Page 74 of The Rogues

“I could come with you instead,” I offer, but he shakes his head.

“No, you should spend some time with your other mates. I’ll probably try to get some sleep anyway, so there’s no use in you keeping me company if I’m just going to zonk out,” he informs me, the anxiety falling away as a small grin adorns his lips.

“I’d keep you company even if someone paid me not to,” I try to joke, but his smile lifts higher.

“Careful, little vicious. If my alpha hears that, he’ll want to claim you.”

I breathe in sharply at the playful remark, biting my lip to keep the train of thought that just entered my mind from coming out. From the way my omega stirs in my chest with excitement, that sounds exactly like what she and I need, and—if he asked—I would lengthen my neck for him right here and now and let him have his way with me.

Even the idea of him claiming me leaves all sorts of warm feelings spreading through my body, ones that don’t have any outlet except turning my skin a subtle crimson. Thankfully, it’s difficult to spot from the dark sky around us.

“I’ll see you soon, Josie,” Lennon says, touching my arm in a soft caress before walking to the other van and hopping in. His scent is more ginger than beer as it sits on my skin, absorbed by the greedy omega in my chest. The gesture was subtle, and I’m grateful as I grin at the concept of his scent being on me for the remainder of the night.

I turn back to Cyrus, who is pointing over his shoulder toward the van that Lennon just got into.

“There aren’t enough seats in this van, so Remi and I will ride with Lennon and meet back up with you guys in a bit.”

I go to confirm the statement with a nod when a soft touch brings me back to my body. Cyrus’s lips only linger for a small moment, but the effects are lasting as I feel the kiss burning on my cheek, heat rising to my skin where his scent got left behind. I look up at him with widened eyes, but there isn’t a single ounce of regret reflected in his.

He gives me a small smile, an apology for the stolen kiss, but I’m not mad at him one bit. Despite the little bit of anxiety that someone in the car might have noticed, I am glad that he took the step. Now, his scent is also on me, satiating my omega even more since we’re about to be separated. He must know because he lets a chuckle escape at my expression.

“Enjoy yourself while we’re gone,” he whispers, all alpha.

When I get in the van, all the girls are in a heated debate with Malaki about the best kind of clubs. Even Cleo is getting riled up, not immune to Malaki’s playful charm. I heave a sigh, grateful that she wasn’t paying attention to Cyrus and me outside as I click my seatbelt into place.

Scratch what I thought earlier. This is going to be a long night.

The club that gets chosen is actually really chill. The lights that I usually find distracting and overstimulating are more tame and spread out, and the music is a good mix of feel-good and dance-central. Like always, we pay to get into the VIP section so we can have some semblance of privacy while also enjoying our time among the locals.

Luckily, everyone we come into contact with is nice and respectful, but of course they are. We’re in Canada.

“I’ll be right back!” Cleo screams over the music as she gets up and makes her way out of our section. My eyes trail after her for only a moment before Florence, Malaki, and Nicola burst out laughing, distracting me with their glee.

I look over to them all looking at Florence’s phone. “What happened?”

Jamie leans closer. “Probably showing them what she did to her ex. Revenge that ended up online.”

“How did it end up online? Because she’s Cyrus’s sister?”

Jamie arches a brow in my direction, curiosity etched into his features. “You don’t know who the Darlingtons are, do you?”

“Cyrus’s family? I mean, obviously. I’ve never met them.”

Jamie’s smile is anything but patronizing, but it does let his amusement peek through nonetheless. “Cyrus comes from a noble family.”

Now it’s my turn to lift a brow. “Like, dukes and barons?”

Shit, the only thing I know about nobility is from binge-watching Bridgerton.

He chuckles. “Exactly, but I’m not sure what you’d call them specifically. Cyrus’s dad still likes to be considered an aristocrat, but it’s his family history that gives them notoriety more than anything.”

“Oh, okay. So, they’re famous in England, then?”

“Kind of. They’re remembered for their famous ancestors, so they still hold a lot of influence. They inherited prestige and riches from it, but it’s really just an outdated concept.”

I bite my lip, thinking about the blue-eyed alpha. “He didn’t want to be a part of it.”

It’s not a question, because I know. Cyrus is bold, rebellious, and playful; I can’t see him trying to fit into some kind of mold set by some tradition by ancestors he never met.