Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
This is it.
Next to me, Icarus checks the front of his trousers, before smoothing his hand over his hair. He can’t do anything about how kiss swollen his lips are.
He turns to me, tidying my hair back into the ribbon.
We both look like smart, respectable members of staff again and not like we were wildly fucking in the elevator only moments ago.
Of course, I know that my torn panties are still in my Alpha’s pocket. He gave me an unapologetic smirk as he took them, before yanking up my pants.
It makes me shiver to think of Icarus sleeping with my slick coated panties because he needs my scent, as much as I need his.
I just hope that I don’t soak through my pants now without them.
This room is one of the presidential suites. The guests must be both wealthy and influential.
I can’t fuck this up.
Icarus tightens his tie, before straightening his shoulders. “It’ll be all right. I’m with you. I won’t leave you if I think that you’re in any danger. I’ll assess this pack and—”
I knock on the door to stop Icarus from spiraling. He is more wound up than I am.
It’s his Alpha instincts. He’s already rubbed his scent all over me. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t tear this new pack apart.
Icarus raises his eyebrow at me, but I shrug unapologetically.
My heart beats faster.
Silence.
I’m quivering with anxiety.
Then an English voice drawls, “Just come on in, mate.”
My eyes widen.
Wait, isn’t that…?
“Stay behind me.” Icarus opens the door with his door key. “Let me do the talking.”
“But—”
“I mean it,” Icarus insists. “Let me protect you.”
He sharply pushes open the door.
I trail behind him in his shadow.
“Hold on, I didn’t order a sexy Alpha. Or did I? I did get pretty pissed last night. Although, do I get a free Alpha thrown in with my Omega? Because I am bloody okay with that,” a flirty voice teases with a laugh. “Especially if it it’s you, big boy.”
“You…?” Icarus exclaims, before managing to get himself back under control with a struggle.
It is Immortal.
Joy and relief rush through me.
“If you want, sir.” Icarus’ voice is now suffused with a chilly civility that could freeze anyone’s balls. “But I am the hotel’s general manager and no longer Santa. Sitting on my lap, no matter if you’re a good boy, will cost extra. You are receiving a special service.”
“Aren’t I the lucky bastard?”
“If you say so, sir.”
“I like you. In fact, you can stay as long as you want. Hey, can you take all these flowers and muffin baskets, which other guests keep sending me in hopes that it will open my pants, down to the staff quarters? Make sure that they get fairly shared with the Omegas as well, yeah?”
Icarus’ shoulders rise in surprise.
His voice softens. “Of course, sir.”
“And stop calling me sir. It’s making me feel like some kind of entitled prick.”
“The type of entitled prick who chooses Omegas out of a catalog and orders them to your room, sir?”
I elbow Icarus gently in the back.
Does he have a Maya sized death wish?
Also, Immortal saved us both only last night on the stage.
Immortal gives an uncomfortable chuckle. “Does it help that I didn’t choose her out of a catalog but more fell for you both last night? Or that I’m as much staff as you are? I’m singing for my supper in this place, mate. I’m a performer. My pack aren’t really the same as the other guests.”
I squeeze past Icarus and stumble into the hotel room.
The presidential suite is blindingly luxurious.
The walls and carpet are deep rose. The ceiling is lit by a vast, circular chandelier that shines light onto a glittering circular gold rug. The walls are hung with art of shadow birds in flight, which are painted by a local Omega artist, Leo Knight.
Dad is in charge of furnishing the hotel because Maya believes that things like that are Omega skills. I love that Dad has managed to undermine Maya by supporting a talented Omega artist.
Golden couches ring a gleaming mahogany coffee table that overflows with roses, beer bottles, and empty pizza boxes.
I wrinkle my nose.
A vast Steinway piano stands in the corner of the suite, and several guitars are propped next to it. A number of doors lead off from the room to bedrooms, a bathroom, and a study.
Floor to ceiling windows look out over a wooden terrace, spectacular oval pool, and the breathtaking backdrop of the mountains.
“Omega elf!” Immortal is sprawling on a gold couch like a Beta king in nothing but a long, diaphanous dressing gown that sparkles with stars.
Somehow like this, with his long black hair loose around him and without his armor of clothes, he looks even more beautiful.
He sits up with a grin when he sees me, and his dressing gown falls open to reveal his chest. I blush.
“Surprised to see me? I’m glad that you didn’t turn into a pumpkin. ”
I want to be cross but instead, I can’t help returning Immortal’s smile. “There are other ways to ask someone on a date.”
“Are there? But then, how could I do this?” Immortal grabs up my abandoned elf boot dramatically from the side of the couch like he is Prince Charming. Then he pats his lap. “We need to make sure that it fits.”
