Chapter 5 #2
And apparently their new Don, some snot-nosed brat named Logan, was throwing a tantrum big enough that half his ranks were prowling the city just to avoid his line of sight.
Marco’s voice crackled through the line.
“Reports say the guy’s tearing up his office. Screaming about something missing. No one knows what. Thought you should know.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
Great.
Without a proper mole inside their ranks, it was impossible to tell why the little shit was losing his mind. All we knew was that he was pissed enough to put three men in the hospital already.
“Keep eyes on him,” I muttered. “And find out what he lost.”
“On it,” Marco promised before the line went dead.
I dragged a hand over my face and pressed my back against the wall. Of course, this was happening on the exact night we’d picked up a half-dead omega off the side of the road.
Fucking typical.
Pushing a thumb to my temple, I tried to figure out just how long I could leave without stressing out the rest of my pack. But, before I could come up with a concrete plan, I noticed someone staring at me from the corner of my periphery.
I turned my head just a fraction, and there she was, half-hidden behind the living room doorframe, nothing visible but a wide eye, a sliver of cheek, and a mess of dark hair.
My sweet little omega was not only awake, but eavesdropping on a conversation that wasn’t meant for her.
Her eyes narrowed the second she realized I’d seen her, but she didn’t duck away or hide the fact that she’d been staring at me. Skye said something about broken glasses, so I chose to believe she was squinting to see me and not glaring.
Afterall, sweet, silent Violet was five foot nothing and maybe ninety pounds, if I was being generous. It wouldn’t be wise for her to test me, and she seemed like a smart girl.
“Morning, Sweetheart,” I rasped. “You hungry? I know you skipped dinner.”
Her stomach rumbling was the only answer I needed. Violet jolted at the sound.
Cute.
“Come on, let’s get you fed.” I headed toward her, but the second I tried to drape an arm around her, she pushed me off.
For a second, I was offended, then I realized the poor thing could barely stand on her own; she didn’t need the weight of my arm slowing her down, so I did what any self-respecting alpha would do, and picked her up.
Her eyes flew wide, and her head fell to my shoulder as if she’d lost a battle with gravity. Stress and heat and whatever the hell she’d been through had taken their toll on her, and I needed to get meat on her bones before our baby even thought about sticking.
Her little fingers gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white as she tried to steady herself.
I opened the fridge, grabbed the bottle of green sludge Skye insisted was better than any prenatal vitamin, and poured it into a glass before passing it off to Violet.
“Drink it, and I’ll make you whatever you want to eat,” I promised before pausing. What did she like to eat?
She stared up at me over the rim of the glass, and then I remembered she was mute, which meant she couldn’t tell me even if she wanted.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, unlocked it, opened the notes app, and handed it to her.
“Type what you want, we’ll worry about learning sign language or something tomorrow.”
She looked between the phone and the juice for a moment. Slowly, she brought her glass to her nose, sniffed it once, and took a sip.
She winced and then put it down before grabbing the phone and typing: Food first, please.
“Juice first, it’s good for you.”
It tastes bad.
I looked at the screen, and then at her.
“You know,” I muttered, crossing my arms, “most omegas in your condition would just drink it and behave.”
She held up the phone again.
I’m not most omegas.
I slid the glass back to her.
“Two more sips, I make whatever you want, deal?”
Her brow lowered before she furiously typed one last message.
And after a moment, she handed my phone back and crossed her arms.
ONE SIP. I want toast with honey. Please and thank you.
“Two sips,” I countered automatically.
Her eyes narrowed into pissed-off little slits, and she tapped the part where she’d typed Please and thank you.
“Do you think being polite is going to get you your way?”
Without hesitation, she nodded.
This tiny menace actually believed she could negotiate with me. And, she wasn’t exactly wrong.
“Fine,” I muttered. “One sip. But don’t get used to it.”
Violet gave me a small smile and grabbed the glass before taking the world’s most dramatic sip and putting the cup down with a dainty tap. She then beckoned me closer with one finger.
I humored her, and she rewarded me with a kiss on the cheek.
It was barely a brush of her lips, but I felt it everywhere.
My hands bracketed her thighs on the counter, holding me steady while my brain short-circuited. Her smile brightened, and she grabbed the phone before reminding me that she wanted her toast and honey, and now she wanted fruit too.
And, she was going to get whatever she wanted, and maybe that was her plan all along. I didn’t really mind either way.
Violet was a little sweetheart, which meant I had nothing to lose by just giving her what she wanted.