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K N OT YO U R AV E R A G E B E TA

Copyright © 2024 Tana Rose
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN-13: 9781234567890
ISBN-10: 1477123456
Cover design by: Tana Rose
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America

Foranyonethathasfeltaverage, andwishestheycouldbetheoneinonemillion
Myselfincluded
“I always deserve the best treatment, because I never put up withanyother . ”
JANE AUSTEN, EMMA
PROLOGUE: IN WHICH I’M TOLD I’M A VERY SICK GIRL

Fifteenyearsago….
I hate coming here. Have hated it since we started coming two years ago. It was supposed to be just a normal check up. The doctor took my blood and then gave me a lollipop because I’d been such a brave girl. He listened to my heart and my lungs with the stethoscope that was so cold it made goosebumps raise on my skin. And then he took my mother to the side and told her quietly that they found something in my blood. Something that made them worried. Or maybe it was the other way around. They found something my blood lacked, because for the last two years, every month since I turned eight and a half, I’ve had to come here. And every time they draw my blood and then put something back in me.
I’ve asked my mother what’s wrong with me, what sickness I have. One of the boys in my class, Josh Keller, mother got sick with cancer and he said she had to have her blood taken a lot, that she
had to spend hours getting injections, just like me. So I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going on here.
I have cancer, and I’m gonna die, and my mom doesn’t want to tell me.
Though Josh said his mom lost all her hair after her injections. And that hasn’t happened to me yet. Thank goodness.
I reach up now and clutch at the strands with my free hand, being careful not to jostle my left arm where the needle is taped into my skin. It used to bother me. The needles, the medicines, the people with masks over their mouths and those funny blue caps over their hair.
I’ve never seen the faces of the nurses that come in and follow Dr. Schwab’s orders. Just their eyes, which are always kind. Their voices are too. Especially if I get a little scared, because sometimes the medication they give me burns when it hits my veins, like fire. Like that time I accidentally touched the wood stove at Grammie and Pop pop’s when I was six and burned the palm of my hand. Sometimes it’s cold, so cold that it also burns. Like when you spend too long outside in the snow and your skin starts to turn red and tingle and then hurt.
I asked about why they give me different medications, why they feel different when they go into my body, and Dr. Schwab just patted my hand and told me they’re looking for the best treatment for my condition.
What that condition is, again, I have no idea. Even though I’m ten now and could totally understand it, if only they would tell me.
The door to my treatment room opens and Dr. Schwab enters, his eyes on the clipboard in his hand. Brown eyes flick up to me, take me in, gripping my hair like my life depends on it, and he lets out a low chuckle. “I’ve told you, Sadiecakes, you’re not going to lose your hair.”
My lips twitch into a small smile and I release my silky light brown strands to let my hand flop onto the seat of the reclined chair I’m sitting on. “I know, Dr. Schwab,” I say. “Josh Keller’s mom lost all her hair when she had cancer.”
He wheels a rolling stool over to the side of my chair and sits on it. “I guess it’s a good thing that you don’t have cancer then, huh?”
I frown at him. “What’s wrong with me?”
He sighs and rests his elbows on the arm of my chair. “Its complicated, Sadie. Not something you need to worry about. But just rest assured that we’re doing everything we can to help you. All you have to do is keep coming back here, and we’ll take care of everything.”
I frown again, deeper, my bottom lip pushing out into a pout. I want to believe him. Dr. Schwab has been nothing but nice to me every time we come here, but the lack of information is frustrating, even to my ten-year-old self. I want to know what’s wrong with me. I’m old enough to know.
“The kids at school say I’m not really sick,” I whisper, like it’s a secret. “They say since I don’t know the name, it’s not a real sickness. That I’m lying about it.”
He glances around the room. “I suppose we just do all of this for fun?”
I shrug. “Maybe? I never feel sick, Dr. Schwab. I feel fine all the time, except for right after you give me my medicine. That’s when it hurts.” I usually spend the next day feeling too hot, but shivering, with my arms and legs aching.
“That means it’s working,” he says softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I know it’s hard for you to understand, Sadie, but you're helping here. Helping so many people by just coming in to get your medication.”
My eyes grow wide at his pronouncement. “How am I helping?”
