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Rylee nodded to the omega.

Jesper turned to Slade. “I mostly work on accounts and research on my computer. During Cricket’s absence, I’ll set up a work station while you recover, my liege.” He smiled. “I have access to all available alpha females. I’ll find you the perfect mate once you’re ready.”

Cricket wanted to go bitch-alpha on Jesper by biting his nose for daring to suggest a mate for the prince.

Slade looked at Cricket and smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

Ugh. Alphas! Her cheeks heated in freakin humiliation.

During their meal, Slade nodded at Rylee as she detailed the role of the LIA’s Team Greywolf. Yet, the little wolf distracted him. He should have sent her back to her quarters or at least, asked her to move to the other end of the table. The other end of the earth. Her sweet honeyed rose-like aroma overpowered the scent of the steak and other delicious food. Why had she dressed so evocatively sexy for dinner? Every time she squirmed, his wolf wanted to clasp onto her soft round rump and mount her, if only to keep her still. His.

Her blush on mention of other females confirmed how possessive she was of him. Impossible for a runt to feel this way, or was it? Only alphas and betas had strong mating emotions. He, or at least his wolf, played a risky game. His royal status, alpha strength and looks drove women to him. He’d fucked many she-wolves with gusto and pleasure, but never, ever with the raw emotions of wanting to possess any of them. Not the way he wanted this low-ranking female. He couldn’t help but watch her ruby red lips as she chewed a piece of steak. His cock thickened, imagining what her mouth would do to it.

Rylee cleared her throat. “Slade, do you agree?”

He turned to her, recalling something about being on call, no matter the time and place. “Yes, of course.”

“Good. This is something your future mate must understand and accept.” Rylee sipped her wine. “Which is why, I recommend an alpha female who might consider being part of the team, until you both decide to breed.”

Breeding sounded so unromantic. “I promise as part of…”

Cricket suddenly stood, her chair crashing to the floor.

Her eyes widened in panic, and she gripped both hands to her throat. Her mouth gaped open, and no sound escaped.

Shit! She was choking.

Before Rylee reacted, he grabbed Cricket from behind, applying the Heimlich maneuver.

She spit out a big chunk of meat and began coughing. Breathing.

Rylee was at her side. “Cricket, are you okay?”

She nodded and rasped. “Yes.”

Slade held her wrapped in his arms, supporting her as she gasped quick breaths. His nose buried in her floral shampoo scented curls.

Cricket turned and croaked, “I’m okay. You can let go.”

He didn’t want to. The sound of her heart calming reassured him. Not yet. Mine.

Dr. Warner offered her a glass. “Drink water.”

She nodded.

Slade sat, with her on his lap. She took the glass, but he held her hand so she wouldn’t spill the water and for hell’s sake, choke again.

Cricket drank and then as if she sat on a hot oven leapt off. “I’m fine.”

Slade narrowed his eyes at her. “You almost choked to death.”

“I don’t need to be coddled.” Her blue color returned to a bright red flush.

No doubt embarrassed, and yet, not showing the least bit of gratitude he just saved her life. No fucking manners. He growled. “I did not give you permission to get up.”

Despite his status, she glared at him. “You can’t…”

Rylee intervened. “Silence!”

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