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F aye

The ballroom is full of breakfast smells: hashbrowns and bacon, toast and jam, and thick black coffee. Alphas laugh loudly and omegas flirt boldly, and I’m in the center of it all, firmly seated on Cayson’s lap. I’m trying desperately to look like a woman in love, even though none of it’s real. Not the way Cayson and Ezra are gazing at me, nor the bond we’re faking to everyone around us.

But we have to play our roles. Especially in front of Kurt and the ultimas. Even now, I can feel Kurt’s eyes burning into me from across the table, but I don’t look at him. If I do, any happiness and humor I have will slip away.

Just another couple of weeks, and The Selection will be over. Cayson and Ezra can reject the bond with Kurt, which will ruin Kurt’s claim on me, and I’ll be free of everyone, and back at my cabin. I just have to keep pretending to work on my bond with my “mates.”

“Is that comfortable for you, Jelly Bean?” Cayson asks, fluttering his eyelashes in a way that has me fighting laughter.

“Not really,” I whisper to him, trying to be quiet enough that everyone else won’t hear.

If we’re going to keep up this ruse that Cayson and Ezra are my mates, people can’t hear me complaining about Cayson showing me extra attention. I should be like all the other ladies with their chosen mates, just dripping with honeyed words and kisses, while falling all over myself for them.

The thing is, I am uncomfortable.

The discomfort isn’t from Cayson’s lap, which is actually quite nice. I’m practically drowning in his scent, which mingles with the breakfast smells and makes my mouth water. And for such a big, muscular man, he certainly provides a nice seat. Even still, I can’t seem to relax. I just… don’t know how to be a mate. I’ve never even had a boyfriend. Everything we’re doing feels strange and foreign to me. Like someone just told me that I’m a duck, and I’m trying really hard to be one, but I’m just not.

“Is there something I can do to make you more comfortable, Jelly Bean?” he asks, combing his fingers through his dirty blond hair as he flashes me a wicked smile.

This time I do laugh. “No, I’m fine.”

I study his profile—the way his strong jaw runs into his neck—and when I catch him looking back at me, his eyebrows raised, I clear my throat and turn away. As much as I’m supposed to be pretending to be his mate, I can’t let him know I find him kind of cute. He’d make this whole experience so much worse if he knew I was actually having trouble resisting him. I mean, the teasing and playfulness would be absurd with his ego that big.

“Bite,” Cayson says, holding his spoon out, and his eyes sparkle as he looks at me.

A blush covers my cheeks as he holds the spoon a little closer. I eye the yogurt with berries and granola, and reluctantly open my mouth, feeling like everyone is watching the exchange as I take the spoon into my mouth. This has to be too much, even for mates, right?

“Is that good?” Cayson asks, bouncing me a little on his leg. “Do you want another bite?”

Beneath me, I feel him harden, and I try to pretend not to notice the way he watches my mouth while I eat. Cayson is many things, not the least of which is a horny bastard. I shouldn’t even feel flattered by his reaction to me, knowing he’d probably react like this to any woman in his lap.

“Make sure to give her some walnuts,” Ezra says, scooping some from his plate into the parfait with his spoon. “They’ll make her brain big and strong.”

And Ezra, for all his seriousness, is enjoying this far too much, at least based upon the fact that his brilliant blue eyes are filled with absolute mirth. I guess the only blessing is that all this silliness should make it clear to everyone that we’re the perfect mates, just like we’re supposed to be.

If only I wasn’t dying from embarrassment.

“Guys,” I whisper, cheeks flaming, “stop.”

“Stop what?” Cayson asks, leaning closer.

“You know what,” I tell him, feeling out of breath as his dark eyes slip down to my chest.

“It’s funny how girls are always telling Cayson to stop,” Ezra jokes, smirking.

“ Actually ,” Cayson says, drawing out the word. “They’re usually telling me to never stop, while with you, they wonder when you’re going to get started.”

Ezra’s gaze swings back to me. “He talks a big talk, but that’s the only thing that’s big about him.”

I laugh.

Cayson rotates his hips under me, making me gasp. “Faye is absolutely aware of just how much I’m packing.”

“Man, a slight breeze could get you going,” Ezra drawls out, but there’s a little irritation in his voice.

“It’s not a breeze causing this,” Cayson says, rotating his hips again.

My jaw drops open. “Guys!”

Another plus of Cayson and Ezra fawning over me like this is that Kurt hasn’t had a chance to so much as get within an inch of me. Cayson zeroed in on me the second I walked into the ballroom, bringing me over to the table while Ezra started bringing plates of food. By the time Kurt came in, I was already firmly situated in Cayson’s lap, a spectacle for everyone to gawk at, a little bit of everything from breakfast laid out in front of me.

Kurt is positively fuming, his arms crossed as he stares daggers across the table at us. I try to ignore him, but his attention still makes me uncomfortable, and there’s that familiar acrid taste on my tongue in his presence. It’s weird though. Cayson and Ezra are better at chasing away my fears of Kurt than anyone or anything I’ve ever experienced. With them, I sometimes even forget he’s around. Kurt is like the big, bad monster from my nightmares, whom Cayson and Ezra are able to make prance around in a pink pair of panties.

“Another bite,” Cayson says, making little airplane noises as he brings the spoon to my mouth.

My face feels like it’s on fire. This is too much!

