26

Gripping my fingers together, I squeezed my hands between my knees to keep from fidgeting. I was fighting to prevent my mind from going down a dark rabbit hole full of hopelessness and despair. There would be dozens of women fighting for the coveted role on the show, but I was the strongest. I knew I was. No matter what it took, I would make this work. I had no other choice. Nothing else would bring pride and honor back to my pack.

“Kira Durst,” a voice called out.

My head snapped up in surprise. The door beside the security guy had opened. A small, bespectacled woman stood there, looking down at a clipboard. Before my body could freeze in fear, I leaped to my feet.

“Here,” I said, walking toward her.

She glanced up from the clipboard, gave me a quick once-over, then shrugged. “This way.”

I followed after her, and the door shut behind me. I felt strange, like I’d been cut off or crossed over into another world. It sent my stomach into nauseous flips. There was no going back now. I was in it. And if I was? Then by the gods, I was going to win it.

The woman led me to a large room shrouded in darkness except for a stool beneath bright studio lights. I scanned the room. A man and a woman sat at a desk directly in front of the stool. They were obviously supposed to be the talent judges, but my Tranquility operative training had honed my ability to read rooms. They were nothing more than figureheads. In the far back, almost completely cloaked in shadows, sat another man, legs outstretched, ankles crossed, dark sunglasses covering his eyes. He was the real power in this room. The decision rested with him—whoever he was.

“Another blonde, I see,” the male judge said. He had the distinct look of a half-demon. I could see the faint outline of small horns on his forehead. “Kira? Is that right?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Well, go ahead and strip off the clothes. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

My eyes widened, and I tilted my head. “Does that line work with all the girls?”

Both he and the female judge laughed in good-natured surprise.

The female gestured toward my body. “I know it’s a strange request, but our show is about desire and need. We want to make sure you have all the, shall we say, physical prerequisites to be a good fit as the lead. We want the alphas to really yearn for you.”

I hadn’t planned on this, but it was what it was. Being an operative had required me to do lots of things I wasn’t necessarily comfortable with. I’d run ops in fatigues, bikinis, bathrobes. Once, I’d even been naked. This was a piece of cake compared to taking down a scumbag incubus who’d infiltrated a nudist resort.

Shrugging indifferently, I peeled off my clothes, leaving my bra and panties on. I made a slow turn before facing the judges again.

“Happy?” I asked.

They were both scribbling on notepads. What the hell were they writing?

The half-demon glanced up and, in a very offhand way, asked, “What’s your breast size?”

“I’m sorry?” Had he really asked that?

The female judge looked at the male. “Jurion, I keep telling you that’s not important. If they’re too small, we can get her a pushup bra or something.”

As she talked, I quickly dressed.

The half-demon—Jurion—sighed as though she’d told him he wasn’t getting a birthday gift. “Fine.” Addressing me again, he said, “So, we’re looking for someone charismatic. We need someone who will not only make the alphas want to fight for her but also get the audience to root for her. Do you think that is something you can convey?”

Cocking an eyebrow, I said, “Charisma comes from being honest, not fake. People can smell fake from a mile away. I’m not going to bat my eyelashes and shake my tits at the camera if that’s what you’re looking for. I am who I am. Either they’ll like me, or they won’t. I’m not about to change myself to make the viewers or alphas want me more. I’m here to win. At any cost.” I stared directly at the judges. “I’m ready to move on to the next step of the auditions. I think you know I’ve got what it takes.”

My bravado wasn’t entirely false. I did think I had what it took, but being that forward might backfire spectacularly. It was a last-second decision on my part to differentiate myself from the other auditioners. I suspected the other women would all be falling over themselves to suck up or pander to the judges. Being different might work in my favor.

A relieved breath escaped me when I noticed the mysterious man in the back leaning forward, his elbows on his knees as he studied me. I had to fight to keep the grin off my face.

The female judge raised her eyebrows in admiration. “Bold. I like that.” She looked at her clipboard. “How long ago were you rejected?”

“Less than a week ago.” I said it as if I were reading from an encyclopedia.

Both judges snapped their heads up, pinning me with shocked gazes. Clearly, that was not a typical answer.

“You were rejected by your fated mate less than a week ago?” Jurion asked. For the first time since I’d stepped into the room, he looked truly interested in me.

“That’s correct. In fact, I was rejected during my mating ceremony.”

The female judge looked like I’d just slapped her. “At the ceremony? My gods,” she gasped.

Jurion looked at his cohort. “You know, it could be a huge change of pace and a nice hook if we had someone who was freshly heartbroken. It also says here that she’s from the Eleventh Pack. We’ve never had an Eleventh Packer as the lead. We’ve only ever had one from that pack as a contestant—a male trying for the hand of a female lead, and he died in the first episode of season nineteen.”

They leaned toward each other and spoke in hushed tones. Even my enhanced shifter hearing couldn’t pick up on their words. There must have been a privacy spell on or around their desk. I peered into the shadows at the stranger.