Lights, Camera, Omega (Hollywood Omegas #1)

“You’re up.” He gestures to the empty bottle of perrier.

“Wait, shouldn’t you spin the bottle?” Daphne’s eyebrows shoot up.

“I thought that’s how it worked, the person the bottle lands on spins the it next.”

“Oh, well, I know that’s how it’s usually played, but I suppose I had assumed that, since the members of our pack have all done plenty of inter-pack smooching, we’d cover new ground.” Julian shrugged, but upon seeing a flicker of disappointment on Daphne’s face, quickly amended.

“But, I supposed there’s no harm in playing by the original rules.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaning down to take hold of the gilded body of the bottle—waiting for anyone to contradict him before giving the green glass vessel a spirited spin.

No one protests.

“Well then, away we go!” Julian gives the bottle a whirl.

Now it’s my turn to hold my breath. Much like Julian, I had anticipated Daphne spinning the spent bottle of perrier until she had made her rounds through Pack Silver. While none of us have exactly expressed the specifics of our inter-pack dynamics… It is a conversation that will likely arise sooner rather than later.

The paperwork through the placement agency requires applicants to simply indicate if there are any pre-existing inter-pack relationships with a simple “Yes or No” selection before being placed with a prospective omega. While many prospective packs may be eliminated from selections by different omegas for answering yes or no to this question, placement agencies often don’t bother with documenting any specifics, as the layers of nuance in each situation are best left to in-person dealings between the omega and the prospective pack they are courting.

In keeping with our earlier airing of dirty laundry, I suppose it’s better that she finds out some of the finer details of our pack as a unit—rather than having to cross that bridge later.

I’m so lost in thought, that I almost miss the bottle slow to a stop–pointing directly at me.

A surprised laugh escapes Sol.

Magnus chokes on a lungful of smoke, struggling to get his coughing fit under control.

Julian, incredulous, turns his shocked expression from Magnus, to Sol, then me before he finally makes his way back around to Daphne, who clearly doesn’t understand what’s so funny.

“I feel like I’m on the outside of a joke here.” She gives a tentative chuckle, tucking a beachy golden curl behind her ear.

Of all our different pairings and tessellations past and present—this configuration is highly unusual. I contemplate saying something to this effect, but it’s Julian who speaks first.

“When you spoke with the placement specialist at the agency, you had to make a choice about whether or not you wanted to potentially be placed with a pack that had pre-existing interpack relationships, right?”

Daphne’s steady, girlish blush deepens to a furious shade of tomato red.

“O-Oh, yes. Of course, I elected to be courted by any and all packs.” She nods repeatedly, clearing her throat and squirming in her seat.

I actually feel the grin pull at my lips as I continue to watch this unfold. Unexpectedly spicy, this one.

“No two packs are the same in the way that they conduct inter-pack relationships,” Julian explains carefully.

“For us, we most frequently tend to pair off.” Julian made a series of large looping motions around our assembled circle with his hands.

“You and Magnus,” Daphne interjects—understanding widens her eyes and stokes her already furious blush.

Julian nods.

“Sol and Cosmo?” she says on a gasp, her head snapping around to regard Sol and I.

“Guilty as charged,” Sol confesses, stretching back into his pool lounger like a sleepy house cat unfurling himself in the sun.

“Being the pack beta, I help Sol through ruts when both Cosmo and Magnus were away on work.”

Now it’s Julian’s turn to blush.

“I see.” Daphne nods dreamily.

I can smell her from here. She’s on some serious suppressants, so it’s not as overwhelming as it would be if she were in heat, but goddamn, she smells heavenly. It’s all I can do not to claw my way to her chaise and consume her.