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My head lulls back as I relax, the city lights blurring out the stars. I miss them sometimes, while we are in the city. But the country house reminds me of her. The omega I thought I loved and who I thought loved me in return. Sidney. Even the thought of her name sends a pang of regret through me. The betrayal still felt fresh, even though it happened over ten years ago.
I finish my drink, setting the tumbler on the end table before closing my eyes as I attempt to forget the haunting memories of a girl that cared more about money than pack, than me. I had been a stepping stone for her in her climb to the top. A minor fish in the sea of hunters. Young and stupid.
* * *
Light blindsme as it rises over the horizon. I blink blearily, squinting against the cheerful sun. My blazer is wrinkled from a night sleeping in the armchair, and my shoes are still on. Stretching out my sore muscles, I meet Audrey’s defiant gaze. So that is how this is going to go.
“You said six.”
I glance at my watch. Six-thirty. A yawn works through my jaw, and I shrug. “Six, six-thirty, same thing, right?”
She crosses her arms and glares. It is then I notice she is wearing her old clothes. The ratty hoodie sleeves pulled over her fingers.
“You need to change. You are not wearing that.”
She glances down, her brow furrowing. “These are my clothes.”
“I’m not taking a street urchin to breakfast at The Clocktower.”
Her eyes go wide, and she flushes in embarrassment. “The Clocktower?” A swallow works her delicate throat as she looks back down at her old rags.
“Yes, I bought you clothing appropriate for my omega, and you will wear it when you are out with me. I would prefer you to wear it at all times. We can burn that.”
Her fingers curl over the ends of the sleeves of the hoodie, and I know I’ve misstepped before she says a word.
“You are not touching my things. This might be your apartment, but this is mine. I will murder you in your sleep if you damage even a single thread of this shirt.”
I chuckle at the threat, and she glares at me. “Get changed,” I order.
“I don’t think I will. I guess you’re taking a street urchin to breakfast. Call it charity work. The press will have a field day.”
Grinding my molars together, I stand up and close the distance between us. I lean forward and grip her chin between my fingers. She lets out a little squeak, and I almost ease the pressure on her skin.
“I said, get changed,” I say threateningly.
Green fire is shot at me from her eyes, and if looks could kill, I’d be dead. I drop my hand and straighten.
“You have until I’m ready to be presentable.” I stalk away to my bedroom, passing a bleary eyed Saint on my way. The satisfying slamming of my door between us eases some of my anger. She presses my buttons in a way no one has in a long time.
Showering and dressing in one of my suits, I exit the bedroom in a slightly better mood that sours as soon as I catch sight of Audrey. Her legs curled beneath her, a book open on her lap, still in the same clothing. Felix and Saint sit in the armchairs while she is in the sofa's corner.
“You aren’t dressed.”
“I am.”
She doesn’t even look up, and a growl rumbles in my chest, low and threatening. “I told you to get changed.”
“And I decided that free willwasa thing, and I might be youromegaoutside these walls, but in here, I’m my own person.” She folds the book in her lap and lifts her gaze to me as she basically tells me to get bent with her expressive eyes.
My ears ring and rage makes me feel hot. Before I even know what I’m doing, I’m scooping her up from her comfortable seat and stalking into her room. Once in her closet, I deposit her on the bench in the middle and turn to survey the clothing. Snapping a yellow dress that would look good with her skin off the rack, I turn back toward the stunned omega with a threatening smile.
“If you won’t get dressed, I’ll help you.”
I know I’m crossing some lines here, but I can’t stop myself as I tear her hoodie off of her small body. Revealing a pale lacey bra that is almost the same color of her skin. I pause, taking her in. She needs to eat. I can see her ribs. That’s the first order of business: getting some food in her. She attempts to snag her hoodie back, and I toss it away from us both before I dress her like a rag doll as she releases a growl low in her throat that would rival one of mine.
Stalking across the closet, I pick up her hoodie and ball it up in my arms and say, “You can have this back after you behave at breakfast.”
Her perfume in the air is at odds with the scowl painted on her face, and I know I need to put some distance between us before my hard earned contract is broken.
