Page 45 of A Murderous Omega

“They’re lovely.”

“I meant it as a compliment to you, not them.” She sipped her champagne, her expression not revealing a thing about her thoughts. “I know what happened to your first pack, darling.” She met my eyes. “I want you to know that I respect that immensely.”

My emotions went haywire—terror, pride, relief. I felt, rather than saw, my alphas’ worry through the bond.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, stiffening my spine and tilting my chin up. I was her son’s packmate—she couldn’t hurt me without hurting him. And if she wanted to hurt Conor, I’d end her.

Cordelia smiled, toothy and predatory. “You’re safe with me. I admire a woman who takes her destiny into her own hands. It’s the reason I haven’t objected to my son packing up with you. Do you think it’s possible to become a billionaire without getting blood on your hands?”

Oh, I liked this alpha. I smiled back. “Maybe billionaires shouldn’t exist in the first place. Or use omegas as bargaining chips. Or refuse to accept that their sons don’t want to follow them into the family business.”

“Perhaps,” she murmured. “But we can also be useful resources to omegas who take matters into their own hands. I may be able to provide ... resources. If you’re interested.”

“What kind of resources?”

“Information about a matchmaker who sold an orphaned omega over a decade ago, for example.”

My eyes flew to hers. “Why?”

“Because he hurt the omega my son adores, and I refuse to allow that.” She touched my arm gently.

“You’re asking me to kill him.”

“I’m offering you information. What you do with it is your choice.” She pulled out a small thumb drive. “Consider it a welcome to the family gift.”

I took it, the weight of it heavy in my palm. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. “Now let’s get back before the boys have heart attacks. They’re both hovering, trying to look casual about whatever emotions you’re sending through the bond.”

Sure enough, Conor and Emile were making absolutely terrible attempts at appearing relaxed about thirty feet away.

“They’re adorable,” Cordelia observed.

“They’re ridiculous.”

“Same thing, really.”

I rejoined my alphas, who immediately flanked me like nervous bodyguards.

“What did she say?” Conor asked.

“She likes me.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Emile muttered.

“She gave me information on the man who sold me.”

“My mother just handed you a murder file at a garden party,” Conor said faintly.

“Your mother is incredible.”

He laughed and tugged me in for a forehead kiss. I didn’t think I’d ever tire of those.

Through the bond, I felt his pride and affection and determination. We were going to take down the alpha who started my nightmare, and we were going to do it together.

“Come on,” I said, threading my fingers through theirs. “Your dads want to introduce me to someone from the sociology department.”

“Please don’t tell them you’re a murderer,” Emile said.