This feels like a fairytale, and I’d been certain that it had ended last night.
If I must spend my Christmas with a guest pack, then being with Immortal is better than anything that I could have dreamed, especially as he’s interested in my Alpha as well.
And my Alpha is interested in him.
Icarus may be wearing his stern face, but he can’t hide that he is as entranced by this bratty Beta rock star as I am.
Icarus crosses his arms.
My heart is light, as I stroll over to Immortal and throw myself onto his knee. It feels good to be open with affection like this, when I have spent so long having to hide.
When he tilts his head in invitation, I lick up the Beta’s neck happily.
I relish his delicious scent of rich banana pudding. It is sweet but with a wicked creaminess that makes me want to lick every inch of him to keep tasting it.
Immortal looks delighted, running his elegant fingers down my leg, before delicately pulling off my shoe.
Then he holds up the elf boot with the same level of ceremony as if it truly is a glass slipper. He slips it onto my foot, stroking along the arch of my foot, making my skin tingle.
He flicks the bell and makes it jingle.
It feels like he is weaving magic over me, claiming me, through the ritual.
“There,” Immortal murmurs, “it fits. You’re my Omega.”
“She is my Omega,” Icarus growls, taking a step forward.
Immortal only looks up at him with a smirk. “As if I couldn’t tell that. She smells of you like you rubbed yourself all over her or… Wait, did you fuck her on the way up here? You did, didn’t you? You bloody legend.”
Icarus stares at the Beta like he has no idea who he is. “You cuss.”
“Funny that.”
“Where’s your Alpha?”
Icarus hesitates, and suddenly, nerves make me ball my hands.
I had almost forgotten that Immortal came with a pack attached.
“He’s working in his study,” Immortal replies. “He does that a lot. In fact, the muppet doesn’t know when to stop. He sleeps at his desk most nights.”
I roll my eyes. “The curse of being a billionaire.”
Icarus shakes his head. “His dad was a bastard who punished him if every file wasn’t finished on time. So, habit or trauma, yeah?”
I bite my lip. “Sorry.”
“Not your fault, love. Just give him a chance. He’ll love you, although he hates me a lot of the time. Personality clash, yeah? He thinks that I’m a bit of a car crash waiting to happen. No idea why.”
I hide my smile.
He’s a car crash but in the best way.
“I’m feeling connected to your Alpha already.” Icarus’ eyes narrow, as he studies the state of the room. “Have you been drinking this early in the morning? Eating cold pizza for breakfast?”
“Do you want some?” Immortal leans forward and snatches up a slice of cold pepperoni pizza. He holds it up like there is a chance in hell that he may actually hand feed my Alpha. I giggle at the image. Immortal wiggles the pizza, encouragingly. “It’s bloody good.”
When Icarus shakes his head, Immortal shrugs, before offering the pizza to me.
I feel happy and fuzzy like I always do when someone hand feeds me. I also haven’t had pizza for three years. So, cold or not, I munch happily on the slice.
Immortal smiles. “There you go, love. Told you that it was good.”
“Someone needs to take you in hand.” Icarus tilts his head.
“Many have tried. Many have failed.”
Icarus’ smile is dangerous, as he prowls forward and leans over the Beta. “Lucky that my name isn’t many then.”
Immortal shouldn’t challenge my Alpha. He doesn’t know that not only is Icarus a brat tamer, but he can handle a pack that is one hundred strong.
He can manage me.
Yet I’m confused.
Immortal is nothing like his image of the good Beta. He’s the swaggering bad boy opposite, in fact.
“Ehm, about that.” Immortal appears to be finding it hard to breathe, when Icarus does no more than reaches out and touches him lightly under the chin.
He swallows. “My name isn’t Immortal. I mean, that’s the name the bastards who more or less owned and raised me in the Idols’ training camp forced me to be called.
My real name is Zero. I don’t let everyone know that but, you know, I’d prefer you to see me and not the fake singer identity that I’ve needed to live by for a decade.
So, if you are interested in getting to know me, then this Beta cusses, drinks beer, and is kinky as fuck.
Sorry, I’m not a good Beta, if that’s what you’re looking for. ”
Icarus grips the Beta’s chin more harshly. “What makes you think that I am a good Alpha?”
Immortal’s — Zero’s — eyes widen.
I nuzzle against him. “Or that I’m a good Omega?”
“I am both scared and turned on right now,” Zero whispers.
“Perfect.” Icarus turns Zero’s head, until the Beta is facing me.
I lean in on cue and lightly kiss Zero. I slip my hand inside his dressing gown, caressing down his cool chest.