Chapter 218

Sarah POV

“Ten minutes, everyone,” our camera operator called out.

The kitchen had been put into its usual on-screen order, Melissa was looking over the notes on her phone, Lainey and Whitfield were sitting out of the way, and I was talking quietly to Matthew about the topics we wanted to cover. Zane was standing between the camera and the livestream producer, and the girls were sitting right by the doorway.

Sergi was standing to the side, but only about two leaps away from Matthew.

It felt like we had security everywhere. Danielle was on set, though she would not be shown on camera, and everyone was on alert. Travis and Alicia were walking the perimeter and checking in with Zane every ten minutes.

We hadn’t actually explained ourselves to our small crew, but all anyone had to was look at Matthew to know our plans. There had been a minute where I thought someone might protest or walk out, but so far things had been fine, if a little tense.

I turned from Matthew to the small display area we’d set up with samples of the cooperative’s work, including belts, shoes, and purses. Matthew himself was wearing a luxurious-looking black leather vest with silver accents, which made him look even more stunning. Melissa and I were both wearing small pieces of leather jewelry, and I really hoped Matthew was going to let me buy the purple-and-red bracelet I was sporting on my left wrist.

“Two minutes!”

Melissa put her phone away and Zane threw me a wink that made Matthew chuckle. I smiled into the camera and watched the producer count us down. The red camera light went on, and I knew the three of us were in frame.

“Good morning,” I said. “I’m Sarah Astor.”

“And I’m Melissa Thibodeaux.”

“And with us today is a very special guest, Matthew Kro.”

“Hello,” he said into the camera with a spectacular smile. I saw the producer pull out her phone and look at her screen.

“Matthew here is a member of Omega, Inc., a leather goods cooperative that sells the exquisite leather goods you can see here.” I waved toward the display while smiling at Matthew. “You and the others do incredible work.”

“Thank you.”

I turned back to the camera. “You can see more for yourself by visiting their website. The address is showing now on your screens.”

“So, how long have you been in business, Matthew?” Melissa asked while the producer typed something furiously into her cell. I saw Lainey and Whitmore had their phones to their ears.

“Well, the website is comparatively new, as is our inter-territorial shipping services, but there’s been an omega cooperative in Orleans Territory few several centuries now, though the location and name have changed several times.”

“I assume you’ve had to move around to avoid altercations with other wolves,” she said.

He frowned. “I’m not I’d called them ‘altercations.’ We’ve had many raiding parties, protests, wolves and humans burning down our buildings, things like that.”

“How horrible for you,” I said, trying not to show my surprise at his blunt assessment of history.

“That’s a better word than ‘altercations,’” he agreed. “Ironically enough, the very people who tell us to hide away in shame won’t leave us alone.”

“In fact, you won’t be sharing the actual location of your cooperative with us today,” Melissa said.

“No.”

“But you and your colleagues did agree to take a few photographs of your community, which you’ve bought with you today, is that right?”

“Yes.”

The camera cut off for a moment as five digital photos were displayed on the screen. Matthew had shown them to us the night before, and I knew of everything we did on this stream, showing them would be the most controversial. Photos of happy, creative omegas living “normal” lives was bound to cause anger and disbelief.

The final photo on screen was my cue to ask, “Now, that’s Evlyn, your mate, correct?”

“Yes. She’s working on a special-order purse for a good client of ours.”

The producer turned off her phone and shoved it back into her pocket. I noticed the makeup artist was now standing in the doorway behind the girls.

“You have repeat customers, then?” I asked.

“Yes, in fact, I believe you know this particular client of ours,” he said with a smile.

That hadn’t been planned, but I kept smiling. “Oh?”

“Ambassador Torrin. In fact, Evlyn has named this design of purses the Embassy Line in her honor.”

“She must give your brand great buzz,” Melissa said. “All those parties and dinners.”

Matthew nodded and looked pleased. “Yes, she’s always quick to credit us when she gets a compliment.”

“And you’re right,” I said. “She’s a good friend.” I gave what I hoped was a winning smile into the camera. “And an excellent dresser.”

Matthew and Melissa laughed.

“Has the cooperative, under its various names, always worked with leather?” Melissa asked.

“No, and we have other artisans on the property now, from ceramic artists to painters to textile artists, and of course, woodcarvers.” He smiled at me. “I hear your goddess-daughter Chloe is quite the wood-smith.”

“Well, of course, I think so,” I said, getting a small laugh. The makeup artist was staring at her phone now. “But yes, her teachers assure me she’s quite talented, and we support her in her woodworking and Grace in her singing as much as we can.”

“Grace is your other goddess-daughter.”

“Yes.”

“And I believe I see them over there,” he said, waving, much to the girls giggling delight. “So, how do you feel about having them here with an omega in the room?”

Oh, you’re going to play it like that, are you?

I kept smiling. “Alpha Zane and I have been honored to have you here in our home, and I believe the girls can take great inspiration from your work.”

I held up the bracelet. “In fact, I’m wearing a piece I believe you made, right?”

Matthew kept his knowing eyes on me. “I did, and may I say it looks great on you?”

“I agree.” Casually, I patted his arm and faintly heard someone gasp. Yeah, take that.

“I’m wearing your earrings, I believe,” Melissa said, holding up her hair to show them off.

“You are!” We all laughed lightly.

“And when you think about the future,” I asked him, “do you see omegas living openly and without social stigma with other wolves?”

“I try to see that future, but it’s difficult. Basically, an omega these days has few options: live like a hermit merely for the way they were born, find a cooperative or some other haven that’s managed to remain in existence, or live openly and suffer insults, prejudice, and often violent victimization.”

I shook my head in sympathy.

“Or, you know, there’s that fourth option,” he said, and something about his words warned me, and for a split-second I might have called for the producer to kill the feed or otherwise avoid the disaster that was about to happen. But I wasn’t fast enough.

He looked into the camera. “The Luna Temple, omegas’ last refuge for those willing to undergo the disciplines involved. I confess, being protected by hoods and marble fortresses has never appealed to me, but at least I would be surrounded by omegas who are allowed to be proud of their social position.”

His words ended, and everyone just sort of froze, staring at him.

It was the livestreaming producer who first broke the silence: “What the fuck?”