I move to close the distance and swing—to show these alpha dicks that an omega raised in Boston doesn’t need anyone toprotect her—but Grace holds me back. Charlton Pack laughs in my face and then retreats. They’re gone from sight before Charlotte can calm me down.
“It’s okay, Grace,” she says.
I level her with a glare. “It’s not. You should call the police and get a restraining order.”
Charlotte nods. “You’re right.”
I pull her in and hug her tight. “You can stay at my place again, okay? And I can go with you to the police if you want.”
“I’ll handle it,” Charlotte says. “They’re not my alphas, but they’ve been my problem for years.”
“But not anymore, right?” I’ll make sure she gets that order. Charlton Pack doesn’t own Charlotte. No alpha simply owns an omega because of a scent-match alone. No matter how much they may want to.
Charlotte nods. “Not anymore. Come on, let’s get to the arena and start practicing.”
She moves first. I watch her go, see the way she squares her shoulders and jaw. I recognize the compartmentalization when I see it.
But I won’t let Charlotte run from this. We’ll deal with Charlton Pack together.
CHAPTER 22
CONNOR
The echo of applause still pulses through my eardrums as I make my way out of Reverie Arena. The familiar hiss and click of the Zamboni echoes somewhere behind the stands, smoothing over the jagged edges left by a hundred blades. Out in the lobby, kids buzz past in glittery leotards, chattering in high-octane voices about the show. I can’t help but smile.
This is why I skate: the thrill of a show well performed and the inspiration—or at least entertainment—it gives to others.
My phone vibrates against my hip. Three quick messages all from Grace. I’m learning she’s a one-woman notification disaster, but one I really enjoy.
Grace:“If I bring enough pizza for the whole pack can we all hang out? Assuming you’re going to Zev and Fowler’s tonight after the show. If not, can we?”
I start to type back, then delete. I know she’s lurking just inside the staff exit, right where the corridor opens onto the parking lot. No matter how I pace my steps, we always seem to intercept each other as if fate can’t give us a chance to exist on our own without interference.
Grace had left the dressing room post-show in the first group of people. I had taken my time tonight as a month and a half ofshows has really tired me out. But she’s already back with two entire pizza boxes in her arms.
I grin when I see her. “Looks like you decided for us.”
Grace grins right back at me. “Don’t think it’s possible for your pack to turn down pizza, that much I remember.”
She says it like we properly dated before rejecting her rather than having a few dates that first week of prep camp before burning any connection down. At least that seems behind us now.
“You’d be correct. Here, let me take those.” I grab the pizzas from her. “I can drive us?”
“Sure!”
We walk in companionable silence to my car. I pop the pizzas onto the roof so I can open the passenger door for her. Grace slides in, and I prop the pizza boxes on her knees. As soon as I’m in and the radio’s on, Grace starts humming along to the music playing. I don’t quite understand how she has so much energy after not just tonight but so many weeks back-to-back.
We take off toward Zev and Fowler’s place.
Zev’s caris already in the driveway when we get to the house. He’s standing on the porch, posture radiating chill even though his scent—deep, bittersweet chocolate—hits me from ten yards away. He’s wearing a faded T-shirt and loose shorts, and has an ice pack taped to his knee, which means the high schoolers played dirty again.
“Behold!” Grace announces, sweeping the pizza boxes in a dramatic arc. “We bring offerings from the outside world.”
Zev grins wide. “Hail, delivery queen.” He snags the boxes from me and pops it open right there on the porch, inhaling like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. “Damn, it’s still hot. Come on in.”
We follow into the house, past the kitchen and on into the living room where Fowler’s been laid up for a while now. A gaming controller sits on the couch beside him along with several pillows and sports drinks.
He looks up when we enter. “Now this is the excitement I keep telling Zev we need here.” He waves a hand dismissively toward me. “Ever since Connor moved out to ‘stay with his castmates during Reverie’ it’s been so quiet.”
