Omega in the Sand - Aria Grace Page 0,11

don't ask, I'm almost certainly going home the moment I go into heat.

Which, given my body's past behavior, will probably happen in less than twelve hours. Being an omega sucks sometimes.

"Yeah, I guess. Wish me luck, I guess." I hop to my feet and take a deep breath.

"You've got this," Anders's says, giving me a pat on the shoulder. "If anyone can get that alpha to do something, it's you."

Rolling my eyes, I shoot him a grin of thanks, even though I definitely don't feel confident. But I can't let this island adventure end before it's even started.

That’s why I force myself to put one foot in front of the other and march out the door.

It's still morning. The air is chilly but the sun has started to chase it away. Several other omegas are out milling around, stretching on the grass or eating breakfast. My stomach growls to remind me it's empty.

Despite my better judgment, I look longingly at the kitchen on the first floor of the staff house as I walk past. A continental breakfast is laid out on several long tables by the back wall. Some of the other omegas are chatting inside or hanging out on the patio while enjoying a cup of coffee. As much as I want to stop and grab something to eat, I can't. If I want any chance of getting my hands on some new suppressants, I need to find Duke as quickly as possible. Otherwise, I'll be on a one-way trip back home.

I head toward the main building of the hotel. The staff are busily putting the finishing touches on the lobby and reception areas. Several of my fellow omegas are dressed as bellhops, in red thongs and bellhop hats, to carry luggage up to the guest rooms.

I ask the receptionist if he's seen Duke, and he directs me toward the marina. Grimacing slightly, I hug my robe around my body and jog awkwardly down the path. I really hope the guests haven't started to arrive yet. I'm almost certain Duke will shut me down if they're here.

After all, we were given plenty of warning. We'd been told a million times to make sure we had suppressants. Farron even texted everyone the morning we were to meet the boat to remind us. There's no excuse for not having suppressants right now. Yet, I'm left scrambling like an idiot, hoping to beg for mercy. And after the way I talked back to him last night, I doubt he's going to be merciful.

Alphas don't like being challenged, after all.

As I reach the end of the path, I catch sight of Duke. He's standing a short distance away, completely alone. But his gaze is directed out toward the open water, where a massive yacht is gliding toward the island.

My heart skips a beat. I'm absolutely screwed.

"Duke!' I call out, charging forward despite my reservations.

He flinches and turns to face me. His expression is masked by a pair of large sunglasses, but his outfit is otherwise unchanged from yesterday. Save for the fact that he's now wearing a white tank top with the word "Security" stamped across the front and back in black lettering.

"What are you doing here?" he demands, pulling off his sunglasses and glaring at me as I approach. "You're supposed to be getting ready for your shift."

"I know, but there's something really important—"

"Have you eaten?" He seems annoyed as he checks his watch.

"No." I blink in confusion as his question throws me off balance.

He huffs. "Do you have sunscreen on?"

"N-no? But—"

"Have you checked in with your supervisor? Learned where you're supposed to be working?" His tone is climbing in volume as he speaks.

"Not yet, but that's only because—"

"Then you need to go take care of all that," he insists, shaking his head and folding his arms as he turns away from me. "You were hired to do a job, not run around asking questions."

"It's kind of an emergency," I say. Now he's just pissing me off. He hasn't even given me the chance to finish my sentences. I'm not going to just sit back and let him treat me like this.

"You think you've got an emergency?" he counters, whirling on me with frightening speed. "I've got a yacht full of rich, entitled, fuckwits about to descend on this place." He spears his finger out in the direction of the yacht barreling toward us. "I've got to check all their bags, but my security team dropped the ball and they have no