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Jett steps between us with a salty growl. “Walk away, Nathan.”
“Chiiiiiill. Just saying hello to my favorite omega.”
If I were Nathan, I would back the fuck up from the menacing hitch in Jett’s snarl.
But Nathan lives in a different reality.
And since I’m Lilah, the sound is pure catnip. A glittering ribbon twirling down my spine.
“Me and a few of my boys got together to put in a bid for you. Ready any time you are, Darling.”
“Walk. Away.” Jett’s satin bark twines every one of my vertebrae, soft and tight.
I don’t think I’ve heard that bark before, and I don’t want to again. It’s much too deadly smooth.
Nathan’s smile flattens. Maybe he does sense danger. “Going, going. See you soon, Darling girl.”
“Ugh.” I want to scrape out my ears. “How can they be related?”
“Why do you know him?” When Jett watches Nathan leave, I don’t have to imagine where he got his “reputation.” That look is so chilling, I can almost see the bloodred numbers of his body count painted on his forehead.
“He came to my first social. Not a fan. Why?”
“Stay away from him.”
“Planning on it.”
Him and every other male in this godforsaken compound.
Jett leads me into the office suite, and a file storage room full of paper Redfang records. While he loads boxes onto a handcart to haul back, I crack open a lid and flip through.
The box is filled with receipts and invoices. Shipping manifests and a mess of loose papers choked with numbers that make my heart sing.
Want me to stay away from Nathan?
I’ll one up you.
I’ll never talk to anyone again.
Give me twenty boxes of raw data, a padlock on my bedroom door, and one night without a heat spike, and I’ll finally be a happy girl.
Just have to ignore the whisper growing inside from the same cursed place that has me watching Jett’s shirt tighten across his toned back every time he lifts a box.
Just have to ignore the more and more undeniable reality.
Wyverns are my favorite kind of poison.
TWENTY-EIGHT
ORION
I spend the day unpacking for Lilah, carefully tucking away every little thing that belongs to her in what I already consider our home.
Every time she touches me, looks at me, fuck, probably every time she thinks of me, it burns off another wisp of the toxic smoke that’s been fucking with my head for so long I forgot who I even am.
She’s the purpose I was missing, and the reminder I needed that I don’t have to earn Wyvern Pack’s approval.
I’m the omega.