A small secret smile curls his mouth and then he shakes his head. “I’ll tell you when we have good news for you, Sadie. I’ll explain everything then.”
By good news, I assume he means when I’m healed, better, when I no longer have to come in twice a month for an injection. Except… that conversation never comes. Even when I’m given a clean bill of health in my last years of college. Even when he told
me I’d no longer have to come in for injections, but he wanted me to keep up my medication at home.
I never was told what was wrong with me. By then, I was just so relieved to not have to worry about it, so used to not knowing, that I let it drop. I was healthy and nothing else mattered.
CHAPTER 1: IN WHICH I RECEIVE AN EXCLUSIVE INVITE

It is a truth universally acknowledged that my mother is a twat.
Not the opening line you were expecting? Well, tough shit. Just like the shit spewing over the phone into my ear from her twat shaped mouth. “You were fired?” She shrieks. “How could you get fired, Sadie? That job was so fucking easy a monkey could do it.”
I frown, but don’t interrupt her to say that the job is not easy. It’s actually pretty complicated selling drugs to doctors and hospitals and pharmacies. Especially when the company you work for is Apex Pharma and they’re quietly under investigation by the FDA.
“I got you that job! Do you know how this reflects on me?” There’s a pause. One that’s long enough that I realize she’s waiting for a response from me.
“I’m guessing, poorly?” I say like it’s a question, when I know for a fact that’s what she means. Even though she did not ‘get me’ the job. Sure, she mentioned I was looking to my old physician, Dr. Schwab, and then got me in contact with the hiring rep, but I’m the
one that actually landed the job, and did it well enough that I’ve worked there for years.
“Poorly?” My mother’s voice rises in octaves until I wince and pull the phone away from my ear, glancing around the cafe I’m sitting in to see if anyone else can hear the high-pitched string of bullshit spewing out of my phone.
They can’t.
Thank god.
As she continues to go off on a tangent to berate me, I pick up my cappuccino and take a sip, then raise my eyebrows as I look down at it. Damn. That is fantastic. I can see why this place is Sylvie’s favorite. I eye the selection of pastry in the case, and kind of wish I’d gotten one of those too.
“Poorly!” my mother repeats, her voice rising to an octave that makes me cringe. “Yes, Sadie. Poorly. Disastrously. Catastrophically. I cannot believe you would do that to me.”
I take another sip of my coffee. “Mother, I didn’t do it toyou. I honestly didn’t think it would affect you in the least. Besides,” I say, cutting her off when she would have continued on with her tirade. “I wasn’t fired, and I didn’t quit. I’m on a leave of absence. A paid leave of absence.”
“Because you fucked your boss and they’re afraid of a sexual harassment suit.” Anyone else might flinch at their mother’s using such crude language, but for me, it’s just a normal everyday occurrence.
“Exactly,” I agree, beaming at a man who eyes me with interest. I don’t really blame him. I’m not dressed for a quiet cup of coffee. No, I’m ready for a night out. Tight black dress, sky high heeled booties, large diamond fishnet stockings, cropped leather jacket. My light brown hair is pulled up into a loose bun, strands of hair artistically frame my face, and my lips are bright red.
I drove the two hours into town dressed like this. Though I have a pair of hard sole slippers in my car for driving. I could have gone to wherever Sylvie is staying and got ready with her, but she’s dealing with a lot of shit and didn’t offer. I didn’t want to intrude. Besides, I like being looked at like a prize. Like being admired. A
beta has to stand out somehow amidst the alphas and omegas looking for a pack.
Especially when she wants to get laid.
Which is the plan for tonight.
Well, no. The plan for tonight it’s seeing one of my best friends and supporting her while she goes through a hard time, make sure she relaxes a bit and then find some dude with an enormous dick to lay me down and ruin my pussy.
Even if that rarely happens.
They try. Of course they do. But sometimes I just need… More.
More than what they can give me. More than a quick fiveminute romp in the sheets.
Unfortunately, that is why I’m in this current situation of being momentarily unemployed. Not unemployed, I remind myself. On a forcedsabbatical.
I’m going to quit. Eventually.
When I find a new job, to keep me occupied. But for now I’ll milk my former company, boss and the two dudes I was fucking for all their worth. Once again, I know how it sounds. But If they want to pay me to keep me quiet about just how easily not one but two of their high-ranking managers fell into bed with a subordinate, I won’t complain.
