19. Red
Chapter nineteen
Red
I stand frozen in place, staring at Callisto as he walks away. His wide shoulders, snug inside the tailored suit jacket, sway back and forth as he jogs up the stairs and disappears into the cavernous doors of the old building, leaving me huddling on the puddle of grass.
He left. He’s sorry.
Huh?
My pulse flutters weakly. For agonizing year after agonizing year, the only thing sustaining me in that trafficking hellhole was imagining the first meeting with my alphas. In all the scenarios I ever pictured, never in a million years could I have dreamed one would turn their back on me. It stings more than I can put into words. But the worst part is the hum inside my brain comes back in full force the moment Callisto moves out of sight.
A hiccup jerks my body, and then I can’t breathe at all.
So, he’s too busy with his job for me? I cover my mouth with my hands. Maybe I’d have preferred him to be a wretched criminal, so evil his betrayal was second nature. But he’s a regular guy, someone supposed to fight evil. He just . . . doesn’t want me.
My thoughts sputter, like a flame running out of fuel. Why? Since when is being soulmates an idle pastime? It’s not; it’s life or death. It’s . . . everything. Or so I thought.
Moving slowly, like I’m caught in a trance, I trail up the wide stone steps after him, chasing an afterimage still burning in my vision. My body trembles with the lingering effect of his scent and the phantom heat of lips against mine. Did I imagine him as well? Is this all a cruel nightmare? Maybe I never escaped the House of Bitches after all.
I trot up the stairs, needing to be sure.
Just in time, I slip inside the courtroom doors as the judge brings the court into session. “Thank you for finally joining us, Counselor Wren.”
“My apologies, Your Honor.”
A sigh escapes me at the sound of that cultured voice, and the way the judge tips his head in acknowledgment. I pinch myself hard over the number penned on my skin, then wince as pain explodes in my arm.
My alpha is as real as I am. But he’s not mine?
I collapse into the back row as the man beside the judge’s enormous desk reads out the name of the case and the trial begins. The details slide past my ears like whispery water currents because all I care about is the alpha dressed in gray with his back to me.
He exudes confidence, not only with his polished words but with every inch of his body as he plants himself, posture effortlessly perfect. He sweeps one hand and his inflections rise and fall as he portrays doubt and disgust about the person on trial. The delivery makes me want to believe his words. Me and every other person in the room.
And yet he’s the least believable alpha in existence.
He strikes me as strangely hollow, in fact, but perhaps that’s because I’m the only one privy to his faint presence in my head.
Fascinating. And so painfully cruel.
I shake myself free of the trance with a scoff under my breath and a toss of my hair. If I stay here, it might destroy me. I didn’t expect this scenario, but it shouldn’t be a surprise. When has fate ever been straightforward with me?
My feet ache as much as my heart as I slip out the door and retrace my steps. I’ve been on the go all morning, including running from Samantha, who hopefully got lost in an airport by now.
It’s time to get my career in order. That’s the same choice the alpha made, isn’t it? His career over his omega. Well, fuck him. Fuck them all. So what if no soul mates come to my rescue? So what if I am crazy for hearing voices in my head? I bury the pain deep in my soul with all the other bullshit.
I’m Red Hawk, the greatest survivor on this damn planet. I don’t need anyone.
The thought buoys me as I dodge crowds along the sidewalk and cross at the traffic lights a block away. MoonMugs dominates a street corner, the famous pattern of crescent moons on forest green visible half a mile away. As I stalk to the entrance on the main road, the tinting on the windows blurs the reflections of the diners inside. A nice privacy touch with hundreds of people streaming past.
The aroma of coffee beans, soy milk, and sugar washes over me as I step inside and I pause, breathing it in. Then I stiffen. At a booth next to the window in the corner sits a man with platinum blond hair swept playfully to one side and my stomach swoops as I recognize him. I thought the name sounded familiar on Callisto’s lips, but I didn’t put two and two together.
There, waiting for me, sits the stunning film manager I saw in the online article about actress Lyra Gray.
Oh, baby, I’m stealing this man if it’s the last thing I do.
I flick my hair and straighten up as I stalk forward, my world narrowing to this one man. “Hello. Are you the film manager I’m meeting?”
He glances up. “Yes, if Callisto sent you—?” He stops mid-sentence to stare at me.
Two things register and the first is he’s so beautiful it’s breathtaking. Like, Callisto is handsome in the expected way, broad, confident, and tall, but the alpha before me is one-in-a-million unique, with pale skin, curving brows, and lips that naturally pout like a damn fashion model.
Second, another voice in my head shuts off. The fragrance flowing off him smells subtle, but so addictive I swallow down my pooling saliva. I’m fucking drooling over this man. Today’s a roller coaster, for sure.
“Well, this is unexpected,” I murmur. I was wrong. I do need an alpha, this alpha.
Instead of taking the seat opposite him, I slide the table back and straddle him, positioning around his legs with my knees on the bench seat. Every instinct demands I be as close as possible to this man. Even more because I’m raw from rejection.
I might die of grief if he turns his back on me too.
The slender man rumbles softly as I drop my nose into the curve of his neck and breathe deeply. My body lights up like a firecracker ready to explode. Vanilla perfection. Thin and a little buttery, like his pale complexion and cream sweater.
