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“No way. This is the greatest.” Kipp bounces, absorbing the mercenary ambiance like a kid at combat camp. But his happy expression morphs into a mask when he looks over my shoulder.
Finn?
I peek back.
Not Finn.
Jett.
He stands in the shadows of the bleacher seating, black clothes, black hair, black eyes.
He is the shadow.
No one else notices him, but people make a space like they’re walking past a ghost.
I’m not at the point where I want to give the guy a hug, but you know what I do know?
Jett’s waiting for me in those shadows.
One word, one touch I don’t like, and he’ll stomp throats.
My favorite kind of promise.
Cale steps in to smooth over Kipp’s freeze. “Glad to see you as well, Orion.” He glances between us, mellow until he spots Orion’s neck bandage.
Wonder if the doctor knows what we did?
“Good to see you too?” Orion answers, polite but equally wise to this bullshit development, shooting me an amused brow raise.
“It should be starting soon.” Rhett offers his arm. “Join us at our seats?”
“Sure.” I gingerly rest fingers on his forearm.
Rhett’s dominance is there, it just doesn’t do anything for me. Not a shiver, not a shudder, not a smile.
I’m much more interested in Orion, who trails behind us as Cale tries to chat him up. His answer gets drowned by the rising volume of the packed crowd, but I can read Orion’s expression: Is this guy serious?
It’s supposed to be my date.
Not their chance to steal my omega.
When we reach their box at the top level, Rhett steers me into my seat. His hand slips to my lower back, but he flinches when his fingers hit metal. “You’re armed?”
“Always.”
“Ah…” He adjusts his glasses.
“You don’t carry a weapon?”
“I’ve never thought of it,” he admits. “Never seemed necessary.”
I seriously wonder what it’s like to get to just be, never for a second worrying about being attacked.
Can’t imagine.
Orion slips into the seat next to me, and Cale grabs the one next to him. The box is so high up, we have a perfect view down to the mesh-walled octagon and the stands.
The Sorensens don’t stand out as much as I feared. Most of the crowd’s from Wyvern House, a sea of jacked alphas in black T-shirts, but I spot families, kids, couples, and women on the prowl. Even a bunch of omegas in tight dresses who might actually be strippers.
