Page 22 of Your Wild Omega (The Feral Actress #2)

Chapter seventeen

Red

“Cut! Wrong side!”

I swallow down a groan and pass the horse’s reins to the handler—a real groom, not one playing a role like me. One who’s good at what they do.

Director Yun scowls at me, and I wither a little inside. “You do realize you need to be on the same side as James to converse with him, yes?”

I nod mutely.

The first day of shooting was easy. We covered different shots of me grooming and riding horses, coupled with an array of takes on our racing track that will serve as the opening credit montage, all with changing daylight.

And no speaking parts.

Day two marks my first dialogue scenes, and I’ve been hit with a realization I never considered before being on a set: actors stink.

Watching movies hasn’t prepared me for the assault of body odors hitting my nose.

And it’s not just the actors. More people crowd around us than I’d ever imagined, and the lingering breeze drives their combined scents straight up my nostrils.

Now I’m on take four of a scene and so far I’ve stuttered, grimaced, and twice led the horse out on the wrong side while being distracted by odors.

Thank my lucky stars the scent of horses doesn’t make me want to puke.

A hand rests on my elbow. “Everything all right?” The scent of wine chutney swirls around me as Bradley Jacks, or rather James, crowds me. “If you need to take a break, we can.”

I cover my nose and mouth and step back. “No. Sorry, I’ll get it right this time.” Fuck, all I want to do is drag my face along Rickon’s neck until my nose clears, but everyone’s waiting for me.

I’m used to people looking at me like this. Watching to see if I’ll put a foot out of place again. If I get things wrong, I’m not just wasting my energy, but every one of the crew member’s efforts. It’s a lot of pressure.

The director calls the next take, and I reset my position to mount the horse. The scene’s called, and I dismount on the correct side and lead the big chestnut out of the exercise arena. James, the racehorse’s co-owner, leaves his conversation with the other racing elites and strides over.

“Ashana!” he calls cheerily, breaking into a jog to come up beside me. “How was his pace?”

I stroke the red-gold neck bobbing beside me, ignoring the camera that runs in front of us, fixed like a giant mechanical eye on our every move. “Very lively, Mr Heatherton.” I beam and turn to my co-actor. “He’s—”

A gust carries a hit of the cameraman’s scent right into my face. Apple licorice. I choke. Of all the disgusting scents in the world, it had to be that one. I cover my mouth, gagging. No matter how good I am at switching personas, some bodily responses I can’t escape.

“Cut!” the director yells again.

Fuck me.

“Let’s take a ten-minute break,” Mr Yun says with a disappointed huff, and my heart sinks to my toes.

His jaw sets and he turns away to grab a water bottle.

Is he regretting taking on a newbie actress?

Cold, invisible hands close around my throat.

It’s not too late for him to switch out the leading lady.

“Hey, Red,” Rickon murmurs.

I sigh in relief as his and Zack’s presences surround me.

I know Rickon wants to be more hands-on with me on set, but he’s hampered by Zack, who doesn’t respond well when the other actors get close.

But I’m never going to complain about having both my alphas nearby, even if it means Rickon can’t be as involved.

“Is something wrong?” He wraps one arm around me, and I dig my nose into his collar, not caring about my makeup.

He’s wearing a shirt with a black pattern down just one side and has gone for a smoky look and a touch of gold dust over his lovely pale eyes.

Rickon’s so gorgeous; I can’t believe he’s mine.

“All the scents,” I murmur, breathing deep in his vanilla frosting. “It fucking stinks.” His gentle scent soothes the nausea lurking in my stomach.

“You mean the horse?” he asks, confused.

“No.” I chuckle. “I’m talking about the people.” I straighten and tap the side of my nose. “Very sensitive nose here, remember? And it’s hard to breathe, let alone say my lines.”

“Really?” He brightens with understanding and looks around. “Even out here in the breeze?”

I groan and straighten out my spine. “Unfortunately, that’s making it worse.”

“Okay, well, we can’t put diffusers out here .

. .” He worries his bottom lip through his teeth and squeezes my hip as he looks around.

