Chapter 3 Iris
Chapter three
Iris
I’ve been on film sets for most of my adult life, but walking on to a soundstage will never get old. The people, the lights, the sounds, I love it. I usually even like the odd mixture of scents because they tell stories of those who filmed there before me.
Right now, though, I don’t smell anything except “hospital” due to the sterile neutralizer I sprayed up my nostrils.
It’s disgusting, truly, and if I hadn’t shoved my Omega far down and drank an entire pot of pre-heat tea before I got called on set, I know she’d be whining and pushing me to go to the bathroom to blow my nose and wash off all the different de-scenting agents I layered over my scent glands and under my armpits.
I hope Jett doesn’t cringe when he meets me, not that I would blame him.
I’d cringe if I smelled me, but this is the only option I have right now, so I’ll have to pretend like it’s normal.
“Do you want to do a secret signal if you need more neutralizer or I have to make an excuse to get you off set?” Sadie asks quietly from beside me as we follow a PA through another door of the soundstage to where Juliette’s bookshop set is.
I shake my head. “I think I’ll be fine. It says it lasts a few hours so I should be good till lunch.
” I want to say if she needs to find a way to get me off set we’re going to have way bigger problems. But like I said earlier, I have no pre-heat symptoms and despite the horrible smell in my nose and the nerves of a new job, I’m feeling better.
My Omega is quiet, my strawberry scent is locked down, and I won’t be able to smell even a hint of any Alpha or Beta scents.
I can’t even smell Sadie’s and she’s right next to me not wearing any sort of de-scenter.
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
I squeeze her hand. “Thanks for being here with me.”
“Of course, not only is it my job but I’ll admit I’m excited too. This is so much different than your usual jobs. Already there’s a bunch more people and the energy is buzzing.”
She’s right. The soundstage is bigger, the equipment is nicer, and with that they have more people working for the film. Knot Hollows was a popular and long-running TV show but it didn’t have the biggest budget and our A-list guest stars were few and far between.
“You’re a Jett fan too, right?” I ask.
Sadie blushes. “Like most people.”
“That’s true.” I laugh. “Sorry I didn’t ask sooner.”
“You’ve been busy with everything, and it’s not like it really matters anyway.”
Busy is a nice word for frazzled. I’ve been so in my head about the suppressants and learning lines I didn’t even think about the fact she gets to be on set with me and meet famous actors like Jett and the others hired for the supporting cast.
“Let’s hope he’s as nice as people have said,” I say.
Normally I’d know more about my leading man beyond what I’ve learned from the media and through the grapevine of other actors I know.
We would have had a chemistry test and done a table read, but nothing about this job has been normal so far.
Ever since I was offered the role it’s been a whirlwind of contracts, doctor’s appointments for my failed suppressants, line learning, and wardrobe fittings.
We approach the outer facade of a fake wall that I’m assuming is the bookstore.
The PA in front of us slows and steps to the side so we stop with her.
“Pack Quinn is right through this door, Ms. Walker,” she says.
“I’ll come and collect you when they call lunch to show you where the main meals will be served.
Craft Services is on the other side of the soundstage if you or your assistant need anything. ”
“Thank you, um—”
“Maria.”
“Thanks, Maria.”
“Of course.”
I gesture to Sadie. “Do you have a place where Sadie can stay while we shoot?”
“We do.” She smiles warmly at my assistant.
“You could go to Video Village just over there to watch the live feed of the cameras.” Maria points to where there’s a couple people, cameras, and an empty director’s chair that reads Wilder Quinn, along with another one that reads August Quinn printed on the fabric.
“Or I can take you back to Iris’s trailer,” she finishes.
Sadie looks at me and I nod, knowing she’s staying like we discussed.
“Video Village, please,” Sadie says.
“Of course, you can head that way and take a seat, I’ll let the crew know who you are. Iris, you can go on in.”
Sadie hugs me and I promise to let her meet Jett and the rest of Pack Quinn later, though she'll be sitting right next to two of them in Video Village. Hopefully she won’t combust like I probably would if I was in her shoes.
I’m already going to be trying not to combust and I have to work with them and act normally, harder given I no longer have suppressants to take.
Nope. No. Not going there.
"Sounds good. Now go break a leg,” Sadie whispers.
I squeeze her a final time before I pull back. After she and the PA have departed I put my hand on the fake door that will lead onto the set. I could probably walk around to the open front but this is where the PA brought me so I guess this is where I’ll enter.
I take a large inhale through my nose and immediately decide that was a bad idea because the neutralizer stings my eyes.
I fist my hands and blink a few times so they don’t water.
I don’t want to look like I’m crying or ruin my makeup.
I gently inhale through my mouth when I’m sure my eyes are clear and mutter, “You can do this, Iris.”
“I have no doubt about that.”
I jump with a gasp at the male voice behind me and whir around, a hand clutching my chest. My gaze collides with amused brown eyes—though brown doesn’t quite cover it. They’re the shade of worn leather, soft and supple, with the depth of dark earth or rich burnt mahogany.
The tall, muscular man, who screams Alpha even without scenting him, grins at me.
