I need more than a pretty face and a ready cunt.”
There go my eyes again.
“Good luck with that, brother. All Omegas are the same.” I poke at the veined muscle of my right bicep, mentally calculating how my macros will need to change for the day if I can’t make any time for the gym. “I already feel myself deflating.”
“Tell you what,” Logan sighs. “I’ll let you do arm curls with the next one if you shut the fuck up right now.”
The more frustrated I make him, the closer we get to being done with this.“Deal.”
Cillian clears his throat as he opens the door. The look on his face is strained, an expression unlike any I’ve ever seen on him before. “I have the next one here for you, Prince Logan.”
The smell of her hits me before the door opens wide enough to actually lay eyes on her. Her scent isn’t floral like the others. The notes are still sweet. All Omegas burst like sugar on your tongue when they slick, but the undercurrent is muskier, like bergamot or amber.
Distinctive.
Familiar.
Definitely something I’ve smelled before.
It’s champagne, I realize.
Cherries and champagne .
For the first time all day, my missing workout is officially the last thing on my mind.