Page 1 of Claiming the Pack’s Omega (Riverwell Omegaverse #2)

Reyna

F uck, I’m late. I push open the back door to The Warehouse, the bitter cold of not-yet-spring cutting straight through my threadbare hoodie.

You can hear the buzz of drunk beta and alpha men from the main floor, cheering as the current fighters in the cage throw each other around.

I slip through the back hallway, praying I can make it to the girls’ locker room to get ready without anyone stopping me.

With my luck, my fucking boss will call me in and chew me out.

“Hey, Raine!”

Called it.

Raine. It’s not my actual name, but stupidly, it’s close enough.

When I walked into the brothel down the street at 18 and was told to pick a name, I don’t know why I didn’t choose something like the other girls there. Something sweet. Something a little obnoxious. Something that didn’t remind me of, well, me , when I was working.

“Yeah?” I say, stepping into my boss’s office.

Frankie is a squat beta with dark hair, a pudgy face, and acne scars. He’s a bit slimy, but he’s never outright tried to pull anything on me other than not paying out the tips I earned.

“You’re late,” he says, nodding for me to shut the door.

I eye the alpha guard standing outside the door, but he doesn’t make a move to come in before I shut the door. I guess this’ll just be a private conversation between the boss and I.

Great.

It takes all my willpower to suppress my eyeroll.

“Sorry about that,” I mutter. “Had something at home I had to take care of. You know how that is.”

He raises a thick eyebrow. Or should I say mono brow? It’s definitely close to mono brow status.

“Are you not takin’ this job seriously? I thought you preferred it to working for my cousin, but there’s nothing I can do to stop you if you want to work more for him.”

I grit my teeth at the thought of Dominic, Frankie’s cousin, and also the owner of the whore house down the street. The whore house I also work at.

He’s right. I do much prefer being a ring girl here than working down the street. There’s also really nothing a beta like Frankie could do to go against an alpha like Dominic.

But he knows I won’t call him on his bluff.

“I still want to work here,” I say, my jaw clenching.

“Okay then, that’s what I thought,” Frankie says, smugly, leaning back in his chair.

Deep breaths, Reyna.

Based on the way I’m pretty sure my left eye is twitching out of irritation, the deep breaths aren’t fucking working.

Dominic keeps my price high. Says it’s ‘cause I’m top shelf, not just for one of his girls, but for an omega in general, too. I only get on my back for people who can pay that kind of fee, and in the Southside of Riverwell, there aren’t many that can pay that sort of thing.

That makes my work there inconsistent. Plus, considering he barely pays me thirty percent of what he charges, I need more consistent money in order to put food on the table for my family.

My parents barely make enough to cover rent, and I have three younger siblings who deserve at least a chance at a normal childhood.

“What did you call me in here for?” I say, purposefully enunciating all my words and tilting my head in irritation.

If he says it’s because I was ten god damn minutes late, I swear to god, I’m going to... I’m going to do something. I don’t know what, since I need this job, but it’s definitely going to be something.

Knock him out and pluck his eyebrows and nose hairs or some shit, I don’t know. No, he’d have to be awake for him to actually register it as a form of torture.

“I need you to go in and make sure Obsidian wins. You’re his ring girl for tonight,” he says.

I inhale sharply. Tonight’s headline fight is a big fucking deal.

Obsidian is new on the scene. Not new enough for people to not know what he’s made of, but he’s also been going up against other new guys. Tonight, he’s going against what people could consider this club’s home champion: Razor.

Razor got his name because he survived, beat the shit out of, and won against a dude who put razors in his wraps during their fight. He’s got a bunch of fucked up scars because of it and a reputation as a beast in the cage.

People are betting up a storm out on the floor right now. It’s a toss-up who’s going to win.

“Why do you want Obsidian to win?” I ask, shifting my weight to my other hip.

Frankie narrows his eyes. “You askin’ to know business?”

“I’m asking ‘cause you’re telling me to ‘make’ a dude win.” I use air quotes as I roll my eyes. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t fucking care how you do it, just do it. What else is an omega like you good for?”

I just raise one of my eyebrows. A much better-groomed eyebrow than his, might I add.

I’m used to comments about my designation.

Everyone has an opinion about omegas. There’s a decent amount of them here in the Southside, if you know where to look, but the places we tend to be…

well, they tend to look like this. Full of rowdy alpha and beta men who think they’re entitled to something.

Whether it’s a woman’s body, money from the guy next to them, or just something better than this shithole side of town can give them.

And to that, I say get in line, buddy. We all want what we can’t have.

