Chapter 3
Dorian
The red carpet stretched before me as the cameras flashed and zoomed in. They’d gone all out for this night with the extravagant floral displays and mood lighting, staging tables around the ballroom where the Luna contestants would show off their hosting and entertainment skills.
The whole thing was fucking cliché.
It happened every season. This archaic little charade. You’d think—especially after the drama of last season—that they’d want to change things up.
Not that I cared much about the show anyway. I’d only scanned the highlight reels to see what I’d be working with. But I’d rather pull out my teeth than keep smiling for this scripted snore-fest.
At least I was getting paid.
And we are here to find a mate.
I know. I grumbled at my own wolf.
He’d been more talkative lately, knowing we had a duty to fulfill as Alpha, and goddess, it was annoying.
I scanned the ballroom, looking over the empty tables as the camera crew posed me every which way at the end of the carpet. Soon, the ballroom would be filled with endless chatter and posturing females like male peacocks showing off their charm.
Not that any of them had been charming enough yet, but time was running out and I needed to pick someone.
After a few drinks, I hoped tonight would soften the pickiness of my beast.
I’m not picky, he lied.
You’re what’s holding us back, I reminded him.
My plan was to find the perfect political arrangement to fix things and be done with this whole game. Collect my paycheck and my future mate, then leave. We could go about our business, living our own lives our own way. There had to be at least one female here who felt the same as I did.
But my wolf refused to settle on something so simple. Give it a chance. We might be surprised.
I didn’t always let my animal have control, but I trusted his instincts.
Let’s just hope you don’t run out of time.
“Dorian, look this way.”
I smiled as the camera flashed, showing off my best angle. You didn’t grow up like I did without being hyper aware of how your body took up space and the best way to use it.
And, of course, I was first in line for the photo shoot.
The other Alphas behind me had my wolf fired up. I didn’t like giving them my back. Not that I’d made friends here anyway. I’d known I wouldn’t. Coming to the show with my background didn’t exactly put me on equal footing with the rest of these Alphas.
It was made worse by the social media polls and rankings that swayed in my favor.
Everyone loves a star.
Though it’d been a few months since I was in the spotlight.
Ever since I’d claimed my territory, it’d gotten harder to accept roles for acting gigs or to use my gymnastic talents to pop into guest spots on the circuits.
Running a pack felt like putting out one fire after another.
I hardly ever got a break from my new Alpha duties.
Growing older sucked.
“Alright, that’s enough,” I told the cameras as I straightened my suit jacket, heading to the bar.
Let them put some other Alpha on display and take the attention off my back.
I needed a drink.
“What’ll it be, Alpha Bailey?” The bartender stood at attention.
“Just call me Dorian.” I motioned to the bottle of cheap rum behind him. “Make it hurt.”
He nodded as he poured me a double. I cocked my thumb for a little more. My new favorite human in this joint hooked me up.
“Well, if it isn’t Dorian Bailey.” The old wolf shifter, Jay Renfro, clapped me on the back. “How are they treating you this season?”
I swallowed some rum before turning to glare at him. “This is your gig. Don’t you have the script?”
“You know how it is.” He sighed as he leaned against the bar, smiling for the nonexistent crowd as he lowered his voice, “They don’t tell me shit.”
“Figures.” I snorted, wondering if all producers liked to keep everyone out of the loop.
Ken Damar was the human producer this season who replaced some woman named Molly from last year. I’d scented a little magic on Ken, but he was still solidly human-skinned.
We’d formed a working relationship, but that only went so far. I wasn’t sure how much control he had versus Mike, the director, and the corporate hounds watching the show’s every move this season.
“Speaking of sharing secrets,” Jay continued. “Which of these lovely ladies has caught your eye?”
“Is this off camera?” I looked him over, seeing the microphone clipped to his chest.
He covered it with his palm and nodded.
“Still looking,” I said with a smile. “Anything else you want to know?”
Jay rolled his eyes, but he kept up that actor’s disarming grin. “I was wondering if your aunt said anything.”
“About you?” I chuckled. “Nope. You’ve burned that bridge.”
“Is she performing anymore?” he asked, like he’d grace us with his presence and come see her on stage.
I hadn’t seen Jay Renfro come around the circus since long before we stopped traveling.
He’d gotten too big for us, and Aunt Sunny had rightfully written him off.
Now he was lonely and washed up and a little pathetic.
But he’d helped me score a spot on the show, negotiating enough pay to help me out with some things back home, so I owed him one.
“Sometimes they do a local gig just for fun, but the main operation is shut down,” I said.
I wasn’t sure if it’d ever be like it once was. Part of me thought that was okay. They were getting older now. It was time for them to settle down.
Our troupe had been unique, made up of mostly shifters, and had traveled the continent throughout the years, earning a loyal following.
Bailey Pack was a pack of talented nomads.
Not just circus acts, but artists and thespians who shone brightest on stage.
But the road was harsh and took its toll. We needed a territory. An Alpha.
Hence the reason for my birth.
“Benson’s gone for good?” Jay asked, as if he needed the confirmation that it was safe to come sniffing around again.
Benson was the other reason I’d been born.
That old bastard was a Beta wolf who’d weaseled his way into management of the pack. Benson was a rogue with Alpha strength. Bailey Pack made for easy pickings.
He knew that.
And so, as it always does in these situations, nature corrected the power imbalance.
“Benson is dead,” I said. No remorse. “But that still doesn’t mean Sunny wants to see you again.”
“That’s not…” Jay’s voice trailed off as he listened to his headpiece. “That’s my cue.”
I saluted him with my glass of rum as he sauntered off and then my gaze swept lazily over the ballroom.
The Lunas were lining up at their tables.
Julia from Maryland caught my eye. She was a dainty thing with curves just where I liked them and pouty lips that pulled into a seductive grin when she saw me.