“Oh. We could try some neutralizing patches. I’ll have to go off-set to buy them, though.

” He taps my shirt. “We can stick them under your collar and see if it makes any difference?”

I rest my hand against his cheek. “You are amazing.”

He softens into me, eyes shuttering in appreciation. “Not as amazing as you.”

I press my lips gently to his forehead. “It feels like you’d do absolutely anything for me.” My gaze slides free from his platinum hair, and I catch Bradley watching us with clear interest. He’s always watching my alpha.

“Of course I would.” Rickon slides his face along my fingers and kisses my palm.

His sexy grin as he looks up makes my heart flutter.

“Glad we’re on the same page. I’ll go speak to Mr Yun.

” His gaze turns fiercer, staring into my soul and stripping past the role I play to the woman within. “Sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

I snort and wave a hand around the set. “I think I can manage not to get trampled by a horse while you’re gone.”

He chuckles. “Not the horses I’m worried about.”

Zack’s wary gaze flicks over my shoulder as he leans in, and I press a kiss to his scratchy beard.

He turns his cheek and slides it across mine, careless of my makeup as he marks me with his scent.

When he steps back, his scent lingers around my mouth, sweetening each breath.

Could he possibly understand what I’m struggling with, or is it simply alpha instinct when he sees his omega so close to other alphas?

Zack’s also turned into an actor. Just like a role he’s embraced, he’s compliant in public, silently watching everything that goes on. But the moment we get home, the leash comes off, and, well, he asks for what he wants.

I smother a smile as I watch them walk away. Zack can only tolerate having me out of sight for a few minutes, so Rickon better hurry.

A male voice intrudes on my reverie. “You know, I can’t take my eyes off you.”

I flinch, not having noticed when Bradley approached. “Is that right?”

“Yeah.” He beams down at me, giving me his full attention. “You have this glow about you. Honestly, I thought that was just an expression, but after watching you, I have to change my tune.”

Well, what am I supposed to say to that? “Thanks?” I offer, tone quizzical.

He laughs, and it’s a nice sound. “Has Rick talked about me?”

I study him. Objectively speaking, Bradley’s an attractive alpha, with glossy brown hair, a neat beard covering his strong jaw, and bright green eyes.

Yet to me, he seems plain and his alpha aura lacks something.

I suppose I’m spoiled from being around Zack’s intense presence, and Rickon’s flawless style and loving gaze.

And even if he’s not mine, the way Callisto fills out a suit jacket can make a girl thirsty.

By comparison, this alpha whose smile doesn’t reach his eyes comes off as boring.

“Rickon?” I hum. “No, he hasn’t talked about you at all.”

Bradley’s expression shutters. “I see. Well, we’re actually quite close.

He has a standing invitation to my house anytime, and that includes you too.

” He goes to run a hand through his hair, then recalls his team has carefully styled it.

“I live in Ommywood Mount, so it’s got a lovely view of the city. ”

Damn, who do I need to channel for this situation? I’m sunk deep into Ashana and she wouldn’t give a fuck about fancy houses; she just wants to ride. “Uh-huh. And why would we go there?”

His mouth flops open for a moment before he collects himself. “Well—”

I interrupt, flashing my sweetest smile. “There’s no horses up there, right, Mr Heatherton?”

Confusion blazes across his face and I turn away with a giggle, heading to the table where snacks and bottles of water sit in baskets.

I saw through Brad’s game back on the first day of table reads.

This peacock wants my pretty alpha, but I’m not willing to share with someone so ungenuine.

Nor with someone who couldn’t handle my wild alpha.

I crack the seal on a new bottle and take a swig, trying not to laugh through my mouthful as I imagine how shocked Bradley would be if he ever witnessed Zack’s unleashed domination. It’s too comical to even consider.

Sebastien Cho, the second love interest in the film, walks up beside me, bumping the table to draw my gaze. “Rough day?”

I shrug. “Rough scents, more accurately.”

His eyes widen. “Oh. From all the people?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You must have one hell of a nose.”