“I’m not going to sue,” I say grinning at the man with my red painted lips. Heartbreaker Red. “I was as much at fault as they were. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a paid vacation while I look for another job.”
“How are you going to get another job, Sadie? This is the only one you’ve had. This is the one reference on your entireresume. Do you think they’re going to give you a glowing recommendation?”
My stomach sinks at her words. She’s not wrong. I wasn’t well enough to work during high school or college. Focusing on my coursework was hard enough as it was. The medications that they pumped into me made me feel loopy and untethered, dizzy and tired.
They still do when I take them. IfI take them.
Which I don’t. Not anymore.
I’ve honestly never felt better.
I just might end up dying a lot sooner than anyone else thinks. I push that thought aside.
“I gave them so many orgasms, they better have a glowing recommendation for me,” I mutter, pulling my eyes off the man who had been checking me out. This is the problem with my mother. She ruins fucking everything, even some casual eye fucking from across the room.
“As what, Sadie? A hooker? You going to go find yourself a pimp and sell yourself on the streets? What a proud mother I am! My daughter can’t hold down a job, but at least she gives good blowjobs.”
And I’m out.
“Well, as always, your maternal concern is heartwarming, but I’ve got to go. Lots of cocks to suck.” I pull the phone from my ear and hit the hang-up button before dropping the phone face down on the table and ignoring it when it buzzes again. I know from experience that she’ll call twice more, leave an angry voicemail and then promptly forget about me until I fuck up again.
Never have I met a woman less into being a parent than she is, but with the insane urge to berate me every time I make a mistake. Not out of worry for me, but because of how my fuck ups reflect on her.
I used to care about her opinion, but now I realize life is too short to cater to anyone else.
Ignoring the curious looks I’m getting from the other patrons of Bonheur, I pick up my cappuccino and take a sip, groaning at the flavor. Yeah, probably one of the best cappuccinos I’ve ever had. And if the coffee is this good, I’m sure that the pastry is going to be fucking epic. Better get one just to be sure.
Leaving my phone and drink on the table, I head to the counter.
The first bite of the kouign amann hits my tongue like a freaking symphony of flavors. The flaky, buttery puff pastry, the layers of vanilla sugar, the slight bite of sea salt. Deceptively simple.
But I’m pretty sure it would be so easy to fuck it up. As is the way with most French pastry.
But damn if I don’t want to try. I take another bite, then eye the case full of baked goods, halfway wishing I’d bought more than one, but no. If I’m going to be drinking my calories tonight, then I can’t eat my weight in butter, flour and sugar, no matter how much I might want to.
I’ll just have to make this one last.
With that thought in mind, I set the pastry down and pick up my drink again, cradling it in both hands and turning my head to people watch out the window. I have a few hours until I need to meet Sylvie. Enough time for a second cup of caffeine to keep me going.
I should spend this time looking for another job. I should scroll through the help wanted ads. My mother is right. I haven’t had any other jobs besides the one I’m currently leaving, and although I totally kicked ass at it, leaving under these circumstances is definitely less than ideal.
Maybe I need to do something like Sylvie does, become an accountant and work from home with just a handful of clients. Or maybe Sorrel will hire me for the summer. I’m sure I could learn how to fry up hamburgers in her restaurant, The Snack Shack, up on Kilrose Lake. At the very least, I could bus tables and do the dishes. Maybe be in charge of the little bar that opens on the dock behind the restaurant on the weekends. I can mix a mean margarita.
Sorrel never hires enough people. Always thinking she can do it herself. That she hasto do it herself, even though she never wanted to own a restaurant in the first place. Slinging burgers is not her dream.
It’s not mine either, but I’d like to help out my best friend. Well, my other best friend.
“You need a cock to suck? You can call me Katniss, cause I volunteer as tribute.” A low voice says from right next to my table. Right. Because I said that out loud. Of course, someone is going to take that as an invitation. Probably the guy who was eye fucking me
earlier. I sigh and turn my attention away from the window, a frown already pulling at my red lips.