His stance is casual with his hands in the pockets of his jeans like he didn’t just scare the absolute crap out of me.
I observe him further, his black hair that tapers to the base of his neck, his light amber skin tone and playful aura.
When my brain computes this is Mateo Quinn, I inhale through my nose without thinking.
I scrunch it again from the sterile smell that makes my nose tingle and my eyes sting once more.
“Easy conejita, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I’m not fluent in Spanish, but I understand enough—thanks to living in L.A. since I was eighteen and killing time on set with one of those language apps—to know he just called me little rabbit. Makes sense given my sky-high jump and current look on my face.
Gods, I’m already making a great first impression. Freaking neutralizing spray. I’m going to have to get better about breathing slowly and through my mouth when I can help it. Though that won’t be possible while filming. All I can hope is I get used to the smell and slight burn soon.
“It’s okay,” I assure him. “I thought you were already on set and didn’t know someone was behind me.”
Mateo holds up a coffee in a paper cup. “Getting a bit of go-go juice before we get started.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing and he smiles, showing off a bit of his straight white teeth.
My stomach flips and despite the horrid smell in my nose I’m glad I can’t scent him.
He’s even bigger and sexier than his pictures make him out to be and I don’t need any reason for my Omega to get riled up when I just calmed her down.
He closes his lips, mouth still tilted in a sly grin that makes my breath hitch in my chest. I should say something, anything, but no words come.
It’s annoying since I’m usually good with people and light conversation.
I’ve had to be as an actor, not to mention all my media training I’ve had helps too.
But for some reason, looking into his mahogany eyes, I’m entranced.
My stomach flips faster when his gaze flicks down my body, and he runs his tongue over his teeth like he likes what he sees.
Ditto, Alpha.
Alpha…
The pressure of a whine builds in my throat and I’m so shocked by the sudden appearance of my Omega I nearly choke. I quickly put my hand over my mouth and cover it up with a cough while I internally try not to panic at that little mishap.
“Are you okay?” Mateo asks worriedly.
My cheeks flush with embarrassment as I cough a few more times. There should be absolutely no reason to have that kind of reaction to him.
I cough again and meet his concerned gaze. I force a smile on my face and shake my head. “Sorry. Tickle in my throat.”
He raises a brow and offers his cup of coffee to me in a sweet gesture.
“It’s alright.” I swallow. “I don’t drink caffeine.”
“Ah, right. Sorry, my mate is always asking for coffee. I forget that Omega’s don’t drink it unless it’s decaf.”
My brain short circuits hearing him say mate and Omega in the same sentence and for a moment a spark of jealousy slips through from my inner demon—yes, demon. She deserves to be called that with the way she’s acting today.
I quietly remind her that I knew this information.
It’s widely known around town that Mateo and August are together.
The Alpha’s claiming mark is on the Beta’s neck for everyone to see, and I’ve read the interviews about how they met and soon after found Jett and Wilder to form their pack.
It’s not unusual for packs to take on a Beta and for them to be bonded into the pack, but it’s rarer for an Alpha to be mated to a Beta.
It likely means their scent sympathetic and feel connected in a similar way an Alpha would to an Omega—like their souls are better together than apart.
However, all of that doesn’t mean the pack isn’t looking for an Omega.
As far as I know August isn’t mated to Jett and Wilder, only pack bonded, and they’re open to the idea of having an Omega if the right one comes along.
Or at least, that’s what all the entertainment sources have said when they talk about the Quinn pack, specifically Jett.
Not that it matters. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this.
But he’s—
“I’m Iris by the way,” I cut off my Omega. If she refuses to stay down then I’m going to have to learn to ignore her just like the sterile smell in my nose. Hopefully this will distract him too from that awkward coughing situation and whatever the hell is going on in my body.
Mateo’s brow unfurrows and amusement returns into his eyes.
He holds out his hand and like an idiot I take it.
His warm fingers wrap around my hand, dwarfing it.
That’s a feat in itself; since I’m tall I don’t have dainty hands like a lot of Omegas, or even Betas.
Yet his…his hand takes over mine like a flame engulfing tinder, setting me ablaze.
“I know who you are, conejita.”
My nose scrunches automatically at the nickname and he squeezes my hand as he shakes it. When I don’t answer he continues, “I’m Mateo, but you already knew that, too.”
I nod, dumbly, heat licking up my arm and threatening to boil me alive.
I pull my hand back abruptly when my throat tightens on another freaking whine, and put it behind my back with the other one, holding them together so I don’t do something dumb like reach out and pull his delicious body against me.
“Yes,” I fumble out. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
We stand in front of the fake set door, our bodies probably too close for people who just met.
We may no longer be touching, but I still feel as if I’m on fire, heat and flame crackling between us.
It’s unlike anything I've ever felt before, and the fact it’s happening without us even being able to scent each other is very concerning.
“Iris—”
“I—” Our words are cut off when a tepid woosh of air hits my back. I jump in surprise for the second time in minutes and turn to meet the intense hazel gaze and towering figure of Wilder Quinn.
“Ah, Iris. Here you are,” he says gruffly. “We’ve been waiting for you.”