No. My wolf growled.
I gave her a little wave anyway, just to see her blush. Maryland had been fun to tour when I was a kid. Though I didn’t get all the fuss about blue crabs. There wasn’t much meat to them and it took all night to pick an appetizer’s worth.
I downed the rest of my rum, deciding to make the rounds now that they were done filming the red carpet. Camera teams buzzed around each table like vultures, waiting to get a scrap of material to air from this no-talent bunch.
Hollywood fed on the drama—the scandal—not actual showmanship.
And if they wanted drama…
I was acutely aware when he entered the ballroom. Atlas Volk—certified asshole extraordinaire.
I’d have said it was ironic we were both mateless Alphas this season, but at this point, I just knew fate had a sick sense of humor.
Atlas walked into the room carrying his own dark shadow like a blight on the whole event. His broad shoulders and bulky frame made him fill too much space. Clumsy. Meathead. Stereotypical Alpha.
My wolf’s fur rose as he started to snarl.
We fucking hated that guy.
He looked like an idiot too, ready to burst out of his poorly tailored suit. But I knew better.
Atlas was smart enough to have Bailey Pack by the scruff of its neck—my neck—and held us over the legal fire. At least until I found a mate and solidified my claim for pack territory.
Speaking of which…
I dragged my attention away and refocused on the girls. Pick one.
No. My wolf growled again.
Oh, how I wanted to string him up.
Purposefully, I walked by the first table and blew Sherie from Alabama a kiss.
The ebony-skinned beauty in a lacy cream dress caught the kiss mid-air with a twist of her hand. “Are you going to come play with me?”
“Not tonight.” I winked, backing away as the scent of her clouded my nose. Floral and potent and—
Wrong. My wolf started snarling. Not our mate.
We’ve already been through this. None of them are, I snapped at my own annoying beast. Just settle for one.
I passed by the next table and thought twice before stopping. Cindy from Frazier Pack was a repeat this season, having been here on Season 7. Her red hair was done up in a mass of beehive curls and the southern Georgia charm was cranked up to ten as she beamed a smile my way.
Word on the street was that she was a man-eater.
With any luck, she’d catch Atlas in those jaws and I could live the rest of my life in peace.
Though I wasn’t sure how that would work, anyway. I had to hope that the neighboring Volk Pack would leave us alone once I played by the rules. My family and pack deserved a territory of their own to relax while they eased into retirement.
As their Alpha, I owed them this.
At the next table, I bumped into Brittany from Illinois. Her bored expression drew me in.
If I remember right, she hasn’t shown interest in any other Alphas. Can you tolerate her scent?
My wolf sniffed and we didn’t choke.
That was a good sign.
The fruity smell of tangerines and cloves was a little strong for my liking, but maybe this could work.
Plus, she had pretty brown eyes and a dangerous smile. Trouble. Just my type.
“Can I buy you a drink?” I asked, ignoring the soft growl of my wolf.
“Me?” She laughed, touching her chest. “I thought I’m supposed to offer you something.”
She handed me a glass of champagne already poured at her table. My skin crawled as her hand brushed mine, but I stayed steady, trying not to be rude.
“Any Alphas caught your eye?” I asked as I took a step back to give my wolf breathing space.
“None yet. Waiting for my wolf to decide.” She held up her glass and clinked it against mine.
“Same,” I said, turning to look over the crowd.
Atlas had made it to the bar counter.
The other Alphas were prowling the room.
Laughter and chatter rang out as the cameras circled and the dim light hid the worst of our flaws.
“Looks like you’re breaking hearts tonight.” Brittany giggled.
I arched a brow in her direction. “Is that so?”
“Come on.” She rolled her eyes. “Tell me that you haven’t seen all the Lunas drooling over you.”
“Have they?” I teased, trying to move myself closer against the adamant refusal of my wolf. “What about you? Do you think I’m droolworthy?”
“Of course.” Her eyes sparked with mischief as she sipped her drink, leaving a smear of red lipstick on the glass. “I’m not blind.”
In this light, her eyes weren’t as pretty as I’d first thought. The thick eyelashes were caked with mascara. There was lipstick on her teeth. A little too much foundation packed onto her skin.
Growing up in the circus, it was hard for me to trust anyone who painted their face when not performing.
But I tried to ignore it. Really, I did.
That’s all this was. A performance. I didn’t blame her for the act.
“I noticed you don’t seem to want to be here,” I cut straight to the point, needing to clear the air. “What exactly are you looking for in an Alpha?”
Her smile fell as she blinked. “I want what anyone else here wants. Love. A match. Connection. A future.”
Walk away now. You can’t give her that.
“I hope you find it.” I returned the glass to the tray, flinching when I heard her gasp.
“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath as I walked away. Still, when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw her checking out said ass.
“Watch it.” The tense growl had me turning to see Atlas in my path.
“Watch yourself.” I stepped back, feeling my skin ripple with hatred.
This show wasn’t paying enough anyway.
I shouldn’t have been forced to find a Luna just to prove I was worthy of maintaining my own territory. No other Alpha had to. They had daddy’s name as backing, or they won some challenge on established pack land. Like that was proof enough for their worthiness.
It was Atlas’s damn fault I had to be here. To put on this show and play this part. I physically burned with the itch to slam my fist into his face, but I couldn’t.
Not until I won—legally.
Get ahold of yourself.
I needed another drink.
The bar loomed up ahead as the lights above changed, brightening around the center of the dancefloor where Jay Renfro stood.
“Lunas and Alphas and viewers at home, welcome to the final portion of the Luna Trials,” Jay spoke to the cameras.
I ignored him, tired of the rehearsed spiel, until I heard the words that had even my wolf’s ears perking up.
“We have a special surprise for you tonight.”