But it melts right along with my panties as I take in the man standing next to me. Did I say ‘man’? Because I meant God. He’s a fucking god. Pale white blond hair long on the top and shaved at the sides, falls over a golden forehead. Dark eyebrows slash over gold eyes. I mean actually gold eyes. I don’t know if they’re contacts or what, but holy hell, I’ve never seen eyes that color. He’s got high cheekbones and a plush mouth I want to lick and he’s tall and wide, but not too big. Big enough that I’ll feel small compared to him, but not that’s it’ll be uncomfortable to fuck him.
I blink as I battle the image of us having sex right here in this freaking cafe on this very table, in front of all these people like a claiming, and then shake the image away. I’ve already ruined my panties just by looking at him, I don’t need to ruin the chair I’m sitting on, too.
As a beta, I don’t pay a lot of attention to scents. I don’t have a scent match. Not like bonded packs and their omegas. The most I do is make sure whoever I’m planning on hooking up with doesn’t smell like rotting fish or burned popcorn or something equally as stomach churning. But this guy, this alpha, smells so good my mouth waters after the faintest inhale.
Coconut and sun and sea salt, a faint hint of rum. A boozy day at the beach. That’s what he smells like and I am here for it. So fucking here for it.
His gold eyes are watching me intently, as intently as I’m watching him, flitting from my messy bun to my tight dress over the diamond fence fishnet thigh highs and down to my black ankle booties.
“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he murmurs, his mouth pulling into a wide grin. “Like really fucking pretty.”
Usually, if a man approaches me about a blowjob before we’ve even exchanged a greeting, I’ll tell him off. But something about this guy has me tipping my lips into a smile, unusually flattered by his easy compliment.
“Thank you. You’re pretty too.” And good lord, is that fucking true.
He preens under my compliment, shoulders straightening just the slightest bit. “I know.”
I laugh and shake my head, brows arching as I wait for him to continue. But he doesn’t say anything else, just stands there staring at me with those gold eyes of his. Under normal circumstances, I might have felt… unsettled by such intense regard, but with him? It feels fucking natural that his eyes should be on me.
And then he leans down, one hand going to the table, the other to the back of my chair, until his nose is on my neck. Goosebumps ripple over my flesh as he takes a big inhale, then groans. “You smell good too.”
My fingers tighten on his shirt—wait, when did my hand move to his shirt?—and I pull him closer. Burying my nose in the hollow behind his ear to breathe him in the way he’s breathing me in. This is… fucking inappropriate as hell for a coffee shop in the late afternoon. But I can’t seem to get myself to stop.
The alpha chuckles and slides his cheek along mine, scent marking me.
It’s startling enough that I pull back from him.
A complete stranger just scent marked me.
That… that shit is even more inappropriate.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, grinning down at me. “You’re meant to be mine, anyway.”
Something about the gleam in his eyes as he says it makes my heart thud heavily in my chest. And, even though I know it’s not true, some part of me wishes it was. A really large part of me does.
“Is that so?” I ask, arching a brow and his grin just widens.
“Yep.”
I hum and toy with my plate. Why am I toying with my plate? Am I nervous? What? No. I can’t possibly be. I’m never nervous around men. Ever. Or at least not since I was a teenager.
We linger there in silence for a moment, and just as I open my mouth to ask his name, his phone rings. He doesn’t pull it out, but his smile morphs… it turns from beaming into something a little
more feral, dangerous. “I have to go,” he says, gold eyes still fixed on me. “But I want to see you again.”
“Does this qualify as ‘seeing’?” I ask, pulling my hand from the plate and shifting to face him more fully.
“We’re looking at each other, aren’t we?”
I laugh and his face lights up. “I suppose we are.”
A second later, he slides a black card embossed in gold on the table. “Give this to the bouncer at the door. He’ll let you into the VIP section. Free drinks on the house. Good for tonight only.”
I don’t look at the card. I’m honestly not sure I can look away from this beautiful alpha standing in front of me. “You’ll come?” he asks, sounding hopeful as hell.
“I’ll come,” I agree, without thinking. Something about him just makes me feel… That’s it. He makes me feel, which is a hell of a lot more than any of the other guys I’ve been with, including the two asshats I just got fired over.
“Fuck yeah, you will,” he growls in a tone that tells me he means I’ll be coming in bed on his cock. And just like that, I’m wet between my legs again. His nostrils flare, like he can scent my arousal, which isn’t possible for a beta, but the look he gives me tells me he knows what just happened in my panties.