“That I do.” I glance across the swarm of people on the crew, and it’s all a little hollow without Rickon and Zack watching over me.

His voice drops to just above a whisper. “Did Bradley bother you?”

I glance at him in surprise and find him also scanning the scene. After a moment’s thought about his question, I shrug. “I have to stay on good terms with my horses’ owners, right?” Meaning, we’ve got a lot of filming to do and if I piss off the other actors now, the months ahead will be miserable.

Sebastien snorts. “That you do. But you can also put alphas in their place anytime you like, Ms Jones.”

I lean my ass on the table, and the trestle shifts slightly under my weight. I grin. “Does that include you?”

His eyes light up with amusement. “Definitely.”

“Then put your cards on the table, Sebastien. Why are you looking out for me?”

He grins and grabs a water bottle. “With all due respect, I’d fuck you in a heartbeat, but that’s all it’d ever be.”

“Playboy,” I scoff, hiding a smile. His honesty’s far less threatening than Bradley’s guile.

Sebastien chuckles. “We’re actors. What choice do we have? You’ll need to seduce the crowds too, soon enough.” He sobers and shakes his head. “I’m waiting to find a scent match to start a pack.”

I hum under my breath. Like me, he’ll settle for nothing less than soulmates. Brave, but his chances are low. “You know that’s rare, right?” Not as rare for omegas, but alphas far outnumber us. The ratio is not in their favor.

“Yep.” His ebony gaze slides my way. “But from my observations, it’s well worth it.”

My heart stirs with emotion. However much I endured waiting for my pack, it all pales compared to the love I have now. “I can vouch for that,” I murmur softly. “So worth it.”

The thought meanders through my mind. Did I just think about the horrors I endured without breaking into a sweat? Is this what it means to heal?

Callisto’s plea from a month ago to testify in court ghosts through me.

I want the licorice bastard to pay for his crimes, but I don’t want to ever see him again.

Not since he’s the one who destroyed my chances of enjoying my heats.

But with my alphas at my back, even the one who rejected me, I’m stronger.

I’m leaning less and less on the roles I’ve studied on TV, and instead finding out who I am.

Clearing my throat, I straighten and turn away from the crowded set to face my coworker. “I get more sex than a vagina could ever need, Sebastien, so let’s just take that off the table right now. But I don’t have many friends.”

He chokes on his sip of water as I offer him my hand.

“How about it?”

Grinning, he swipes droplets off his chin and shakes my hand. “Deal, Red Jones. We’ll keep our upcoming kiss scene all business.”

We share a smile, relieved to be on the same page.

Sebastien nods thoughtfully. “You know, you strike me as someone who wouldn’t hold back the truth.”

I shoot my fingers at him. “Definitely. Which is exactly why I need to tell you that your portrayal of an OCB officer is too gentle. Every agent I’ve met has this gruff edge. Even their kindness felt a bit like sandpaper.”

The director booms into the loudspeaker, calling a five-minute warning for the shoot to start again, and I drop my water bottle on the end of the table.

Sebastien salutes me. “Gruffer, tougher. I’ll do my best, ma’am.” He drops his hand, lips pursing. “But how many agents have you met?”

“Plenty.” I beam at him. “Didn’t you see my face on the news? Plus, the alpha I keep on the leash? I stole him out of prison.”

Leaving the stunned actor behind, I stroll away, pleased with myself. Not counting my own alphas, the two OCB agents living in my house, and my fellow rescued omegas, I think I just made my first friend.

And I wasn’t even in character.

On my way to the dressing room, a staff member outfitted all in black bustles up to me, holding a basket of flowers. “Are you Red Jones?”

I nod. “In the flesh.”

She smiles in relief and thrusts the basket into my hands. “These are for you.”

I glance down. Red roses and white baby’s breath nestle beside brilliant purple irises, the yellow-splashed centers bright as sunny smiles. I pluck the card from its clear plastic skewer and read Callisto’s message. Knock them dead, gorgeous.

I grin. All my alphas are cheering for me.