“Pay close attention,” the auctioneer said. “You may find a diamond in the rough.” He tipped his head and winked at Fenrir.
He must be in Michelle’s pocket, instructed to help draw attention Fen’s way to better his chances. Out of all of the guests present, the White Frost were the most elite. They’d want to fight over what was considered a coveted product.
Of course, it drew the attention of others as well, and Fenrir got back to work, careful not to allow his gaze to linger on anyone he didn’t recognize from the headshots Michelle had made him memorize.
The auction officially began with an omega four places away from him, and he tuned it out, uninterested. If he worried about the rest, he would falter, and he couldn’t risk that. He’d help these omegas if he could, the ones like Nadia who didn’twant to be here. Everyone deserved the right to choose, even on a planet as vile as Synastry.
A shiver skated up his spine suddenly, an odd sense of awareness causing him to turn his head to the left and up toward one of the private balconies. The air caught in his lungs the second he locked eyes with a pair of jade green ones.
The alpha had his arms propped against the banister, his stance casual if not for the intensity of his expression. His hair was golden blond, carefully styled, and he was clean-shaven and dressed in light colors. Silver cufflinks winked at his wrists, and Fenrir didn’t have to see the embossed design to know they’d have the mark of the White Frost.
Oberon King.
His position within the mafia was unknown, either because he’d never been given an official title, or because it’d been kept a secret, but he was high up the ranks. Rumor had it, he’d bankrolled the initial operation and had helped Leviathan Morningstar rise to the great heights that he had.
Fenrir didn’t pay much attention to rumors.
Or the mafia, as it were.
The only reason he knew Oberon King’s face was thanks to Michelle’s headshots, but she’d assured him the higher-ups of the White Frost wouldn’t be in attendance tonight. The invitations had been carefully curated, and Fenrir knew for a fact that Oberon hadn’t made the guest list.
So…why was he here?
And why did he appear to be so interested in Fen?
Even if the guy was here looking to get laid, surely Fenrir wasn’t his type. Hell, Fen would pass for one of the alpha’s underlings more believably than he would an omega. Considering how carefully put together King’s appearance was, Fenrir figured he was into presentation. Creating the perfect image.
Getting with an imposing omega like Fenrir wouldn’t aid that picturesque vibe.
Fen pulled his gaze away and stubbornly went back to perusing the crowd, pretending not to notice that the alpha continued to stare down at him.
Was it curiosity? Yes, that must be it. King was most likely trying to suss out if there’d been a mistake and Fenrir had accidentally been allowed into the roster. While larger omegas weren’t unheard of, it wasn’t the norm, and hadn’t Fen just been thinking about that same thing himself moments ago?
Another member of the White Frost was seated in the second row, and he was watching Fenrir as well. Note Hex was on the safe list, high enough up the ranks to be useful to Michelle, yet low enough not to be too great a risk to Fenrir. If he could get a member like Note to win him, he was confident he could complete the mission.
Probably spend a satisfying night in the alpha's bed as well, considering how attractive Note was. He had the same imposing stature as the rest of the powerful men in the room, but there was a softness to him that urged Fen to let his guard down slightly. There was danger in that, but the auction was only for one heat. Simple. Straightforward.
Of course, if a pregnancy resulted from it, a new contract would be drawn up between the Wardrobe and whichever alpha had gotten lucky enough to sire young, but that wasn’t something Fen had to concern himself with.
The drug, Rebirth, could alter a person’s proclivity, confuse an alpha’s biology into believing it was an omega, for instance, but it couldn’t grow organs that weren’t there. Having been born an alpha and undergone his presentation before being sold, Fenrir didn’t have a womb. He might have been made into an omega, but being forced to carry someone’s child was never something he’d have to worry about.
Not that there was a high chance any of them would get pregnant here anyway. Synastry was suffering from devastatingly low birth rates, which was why the experiments conducted on Fen and the rest had been allowed in the first place.
Things were arguably better now that the future emperor had supposedly taken the helm of the program, but Fenrir and his friends had yet to see this lauded progress.
Michelle was still in charge of the Wardrobe, so how great could things truly be?
No, Fen’s only real chance was this. If he put his faith in things like Imperial princes, he’d be a fool.
He forced himself to smile at Note, morphing his expression into a coquettish one, just like he’d practiced in the mirror. Having used it on Michelle enough times to garner promising results, he knew the look would convey everything he was trying to get across.
If the mafia member bid on him, Fenrir would ensure they both had a good time.
Then he’d betray Note and earn himself everything he’d always desired.
Chapter 2:
Oberon didn’t like the way the man on stage was looking at Note Hex.