He leans down and rubs his cheek on mine again, presses a soft kiss there and then strides away from me, singing along with the song playing over the sound system. Heartbreakerby Marina.
My lips curl into a smirk at the coincidence because the shade of red on my lips is called Heartbreaker. Kismet.
As the door closes behind the pale-haired alpha, I pick up the card, running a thumb over the raised text. It feels fucking fancy as hell, which I suppose is the case if it’s an invitation to the VIP section of the club.
Still grinning like a loon, I pick up my phone and send a text to Sylvie to see if she’s up for a change of plans.
CHAPTER 2: IN WHICH I LEARN TO BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT

Swift isn’t here. It really shouldn’t surprise me. He loses focus real fucking quick sometimes, and I’m sure this is one of those times. He’s probably dangling some guy who bumped into him too hard from a meat hook and running his knife over his skin.
Luca shifts next to me, draping his arm over my shoulders and tugging me into his chest. I take a deep breath of his spiced pear and brandy scent and let it settle me. “Don’t worry about it, baby. We can handle this,” Luca murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear him over the thumping music. His lips brush against my temple as I relax against him further.
We canhandle it. I’m not really all that worried, but sometimes these assholes get it in their heads that just because Swift or Maddox aren’t here, they’re being disrespected, and that makes them act out.
I’d really love to get through the night with no bloodshed. Though even if Swift were here, there’s no guarantee about that.
Especiallyif Swift were here, there’s no guarantee about that. I love the guy. He’s one of the alphas in my pack, but he’s a certified psycho and has a problem with impulse control. If he wants to do a thing, he’ll do it. Sometimes that means ordering a three tiered wedding cake, just because he wanted a slice, and sometimes that means stabbing a knife through the hand of a business associate for taking the last cheese danish. More often than not, interactions with Swift end in bloodshed.
Lots of it.
Still, I’d feel a hell of a lot better if he was here watching our backs. But we’d gotten a call from Maddox, our prime alpha, that he’d be tied up for the night with Duane Griggs, a low level flunky in our organization that was selling secrets to our enemies. Thankfully, nothing too incriminating, since he was so low on the totem pole, but enough to be a nuisance. Swift will be busy with him for the rest of the night.
Which means we’re on our own.
Next to me, Luca stiffens and stills, a predator who’s just sighted his prey for the night. At first I think it’s the men we’re here to meet, but when I follow the direction of his gaze and find a pair of gorgeous women. One of them is dressed down in leather looking leggings and a cropped band t-shirt, but the other is… well, she steals my breath in a tight black dress, short enough to let the tops of her diamond fence thigh highs peek out. Her light brown hair is in a messy bun at the back of her head, and her lips… those fucking plush lips are painted a bright cherry red that makes me want to bite them
She’s so fucking pretty it aches and something deep in me wakes up and snarls: mine.
That’s enough to startle me. I’m a beta and I’ve never had such a visceral alpha reaction to anything. But then… falling in love with someone at first sight isn’t necessarily a purely alpha thing.
Luca is watching her with the same intensity as I am, and my fingers automatically find my phone to pull up the list of VIPs for the night. This section of The Market can be accessed by invite only.
Whether someone with access pulls you from the masses downstairs or you give a card at the door.
Since they came up alone and they have gold bracelets on their wrists, they must have received a paper invite. Which means they should be on the list.
But they aren’t.
Or at least, I don’t think they are.
Luca shifts closer, looking down at the screen with me. “Nothing?”
I shake my head. “Only names I recognize. And I sure as fuck don’t recognize her. I mean, them.” I correct with a wince, but Luca just chuckles.
Maybe we should be concerned that two unknowns just wandered into the VIP section of our club, but honestly, they look harmless, sitting at the bar chatting. They don’t look around all shifty like and they don’t seem to be trying to get our attention. Never mind that they have it. She has it.
It still could be a trap, though.
“I bet it was Swift,” Luca says, taking a sip of his drink. “I bet he saw them, thought they were pretty, and wanted to fuck them.” He’s using ‘they’ and ‘them’, but I know him well enough to know he means ‘she’ and ‘her’.
It makes sense.
