Page 26 of Your Wild Omega (The Feral Actress #2)

He stares at me, then releases his grip. “Later.” That’s a word he understands well. Hopefully the rest of the day will go just as smoothly.

I thought superstars riding in limos to red carpet events was completely gratuitous but given how much space my dress takes up, it seems I was wrong. This skirt barely fit in the car when I visited Sorentito’s, so it’s a relief to spread out in the luxury transport Rickon booked for tonight.

“I feel like a peacock,” I whisper, barely touching my fingers to the pearl and cubic zirconia arrangement Rickon’s pinned to the side of my head. Long tufts rise high above my hair, waving softly with each of my movements like underwater fronds.

Rickon traps my hand, tugging it away from my hair. He grins as he says, “But you’ll be the most beautiful peacock on the carpet.”

I chuckle, the kink of nerves in my belly evaporating.

The car slows and then stops in front of a walkway bordered by crowd barriers. “Ready?” he asks.

I nod, my curls brushing across my back with every movement. It was worth it to wear a turban all day, because my curls set perfectly and now masses of crimson ringlets hang around my shoulders. I’ve watched actors walk the red carpets for years on TV, but now it’s finally my turn.

Rickon releases my hand. “I’ll get out first, then you, then Zack. Once I’ve settled your dress, walk slowly forward and I’ll follow a few steps behind you.”

I frown. “Are you sure you won’t walk beside me?”

“No, Biscuit. This is your first moment in the spotlight.” Event staff open the door, letting in a gust of warm air filled with crowd scents. “Time to shine,” he whispers as he slides out.

The red carpet stretches up a series of concrete plateaus to the photo wall, the whole walkway lined with press. Ahead of us, Sebastien waits in line for his gala photos, and a trio of women beyond him pause by the rope railing to give an interview.

Rickon reaches a hand back through the opening for me.

“Be good tonight, Zack,” I murmur before sticking one foot out through the door like the famous omega actress Olivia Hunston. I move slowly, easing my layered skirts out, and they fall around my ankles in a foamy spray. Just like sea foam.

Whispers run through the crowd as cameras flash. “Who’s she?” the media teams ask each other.

They don’t know my name yet, but they will. I turn back and offer my hand to Zack. He slides out, rumbling with discontent as the scents of so many strangers reach him.

“Shh,” I murmur, squeezing his hand. “Don’t worry about them.

We’re all safe.” I say that, but I know it’s a dog-eat-dog world among the rich and famous.

Although I’ve had positive experiences on set so far, Rickon’s constantly reminding me the industry has a nasty underbelly of gossip and slander. Anything could happen tonight.

Doesn’t worry me though, because I cut my teeth on bitches and snakes. Plus, the alpha at my side wouldn’t let anyone lay a hand on me.

“Let’s go,” I murmur just loud enough for Zack to hear, then step forward, lifting the front of my dress the way Rickon taught me. My wild alpha paces beside me, appearing serene and devastatingly dashing in his suit. Of course, the bond between us tells me he’s on highest alert.

The whispers explode as people catch sight of the leash. Publicity stunt. Trying to make a splash. Weird . None of it bothers me.

A journalist waves and calls out. “Will you give an interview, miss?”

I glance at Rickon and he nods, gaze flicking to the slow-moving line ahead of us.

“Certainly,” I tell the middle-aged man with the blue bow tie.

He sticks his microphone out far over the barrier. “Is this your first time walking the red carpet?”

I smile sweetly, subtly turning Zack and myself for the best camera angle. “Did my nervousness show?”

“Not at all,” the journalist says. “You look stunning. Who are you wearing?”

With a graceful spread of my skirt, I drop my shoulder back and twist to reveal the open side. “I’m honored to be wearing this gown from Hannah Sorentito. It’s a preview from her summer collection. Isn’t she a visionary?”

I might be a nobody, but the moment Sorentito leaves my mouth, everyone within hearing distance swivels to fix their attention on us.

“For me, Red Jones, to be gifted such an opportunity, well, I’m thrilled.

” I do my best attempt at a mix between earnest and coquettish, turning my head and avoiding blinking as much as possible.

Resting a splayed hand on Zack’s chest, I add, “And my partner here is sporting a vest from Ri-Jones Couture. Doesn’t he look great? ”

I glance over my shoulder to wink at my first alpha and catch his surprised reaction. Rickon might do vests and corsets as a hobby, but he’s talented enough to be listed with the big names in my opinion.

