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She doesn’t say a word.
Smart when she doesn’t know me or what my intentions might be. But that doesn’t mean I like it. She’s our omega. I want nothing more than to protect her. Keep her safe. Make her smile. It hurts that she’s lumped me in the same category as Lawrence.
So how to move myself out of that category and into a new one?
And then I have it.
I lift my wrist, flashing her my watch. “Do you want to know why I wear a fake Rolex?”
Her eyes snag on my wrist, and her expression subtly shifts. Her face scrunches as she thinks through why that might be before she asks, “Why do you wear a fake Rolex?”
I lower my arm. “If you give me a surname, I’ll tell you why.”
She studies me for a little longer, chewing her lip with tiny white teeth. Considering it.
It’s an innocent action that shouldn’t be so arousing, but the impact hits me like a freight train. I want to hold her, bite her, mark her as mine. But that’s not all I want. I want to know what those teeth feel like grazing my cock.
“What else can you do with a name?” she asks, cocking her head. It exposes her throat and the faint mating bite that doesn’t belong there. She isnothis. She is ours. I want to kill the man who put that mark there, but I want to quiet the fear she’s trying to hide from me even more.
“What thing would you want me to do?” I ask.
She hesitates for so long, I wait, hoping she won’t change her mind about telling me. “Can you find someone?”
It’s like someone smashed their fist into my gut. With knuckle-dusters.
I stare at her, wrestling with my anger. And my envy. Everleigh suddenly appeared as Lawrence’s omega. No one had seen her before then. Now I ask myself where she came from. Andwhoshe came from.
I make my expression blank. “A lover?”
Maybe it wasn’t only a mother who sold her but a lover who betrayed her.
She hesitates, visibly reluctant to tell me.
I hold my breath, waiting for an answer I don’t truly want to know.
What if there’s someone out there in the world she loves? A guy she would choose over us even if she knew we were her scent matches. What then?
“A sister,” she whispers.
Thank fuck.
“You want me to find your sister?”
“Can you?” she asks quickly. The words burst out of her, her eyes bright and eager. She quickly masks her excitement. Too late. I’ve already seen it. “But I don’t want you to tell her that I’m the one looking for her. Not at first. Not until I know…”
She thinks her sister betrayed her. And yet she still wants to find her.
What hell did you come from, Everleigh?
I nod slowly. “I can do that. But first…”
“You need a name,” she murmurs.
There are more secrets in her beautiful pale green eyes, more truths she’s holding back. I intend to convince her she can trust me with more than her secrets. She can trust me not to hurt her.
“Jackson,” she eventually says. Clearing her throat, she focuses on the wall beside my head. “Before I was Everleigh Wentworth, I was Everleigh Jackson. My mom was Anna Jackson. And my little sister, Dellaney. She might not be my real sister, and the woman who raised me might not be my real mom.”
I cock my head. “And yet you still want to find her?”