“Fine,” Frankie huffs. “The Sorel family have been poking around Razor and I don’t like it.”

A current of unease flows through me at the mention of the Sorel family.

They’re big in a lot of different things, but I first heard about them because they’re big players in the drug trade.

A lot of the crime families have bad reputations, but the Sorels are the kind of group that has a reputation for making omega girls like me disappear.

Frankie nods at my reaction. “Yeah, you get it. Bad for the family business, considering what Dom’s got his hands in.”

Dom has his hands in being a pimp, so I can see him being concerned about another family making his inventory disappear.

“So you’re trying to usher in a new champion here, then?”

Frankie shrugs. “The Obsidian guy seems to have the potential and I want Razor out.”

I nod. “Well then, I’ll do it. I’ll make Obsidian win. But I get a bonus.”

Frankie leans his clasped hands on the old, rusting metal table in front of him, narrowing his eyes on me. “Fine, you get ten percent of whatever Obsidian wins tonight. If he loses, you get nothing.”

“Fifteen,” I counter.

“Fine,” Frankie huffs, leaning back.

Damn, maybe I should’ve countered higher if I knew he was going to agree so quickly.

“The pool is 10k tonight.”

My eyes nearly bug out of my head, but I school my expression as quickly as I can. I was never good at math, even before I dropped out of high school, but fifteen percent of 10k is easy to calculate. One and a half thousand dollars is a fuckton of money for me and my family.

I could get Savannah that new test-prep book she was eyeing up. I could get Eli that new video game he’s been begging for. I could get Daisy some new paint since I know she’s been running low for a while.

Hell, I’d probably still have money left over. Maybe I could buy my parents something. Maybe I could get myself something. That’s a thought I haven’t had in fucking forever.

I clear my throat. “Got it. I—I should probably go and get ready then. He goes on at eleven, so I wanna talk to him before that.”

“Yeah, go do your thing,” Frankie says, turning down to his phone and waving me off. “He’s in locker room two.”

I give Frankie’s alpha guard a little finger wave before finally heading to the locker room. I say hi to some of the other girls working the floor tonight, some as ring girls like me and others as waitresses.

“Sorry I’m late, guys, Frankie wanted to talk to me,” I sigh, setting my bag down in front of my locker.

“Oh? What about?” Peaches asks as she applies some blush in front of one of the vanities. She’s a tall, blonde beta woman whose boobs are spilling out of the white, cropped button-up top she’s wearing.

“I’m gonna be Obsidian’s ring girl tonight,” I say, taking off my hoodie and starting to change into my uniform.

“What? No fucking way,” Lulu, another omega ring girl hisses from in front of her locker. She’s special, or at least she likes to think so. And to be fair, considering she’s one of the few other omega ring girls, she is, at least to the higher-ups.

“Not my decision,” I shrug, trying to keep my nose from wrinkling at the sour twist of jealousy in her coconut scent.

“You can’t just drop that. What the hell did Frankie say?” Lulu says, putting a hand on her hip.

I purse my lips as I slide on the tiny pair of black, faux leather booty shorts we have as a uniform. If I tell her, I know she’ll make a fit.

“Everything alright?” Peaches asks, her brows drawing down in concern, instead of jealousy. “Did Frankie say some shit? I could try talking to him.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” I sigh. If Peaches is curious, there’s no way I can get out of this by shutting up. “Frankie’s sending me in to ‘talk’ to Obsidian before his fight.”

Peaches’ eyes narrow. “Like some sort of fucking party favor?”

I just shrug, keeping my mouth shut.

“You’re fucking joking,” Lulu sneers. “I can’t believe you would do this, Raine! You knew I was gunning to be his ring girl. I’ve been talking to him after every fight!”

“Hey, I didn’t have anything to do with the decision,” I raise my hands up in surrender. “You know damn well I try to avoid attention.”

Her lip only curls as she eyes me up and down, her gaze lingering on my boobs, which are currently spilling out from the black matching top that’s more bra-like than it is shirt-like.

What can I say? I was born with the figure I was born with.

I didn’t ask the universe for huge tits when I was in utero.

“Yeah, right,” She rolls her eyes.

“We’re literally wearing the same uniform,” I groan, fighting the urge to scrub a hand down my face.

She’s not worth having to redo all of my makeup.

Makeup is god damn expensive. “I didn’t have anything to do with this, Lulu.

Take it up with Frankie if you have this big of an issue with it. I’ve gotta go.”

“Oh, I will!” I hear Lulu yelling before the locker room door shuts behind me.

Now, onto finding Obsidian.