Page 124 of The Bounty

We fight the hormones as best we can, even when one of us is in Heat.

We endure.

And as I share knowing glances with the others, it gives me hope.

* * *

Every Alphathat’s escorted me to their room inEden. has acted more strange than the last.

My first night was a pop singer I recognized. At one time, I even liked his music.

He didn’t touch me. He just stared at me, his eyes wide, as I looked awkwardly off into the distance.

And for a moment, I considered taking the tranquilizer, just so I could get through it.

“Can I see your mating gland?” He had asked in a shaky voice, and I made a face and lowered the collar of my couture dress to show him.

He jerked off in a corner, painting the thousand-dollar couch with his cum, as he stared at my body.

Then, he sent me back to my suite.

The second night was an older Alpha, one with a furrowed brow and grey eyes. His scent was subtle and welcoming, and he placed a hand on the small of my back as he walked me into his suite.

He asked me for relationship advice concerning his Beta wife.

It was bizarre, and I left his room dumbfounded and untouched.

I don’t know what the hell I am here. I’m a counselor, girlfriend, fake wife…I’m whatever they want me to be.

Whatever they wantusto be.

There are only two rules for them: don’t leave marks, and don’t give a mating bite.

No one has tried to take me yet. They just want to hold my hand. Pet my hair.

Cuddle.

It’s fucking bizarre.

But every night, I find myself on the bathroom floor, sobbing into the marble, slick staining my dress.

By Saturday, I’m reminded by my assistant how excellent of a job I’m doing.

How my “sacrifice” is helping the economy.

It makes me want to fucking scream.

They provide me with enough blankets to make a nest for the entirety of Beverly Hills, but the thought of doing so makes me nauseated.

They think they understand Omegas—but they don’t.

It’s fucking heartbreaking.

Now, at the end of the week, a cocktail in my hand at the bar, I catch a familiar face out of the corner of my eye.

The Omega has much more confidence than I do; her body language is commanding, her eyes fiery as she regards the handsome Alpha in front of her. He’s clearly interested, as his eyes keep falling to her lips and she laughs at something he says, lightly touching his arm.

Hannah Matthews stands in front of me, her energy commanding the room.