“You don’t have to feed me like I’m a baby,” I mutter, trying to take the spoon from him, but he puts a finger up, holding it out of my reach.

“You’re my omega,” he says loudly, so anyone passing by will hear him. “I’m not going to let you lift a single one of your pretty fingers.”

He holds the spoon up to my mouth again. This time it has a bite of raspberry pastry, which happens to be my favorite, so I swallow my pride and lean forward, taking the bite from the spoon. When I open my eyes, Ezra’s gaze is focused on me, a funny look crossing over his face.

“Yes,” Ezra says, gesturing to the plates and plates of food spread out across the table, “an alpha should treat their omega like a queen.”

“Or a Jelly Bean,” Cayson says, flicking the tip of my nose.

I hear a stifled laugh and I glance to the table next to ours, where Addilyn is trying her best not to cackle at my situation. Deep down, I know she must be at least a little bit jealous. She's been trying to get her hands on alphas since we got here, and here I am, pretending to bask in the attention of two of them. But it’s definitely not jealousy she’s feeling right now.

“The cutest Jelly Bean,” Ezra adds, his tone deadpan but a tiny sparkle behind his eyes showing how much fun he’s having playing along with this charade.

“I’m going to come up with nicknames for you,” I threaten.

Ezra lifts a brow. “What kind of nicknames?”

“I want to be called… python ,” Cayson says dramatically.

“Python?” I ask, confused.

He presses himself harder against my ass and lifts a brow. “Yeah, your python, baby.”

“Why is everything about your… about your…?” I’m too embarrassed to finish my sentence.

Cayson leans in closer. “Say it.”

I shake my head.

To my surprise, he lightly bites my bottom lip. “I’m going to get you to say it eventually.”

Ezra clears his throat. “Maybe she should be in my lap.”

“Like hell,” Cayson mutters.

I look at Ezra. “I’m going to find a nickname for you too.”

“Yeah?” He actually looks happy about that.

“Good morning, everyone,” a commanding voice says.

I freeze, immediately dropping my head in deference to Brock, the ultima who’s standing at our table. Near me, I feel Cayson and Ezra doing the same. Keeping my head lowered, I don’t look up at the dark-haired man. It’s partially because he’s an ultima, and partially because I’m still upset about how little he did about Serra’s death. About Kurt killing an omega, at The Selection, in cold blood. He at least seemed to consider my side, but that consideration didn’t go very far.

“Good morning,” Kurt says, sarcasm laced through his tone.

“How is everything going today? Are you enjoying exploring your mating bond?” the ultima asks, and I can feel his gaze practically pinning me in place.

I swallow, waiting for one of the guys to speak up, but all eyes are on me. I realize that I’m the deciding factor here, so they want to hear what I have to say about our bond. My eyes trail across the table, landing on Kurt, and a shudder runs up my back.

“If I’m being honest, sir,” I begin, struggling to speak. I’m unable to meet the ultima’s eyes, so I talk to the floor instead, praying Brock doesn’t tell me to speak up. “I think I have a very strong connection with Cayson and Ezra.” I glance at Kurt, whose hands are gripping the edge of the table tightly, his knuckles a ghostly shade of white. “But I don’t think that Kurt and I have a connection.”

Glancing beneath my lashes, I study Brock’s face, but it’s impossible to read. At least, unlike with Hector, he doesn’t seem shocked that I don’t want to be tied to the man I accused of killing my brother and Serra. Yet, he still doesn’t seem to have accepted that there’s nothing in this world, or any other, that could make me want Kurt as a mate.

“While that may be true,” Brock says, as if choosing his words carefully, “remember that it’s important to explore your connection to all of your alphas. It will give you the chance to ensure you really understand the bond. Our goal here at The Selection is to forge bonds that will last lifetimes, and unless you take it seriously, we can’t begin to do that. Surely, Kurt must have felt something, some sort of forming connection, or he wouldn’t have claimed you. Honor him by giving that a chance.”

As Brock speaks, a lump forms in my throat, and I just nod, unable to say anything back.

“What about it, Jelly Bean ?” Kurt drawls, his voice dripping in loathing and sarcasm. “Why don’t you come and sit on my lap for a while?”

The thought of it makes bile rise in my throat, and I tighten my arms around Cayson, who sends a threatening glare across the table at Kurt. Both Ezra and Cayson are glaring at the other alpha. Ezra’s arms come around my shoulders protectively, and it comforts me a bit to know they’re on my side. Remembering the presence of the ultima, I try to speak, to say something intelligible, but my words come out garbled, and, to my horror, a single tear slips down my cheek.

“I—I?—”

“That’s alright,” Brock says, holding up a hand, his brow wrinkling, like he doesn’t understand what an omega would have to lose by exploring her mating bond with an alpha. For everyone else, the worst that could happen is that it wouldn’t work out. I’m not that lucky.

I picture the dead, staring eyes of my brother, and the same of the girl we found in the woods. The worst case scenario for me isn’t just that Kurt and I don’t bond, it’s that he grows tired of playing with his food and finally just kills me the same way he’s killed others.

“Perhaps this mating bond is just going to take extra time,” Brock says, putting his hand on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt continues glaring across the table at the three of us, and I place my forehead against Cayson’s chest, not wanting to see Kurt’s icy stare. “Try to be patient, Kurt.”

“Oh, I’m trying,” he says, and when I glance up, I see him smirk at me. “But an alpha can only be patient for so long.”