Lights, Camera, Omega (Hollywood Omegas #1)

“Let’s do,” I beam, sitting up straight in my chair and laying a delicate fabric napkin across my lap as Julian serves me a glass of chilled cremant de bourgogne.

“Daphne,” Magnus begins, pinching the delicate stem of his champagne flute.

“As packmaster of Pack Silver, I would like to request that we begin our formal courtship at once.” Magnus holds his glass aloft, already preparing a toast.

“Pack Silver?” I echo, confused. I haven’t meant to say anything other than a resounding yes–and yet, my tongue has run away with itself again.

A surprising smile creeps across Comso’s lips. He’s the first to respond, “I know that your agent, and other professionals in the industry know us as the Panopticon Pictures pack,” he explains, spreading his hands wide.

“Which is by design,” Magnus interjects, quick to take the helm back from Cosmo.

“We like to keep a little distance from our professional lives and the real us,” He explains soberly.

I nod, though I’m still not sure where the moniker Silver comes from. I hardly want to press the matter now when there are so many other delicious matters potentially at hand.

“That makes perfect sense.” I smile, lifting my own champagne glass.

“Well, I would like to officially accept your offer to court—Pack Silver.” I tip my glass toward the center of the table in a mirthful toast.

“Here here!” Julian adds gleefully, joining in with his own glass.

“Cheers to that!” Sol leans forward out of his rigid chair to facilitate making contact with the rest of our glasses as they join together in a chorus of dreamy crystal chimes.

Daphne, a vision in satin and gold curls, swept into Cypress House like a cool breeze.

Without any obvious fear or trepidation, she announced her desire to begin courtship in earnest—to which Pack Silver eagerly obliged her.

We made plans; Daphne–on heavy suppressants to keep her from falling into her first heat before she’d been placed with her pack—announced that she would be reaching out to her team at the omega center to begin tapering down on her meds, readying her for her first heat.

While all of us have been more than a little excitable during this whole process of meeting and starting the business of courting an omega as a pack—none of us are due to be in a true rut for another several weeks. With luck? We’ll be able to start getting in sync with Daphne over the next month or so, as she gets her meds and her cycle figured out for the first time, albeit a little later in life than most.

There had been serious conversations about everyone’s careers, especially Daphne’s. There was Sol’s upcoming stint on the new Amos Bennet picture, doing stunt work and horse wrangling, the upcoming filming schedule for myself and Cosmo, the rigorous pre-production Julian would be involved in for costuming ahead of virtually disappearing for a few weeks to prepare his Fall/Winter collection for runway shows in Paris and Milan. None of this seemed to phase Daphne, herself already hoping to be filling her time with new omega-level gigs she was in the process of auditioning for.

The subject of children had been an unexpectedly easy one. Everyone is interested, but no one is in a rush.

As for our current disparate lifestyles… Well, that appears to be one of the areas where we will have to do the most amount of work.

Daphne, still living in her economy one bedroom with her red tabby, had no objections when Julian and I floated the idea of getting her settled into a new, more appropriate nesting space as soon as possible. With the rapid changes that her adjustment in meds will inevitably bring–it simply makes the most sense.

As for the matter of formal courting and bonding, it was immediately established that we would all begin the process of calling on her, presenting her gifts, and learning one-another’s needs, social rhythms.

Not to mention familiarizing ourselves with one another’s bodies.

All of this with the explicit understanding that there would be no bonding until after Daphne’s first heat.

“I feel like it’s a little antiquated, don’t you?” Daphne had titters nervously.

“No, not at all,” Cosmo answers with surprising swiftness.

I appreciate his candor, jumping in on my behalf. Though, if we were going to eventually bond Daphne herself, I owe her an explanation. I resolved to tell her during our date—the first in her quartet.

“I’m not gonna lie.” Daphne blushes, barely opening her apartment door wide enough for me to see her beautiful freckled face. “I’m so embarrassed that you, specifically, have to pick me up at this place.” Her smile is anxious and tight as she slides herself out into the hall with the door pressed tight behind her—denying me even the smallest glimpse inside.

“And why is that?” I purr, eyeing her over the top of my horn rimmed sunglasses.

“You’re like—walking luxury,” she snorts a laugh.

“Everything about you seems expensive.”