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Chapters (51)
  1. Dedication
  2. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  3. Chapter 1
  4. Chapter 2
  5. Chapter 3
  6. Chapter 4
  7. Chapter 5
  8. Chapter 6
  9. Chapter 7
  10. Chapter 8
  11. Chapter 9
  12. Chapter 10
  13. Chapter 11
  14. Chapter 12
  15. Chapter 13
  16. Chapter 14
  17. Chapter 15
  18. Chapter 16
  19. Chapter 17
  20. Chapter 18
  21. Chapter 19
  22. Chapter 20
  23. Chapter 21
  24. Chapter 22
  25. Chapter 23
  26. Chapter 24
  27. Chapter 25
  28. Chapter 26
  29. Chapter 27
  30. Chapter 28
  31. Chapter 29
  32. Chapter 30
  33. Chapter 31
  34. Chapter 32
  35. Chapter 33
  36. Chapter 34
  37. Chapter 35
  38. Chapter 36
  39. Chapter 37
  40. Chapter 38
  41. Chapter 39
  42. Chapter 40
  43. Chapter 41
  44. Chapter 42
  45. Chapter 43
  46. Chapter 44
  47. Epilogue
  48. To my readers
  49. PLAYLIST
  50. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  51. ALSO BY DEVYN SINCLAIR

People turned the line itself into a party because the chances of getting into the club were so slim. That, and in general I wasn’t a club person for all the same reasons.

“You didn’t think you could get in?”

“Oh, I know I could have. But clubbing? Alone? A recipe for disaster.”

A low growl emanated from his chest—a sound I now associated with their frustration whenever I was mistreated. It probably shouldn’t make me as happy as it did. “Well, you’re not alone now.”

Wes opened the door and got out, holding it for the two of us. “How are we getting in?” I asked.

Ben shrugged. “I know the owner. He has a killer sleeve I did for him. If we run into him, I’ll have to show you.” He was still holding my hand, and I squeezed his.

It was the little things that mattered—like not using my name as an excuse to pass go and collect two-hundred dollars.

The front of the line eyed us as we approached the bouncer. An Alpha who easily matched Ben for height and strength. He looked us up and down with a skeptical eye.

“Bennett Gray.” Ben said before the man could ask why the hell we were trying to skip three city blocks’ worth of line.

The bouncer blinked. “Of course, Mr. Gray. Welcome to the Pavilion.”

Ben nodded to Wes behind us. “This is my Omega’s bodyguard.”

“Not a problem.”

My whole body flushed with pleasure at the way he said my Omega. Utter possessiveness and no room for doubt.

A predictable groan came from the line as we stepped through. I gave them a sympathetic look and heard a gasp. “Oh my god, that’s Esme Williams.”

Ben’s hand landed on my lower back and he ushered me inside. The small entryway was relatively quiet compared with the dull roar of the crowd outside and the pulsing bass notes I felt from within.

Ben turned. “Wes, I hope you know I’m not insulting your manhood when I ask you to hold Esme’s bag?”

Wes smirked. “Not at all.”

I handed him my small purse and followed Ben into another circus.

It was immediately clear the Wellbridge Studio party had tried to imitate this vibe and failed. What they’d tried to create with a temporary space, the Pavilion was able to build and keep.