If I’m feeling a pull toward her, the alpha instincts of my pack mates are probably going crazy
Swift probably saw her and wanted to fuck her, just like Luca said. He gave her a pass to free booze because he thought he would be here. There’s a pleased laugh in Luca’s voice as he says, “He’s gonna be so fucking pissed when he finds out we fucked her tonight.”
My eyes flick to the girl again, to the bright red lipstick that would look so pretty smeared on my cock. She catches me looking and smiles, bold as you please. Not coy in the slightest. She caught me looking, and she likes it. Doesn’t mind that I caught her looking either.
So fucking sexy.
“The fuck?” Luca growls, drawing my attention to the alpha who just put his hand on the other woman’s shoulder. Our girl moves in a flash, putting herself between the two of them, pushing back on his chest to make him keep his distance. Luca’s on his feet in an instant, moving through the tables with intent. I’m right on his heels, only… It doesn’t look like they actually need our help.
I grab his arm and glance around, checking to see if anyone has noticed the swell of alpharomones trying to taint the air before the scent blockers can neutralize it. It’s not exactly good for business to have the owner flooding the space with a scent that will make everyone in their right minds fearful.
“Luca,” I hiss. “Wait. Watch.”
He glares at me, but then swings his attention back to the trio at the bar. The man releases the woman with a sheepish look on his face, and runs his hands through his hair in an aw, shucks manner.
Our girl doesn’t move from where she is, pressed against her friend’s front like a suit of armor, ready to go to battle for her if necessary. It won’t be. We’ll step in before that happens. But it’s fucking hot to see the fierce look on her face.
Her friend catches us watching, waiting to pull this asshole away from them if necessary, and she gives the slightest shake of her head. Seeing that, I tug Luca back a step, or I try to. But he doesn’t go anywhere, eyes focused on the woman with the bright red lips.
My gaze slides between the two of them, taking in his brows arched in question and her smirk and shrug like whatcanyoudo?
All the tension drains out of my alpha when the blond man finally leaves the two women alone and they return to their stools. I follow the long line of her stocking covered legs as she crosses one over the other, flashing a fair amount of creamy upper thigh.
“Find out who that was,” Luca growls at me, and I tip my head in acknowledgment, fingers already working over the screen of my phone. It doesn’t take me long. By the time we’ve made it back to our stools, I have his picture pulled up.
“Connor Bilkes. Lone alpha. He was raised adjacent to the younger Werth pack. There was some speculation over whether or
not they would ask him to pack up.”
Luca’s brows lower even further. “She put herself in front of a lonealpha? One that could be bordering on feral?”
My gaze cuts to him sharply. I know alphas have a fair amount of instincts involved in a lot of what they experience, but I’m not sure I’ve seen him this protective over someone who isn’t pack. Hell, he doesn’t get this worked up over his brother… but then I guess they don’t really talk anymore.
Yet here’s this little slip of a thing making all his protective, possessive instincts climb to the surface. He’s never reacted to a woman like that in all the years I’ve known him.
But then, I haven’t either.
Something about her draws and keeps my attention. I want to go over to her right now and bury my face in her neck, get a whiff of her scent and see if it makes my cock hard, like I suspect it will. I want to lay her out on a bed with her light brown hair spread out around her and see what kind of noises she makes while I eat her out. Fuck. I want to devour this girl. And I haven’t even said a word to her.
Is this what love at first sight is like? This all-consuming, allencompassing need to get close to her, to know everything about her, to use all five of my sense to figure her out and worship her?
“It’s possible she didn’t know that.” I slide my hand onto his thigh and squeezing gently to remind him to remain calm. Or calmish. “She’s fine. She would have been fine even if he tried anything, because we were right here, Luca. We wouldn’t have let anything happen to her.”
He relaxes in increments, his anger fading until it’s nothing. Finally he nods. “You’re right. We would have stepped in before he could have hurt her. Doesn’t change the fact that it’s idiotic for her to put herself between them like that. She’s so small.”
She is so small, but her friend is smaller and obviously an omega. I think it’s admirable that her first instinct is to protect her friend. I can’t tell if our red lipped temptress is an omega or a beta, only that she’s definitely not an alpha, despite her bold attitude. If I
had to guess, I would say she’s a beta, one that doesn’t let anyone push her around.
Omegas are usually more submissive than she seems to be. Either way, I want her. I know Luca does too.