“Yes, he’s certainly drawing attention.” The reporter assesses Zack up and down and gives in to his curiosity. “Is there a reason for the leash?”

I collect some of the slack on the metal chain arching between me and my alpha. “There is. Zackary Jones was recently liberated from an alpha fighting ring. You might’ve heard about the OCB raid on the news a few months ago.”

I rest my hand on Zack’s jaw, and he tilts his head into my touch, watching me intently.

“He’s still learning how to navigate social situations, so we’re using a leash as part of his rehabilitation.

He has the potential to be quite energetic .

. .” I lower my voice and lean forward. “. . . if provoked.”

A quick hand gesture over my shoulder indicates our ever-present OCB guards. “And the Omega Crimes Bureau has my gratitude for providing assistance with Zackary’s rehab.”

The reporter’s eyes widen. “A fighting alpha? Is it safe for him to be out in public?”

“Sir,” I say, tone turning sharp. “He’s spent most, if not all, of his life being caged up.

I couldn’t ask him to endure more of that.

We’re a pack, and pack should be together, don’t you think?

” I soften my tone and pout a little before turning to face his colleague’s camera.

“In fact, we’re raising money to support rehabilitation for these at-risk alphas. ”

I add the fund name Rose sent me and lean into Zack, who puts his arm protectively around my shoulder, rumbling with unease. More cameras click. More awareness means more alphas helped.

The reporter looks from me to Zack, lips quivering as he processes. I thought journalists were quick on their feet, but it appears this situation has him stumped.

He blinks free of his paralysis. “That’s very altruistic of you.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s about saving lives.”

Rickon steps up and rests his hand on my back. “The line’s moving,” he whispers.

I nod and farewell the reporter. He tries to call me back, but I’m pretty sure Rickon’s going for the “leave them unsatisfied” tactic. Curiosity hooked the media. That was Lola’s strategy in the movie Camera Shy when she wanted her photographer friend to get famous.

I want to be a film star, yes, but the bigger this story gets, the more awareness we’ll raise for the abandoned fighting alphas.

Another limousine sidles up the drive and ushers out an actor I recognize from the Crime Scene Squad TV series. A shiver of excitement trickles under the skin on my bare arms, raising goosebumps.

The men and women on-screen helped me survive the horrors of the House of Bitches and taught me how to function in a society I had no access to.

I never could have broken out of the Omega Center to find my alphas without the Alpha Spy movies, or figured out how to dress to impress without the Omega Goes Out reality show.

They offered me inspiration and hope amid the violent horrors I endured.

And now it’s my turn. I’m finally walking the same red carpet as my heroes.

I’ll hide it for as long as I can, but one day, girls are going to learn about the shadows in my past, and they’ll see it’s possible to overcome anything. Those Bitch fuckers won’t hold me back.

The thought leads me straight to Callisto, who’s trying to put them behind bars. I want that. Once I swore to destroy the alpha who forced me through my heats. I haven’t forgotten my anger—it’s just that anger leads straight to her: the version of Red I can’t control.

Zack crowds into me, peering down with a concerned expression.

I swivel and rise to kiss him, reassuring us both. “I’m okay,” I murmur. “Today’s not the day to be distracted, is it?” Cameras flash around us, immortalizing the wild alpha’s loving concern for the chaos tumbling through our bond.

The line ahead of us moves, opening up the main staged area with the film festival logos.

I know Rickon planned to stay behind me, but I don’t want to experience this moment without him.

I wrap my arm around his waist and propel him forward as I step into the limelight.

We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.

“Wait, Red—” Rickon protests.

Ignoring him, I swing us to face the press, and the smile on my lips isn’t faked at all. I wouldn’t have made it this far without my sweetheart alpha. I don’t intend to leave him behind for even a second.

Lights flash everywhere and I grin. My moment in the spotlight has come and it’s fucking amazing.

After a few different poses with cameras snapping all around us, Rickon guides me in through the open doors to where the crowded opening gala is getting warmed up. Arm in arm with him, I catch the precise instant when his entire body tenses and his steps falter.

I follow his gaze across the floor and lock eyes with a blonde actress wearing a sparkling midnight blue dress. Her oily gaze slides down my body, and then her head snaps up, a look of fury marring her pretty features.

“Lyra,” Rickon mumbles.

Oh, no wonder she looks familiar. She’s the twat who dared to fire my alpha.