Page 14 of Claiming the Pack's Omega

I feel like shit.

Hopefully this new client is into the whole “Sleeping Beauty” vibes I’ve got going on.

There’s a knock at the door before I hear the handle twisting.

I guess I’ll figure that out soon.

CHAPTER 5

Theo

Ididn’t know what to expect when I walked into “The Dollhouse.” Milo found out this is where Stone’s mystery girl works pretty quickly.

As demonstrated by the poles and stage out front, it’s registered as and presents itself as a strip club. That said, it doesn’t put much effort into hiding the real nature of this place and the darker tastes it caters to.

Like buying a night with an unregistered omega to the tune of three thousand dollars.

It’s not a ridiculous amount of money for me and our pack, considering what we all do for a living and the family that Milo comes from.

Well, technically, the family we’re both from since his family adopted me into theirs after I bounced around in the foster care system.

But just because three thousand dollars is trivial for us doesn’t mean that’s the case for the Southsiders who live near here. I’d argue that sort of price is set to intentionally deter the majority of Southsiders from purchasing time with these omegas. Or at least, this omega in particular, considering she was priced the highest.

This does point to a very specific kind of client: a Northside alpha with terrible ethics that doesn’t want to shell out the kind of money the Omega Center pushes for to overlook being an abusive asshole.

I find the door I was directed to and go right in.

I’m supposed to act like the kind of alpha who would go to a place like this when I’m in the more public areas of this establishment. Confident. Selfish. Dominant.

Easy enough to play the part of a shark when I am one in my day job, at least when I’m in a courtroom.

I freeze when the door shuts behind me. So much for acting like a shark. I’m a deer in headlights. Except, the headlights are the omega in front of me.

Damn.

Stone has liked other omegas before. He’s not an honorary monk like Milo, but he’s never acted as consumed by an omega as he did on that call the other night.

Reyna “Raine” Carver doesn’t disappoint.

Her scent is delicious and earthy, reminding me of the scent of morning dew.

She’s spread out on her side, at the foot of the bed, one leg hiked up a little bit to show off the curves I can see through the white lace robe she has on.

Her raven black hair is spread out all over the red sheets in loose curls.

Her makeup is flawless and only enhances her features like the graceful slope of her nose and the plumpness of her lips.

She’s stunning.

But she also hasn’t moved since I entered the room. She doesn’t even stir, not even when I’m standing in front of her.

Is she asleep?

“Hello?” I say, reaching out tentatively before squeezing her shoulder lightly.

She jolts awake, pushing herself up and blinking like she’s trying to clear her vision.

The most stunning, startlingly intense storm gray eyes blink up at me. They’re lined in dark makeup that makes her look like a siren, ready to lure men to jump off their ships and into a murky ocean for the chance to look into them.