The girls down the rest of their drinks and hop off the stools, our woman guiding her friend to the stairs that lead to the dancefloor, her hips already swaying to the beat. It takes everything in me to stay where I am.
We have a job to do tonight, and we’re supposed to be right here to do it.
Thank god our table overlooks the dancefloor so we can keep an eye on her, otherwise I’m pretty sure Luca would have gone full alpha and stalked down there, slung her over his shoulder and dragged her to one of the private rooms at the back of the club.
Not that I mind that idea. We just… have to take care of a little business first.
CHAPTER 3: IN WHICH I SHAKE MY GROOVE THANG

I’m in line when I spot Vee coming toward me, hazel eyes scanning the crowds of clubbers, the girls in their barely there dresses and the guys with their shirts unbuttoned too low. I watch as she hesitates, teeth sunk into her bottom lip, and then she twists like she’s going to flee. “Vee!” I yell at her. “Sylvie Grace, don’t you dare!”
She pauses and finds me in the line, a reluctant smile curling over her lips as she walks toward me, hips swaying. Anyone who looks at her has to know she’s an omega. She’s got that cute little omega frame, with all the generous curves. Even after years of being sick, it shines through. She looks as beautiful as ever, even dressed down in faux leather leggings and a cropped band tee. She looks better too. Healthier . I know she doesn’t want to admit it, and she probably never will, but being here near the pack that claimed and then rejected her is helping.
“You look gorgeous, babe!” I pull her into my side, locking her against me so she can’t run away, even though I know she wants to. The faintest whiff of sugared nectarines hits my nose, more of her scent than I’ve ever encountered before. “Don’t look at me like that, Vee! You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to come out with me.”
She gnaws on her lower lip again and shakes her head. “I thought maybe just this once we’d go somewhere, you know, quiet. So we could talk.”
I ignore her pointed comment and tip my head until it rests on her shoulder. She’s not too much shorter than me, but I have to slouch the littlest bit to reach her. A faint whiff of cherries hits my nose, making my nostrils flare, and I look around, trying to see where the scent came from, but it’s stupid because we’re surrounded by people. Anyone of them could smell like cherry pie.
The line in front of us moves and I tug Sylvie forward, with an arm around her waist coming to a stop in front of the huge alpha door man. He runs a critical eye over both of us, lingering over Sylvie in a way that has me wanting to shove him back and snarl at him that she has a pack already. My best friend won’t appreciate that, and she’s already shifting uncomfortably under his gaze, so I beam my best beta smile up at him.
“Hey, there.” I reach into the gap between my boobs and pull out the invitation I got earlier. Excitement zips down my spine as I hand it over. I’ve never been invited to a club before, not like this.
“You know you could have come right up to the front with this, right? You didn’t need to wait in line.”
I beam up at him even wider. “I know.” Lies. “But I was waiting for my friend.” I squeeze Sylvie closer to my side. “That will get us both in, right?”
He nods. “Sure, will. You could invite the entire line if you wanted with this card.” That takes me by surprise. He pulls two wrist bands out of his pocket and attaches them. They aren’t the normal papery ones. No, these seem to be very thin metal wristbands. I’m honestly not sure how we’re going to get them off, since I have to cut the paper ones every time. “These will get you into the VIP area,
up the stairs at the back, and they’ll grant you access to the private rooms if you need them. All your drinks are on the house tonight, ladies. Enjoy yourselves.”
“Oh, fancy.” I tilt my wrist this way and that as the bouncer unhooks the velvet rope and steps to the side to let us through.
“Sade.” I can just barely hear Sylvie over the thrum of the music, but I pretend like I can’t.
“Where do you want to go first? The VIP area? Or should we just get right to dancing? Is it weird I want to check out the private rooms?” I can only imagine what goes on in there, and I want to see if my filthy mind is right.
Probably not. It’s probably more like meeting rooms, where boring business men go to do boring business things. They can’t be rooms to have sex, right? That’s like… not legal or something.
“Sadie Marie.” Sylvie shouts at me, digging in her heels, and yanking back on her arm so I’m forced to stop and face her. “Tell me what that is about!”
I take a moment to look at my friend. One of the best I’ve ever had, one of the only I’ve ever had, If I’m honest, along with Sorrel. She looks stubborn and fiery and I’m once again struck by how much bettershe seems, not just in terms of her health, but mentally. In the past, she would have just let me drag her wherever I wanted to go. Sighing, I lace my fingers with hers and squeeze. “Let’s get a drink first.”
She lets me pull her through the club to the back, where I can just make out another hulking figure standing at the base of a set of stairs. I’m gambling that it’s the VIP area, so I beeline for it and, just like I’d hoped, he lets us up with hardly a glance at the shimmery bracelets on our wrists.
Upstairs the music is still loud, but decidedly less so from the scene downstairs. We’ll be able to have a conversation up here for sure. The lighting is dark, only small lamps on the tables and behind the bar offer any illumination. But I can make out some low couches with tables between them and then some high top tables.
There’s a railing that overlooks the rest of the club, the writhing mass of bodies below.
I’m itching to get down there, to grind on some strangers, to get sweaty. To lose myself to the music and just fucking let go. The urge is skittering over my skin, but I need to be a good friend first.
Sylvie has had to deal with more bullshit in her life than most, and it’s important that she knows I’m here for her.
With that thought in mind, I pull my attention away from the surroundings and move to the bar, pulling my friend along behind me.
A pretty beta with silky dark gray hair and shimmering blue eyes comes up right away, giving us her best customer service smile.
“What can I get ya?”
“Unblended Margarita,” I say, feeling like this is a tequila night.
“Paloma,” Sylvie orders with a tight smile. I can already tell she’s planning to have just the one drink and that won’t do. Whether or not she wants to admit it, she needs this as much as I do. She needs to let everything fucking go for a few hours. She so rarely does it. Usually only after I push her to it, and she always thanks me after, leaning into my side as she smiles drunkenly up at me.
“Oh!” I say, like it just occurred to me. “Let’s each do a shot of tequila, too.”
Before Vee can argue, the shots are in front of us, along with a salt shaker and slices of lime. She shakes her head, but I’m already picking up her hand, licking the skin between her thumb and pointer finger, and then doing the same to mine.
“You’re not going to overthink this, Vee,” I say, sprinkling a liberal amount of salt over the wet spot on her hand and then mine. “You’re going to take this shot, and then we’ll take our drinks down the bar and talk, just like you want to.” I flutter my lashes at her, in the way that makes most men do whatever I want. “Pretty please?”
She folds with a rueful look. “Fine.”
“Cheers.”
“Sláinte.” I keep my eyes on her as she licks the salt and throws back the drink before I do the same.
“Atta girl.”
“Here you go.” The bartender slides our drinks over to us. “My name is Glory. If you ladies need anything else, just let me know,
okay?”
“Thank you so much.” I say, grabbing my drink and heading down the bar, commandeering two stools and then taking a surreptitious look around, hoping for a glimpse of pale hair and gold eyes. No such luck, but I do find two gazes locked on me from a low couch across the way.
My mouth goes dry at the sight of the two men cuddled up together. They’re sitting so I can’t tell how tall they are, but from the long legs splayed in front of them and the broad shoulders, I can tell they’re big. Alphas? One is bigger than the other. Their dark clothes blend in with the dark lighting, and I can’t really see much of them, the lamp on their table making their faces all shadows. But I can feel their intent perusal of my body. I can see the corner of one of their mouths tip up, while the other’s tongue darts out salaciously, dragging along his lower lip.
The big one slides his hand onto the other’s thigh and then farther up, while the smaller one leans up to say something in his ear, lips brushing against in a way that has my pussy clenching and I couldn’t even tell you why.
A shiver runs down my spine that ends with my panties being soaked. Just as easily as that.
Sylvie joins me after tipping the bartender, and I have to drag my gaze away from their heated stares and focus on my friend. I take a sip of my drink and then slide it onto the bar, painfully aware of the angles of my body, wanting to display it to the best of my ability for the men whose gazes I can still feel on my body.
“Okay,” I say, keeping my eyes on Vee. “I’m ready. Tell me everything.”
She arches her brows at me and glances around. “I’m more interested in why we’re here, when you promised me a quiet dinner where we could talk. I mean, really? How the hell did you pull this off? VIP section? Free booze?”
I sigh and lean forward. “Okay, full disclosure. I totally intended to take you to dinner, just like I promised. But then I was at that coffee shop that you like-”
“Bonheur . ”
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