“Hello.” I rest my hand against his smooth cheek. “You can call me Red. I’m an actress, I’m certified crazy, and from today on, you’re my alpha.” No way am I letting another one get away.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, staring up at me with glimmering pale green eyes. Entranced. “Okay.” His arms circle my waist, and he lets out a sigh that releases a universe of weight.
And just like that, it’s done. Zero hesitation, complete acceptance. I have a mate. A shiver runs through me as something invisible but potent locks down in my soul. Not a bond, but a reality.
“Um—” My gorgeous alpha sucks in a shaky breath. “My name’s Rickon. I’m an actor’s manager, or I was—” He stutters off, a pained expression on his face, like he doesn’t know what to say.
Yeah, I’m going to have so much fun teasing apart the wonders of this sexy man. I graze my fingers along his forearms at my sides, enjoying the strength and definition there. My pussy heats.
“How do you know Callisto?” I murmur, intoxicated by his scent.
“Oh.” He brightens, like that’s a topic he knows well. “We’ve been best friends since third grade. I don’t have parents, and his folks looked after me a lot, and Callisto and I were at the same school.” His smile is even more show-stopping than his serious face and an extra gentle quality enters his tone.
I tilt my head, studying the way his whole face lights up. “And does Callisto know you’re in love with him?”
Rickon’s torso clenches with a tiny spasm and his eyes widen with alarm. “No,” he eventually whispers. “But that doesn’t change anything for me and you. I mean, I’m sorry.” He drops his gaze and sighs.
I put my fingers under his chin and tilt his head up. “Never apologize for love, my alpha.”
He quivers like that word does things to him and gazes at me with clear adoration. “You’ll be my priority. Always.”
Callisto told me not to break this man’s heart, but it seems he’s clueless he’s the one causing him pain every single day. I’ll circle back to my naughty runaway, but for now, I need to focus on this stunning, fragile man in front of me.
“Callisto’s my scent match too. We’ll be a family eventually, even if he’s late to the game.” I cross my fingers where my new alpha can’t see them.
Rickon’s luscious lips part in shock. “Truly?”
I nod. One day, after I’ve made Callisto lick my feet in apology, I’ll have him strip this alpha down and make love to him the way he’s been dreaming of for all these years. I grin and Rickon fixes his gaze hungrily on my mouth.
His thumb drifts up to stroke my jaw. “May I kiss you, Red?”
My name in his hushed voice sends a flush of wonder soaring through my chest. Unlike everyone else in my past, he’s asking for permission to touch. It’s enough to bring a girl to her knees.
“Yes. You don’t need to ask permission to kiss your omega.” He’s the one person in my life I want to touch me endlessly. I need him like I need oxygen.
He rewards me with a soft smile, full of awe, and then leans in to press those lush pale lips to mine. MoonMugs must be offering out-of-body experiences on the menu, because for a few minutes I’m transported somewhere else that’s all fire and burning suns and choirs singing as our mouths touch and taste like starving animals.
Rickon sounds rather pleased with himself as he pulls back and murmurs, “I can’t believe this is happening. And I didn’t even dress up.”
I chuckle as I scan his loose cream sweater, which looks sexy as fuck paired with his wicked black eyeliner wings. Resting my hands on his chest and playing with the knitted cording, I say, “You look gorgeous anyway.” Then I lean in for another kiss which stokes the fire of lust. We fit together so perfectly. I can’t help myself, and I grind a little into his lap, so happy and full of new emotion washing through me. I belong here.
Rickon’s happy too; his hard length grows under my thighs. He groans softly as I rock forward.
“Hello there, gorgeous omegas.” An unwelcome voice breaks through our private moment. “Can I buy you a coffee?”
“I’m an alpha,” Rickon hisses without taking his eyes off me, his hands tightening around my waist.
I eyeball the bony man leaning against the booth wall, grinning at us. With a sneer, I say, “Fuck off if you know what’s good for you.” How dare he disrespect my alpha? I’ll go full wildling on him if he doesn’t piss off immediately.
When the stranger doesn’t move right away, I add, “Leave me and my alpha alone.” I bare my teeth and swing the little stand with the table number, just to be sure he gets the picture.
The man raises his hands, eyes growing wide as he backs away. “Shit. No need for all the attitude. It’s not even attractive.”
I growl at his back, and then shift to find Rickon staring at me like I’m a creature from another world. I scoff under my breath, nearly blinded by his gorgeousness. “How the hell could anyone mistake my alpha for an omega? Fucker must have vision and scent impairment.” I click my tongue in disapproval.
My alpha laughs and the tension in his body dissolves as he pulls me into a tight embrace, the tremors in his body translating into my ribs.
“Were you scared of him?” I ask, stroking him gently.
He sighs into my collarbone. “I’m not built like most alphas, and now I have something to protect. But I‘m weak, and that’s terrifying. You, on the other hand, were fearless.”
“Hmm.” I look down at the table number in my hand, the smooth metal rod cold against my fingers. “I doubt you’re helpless.” I chuck my chin toward his leather bag tucked into the corner of the booth. “Do you have a nail file in there?” Spies always have amazing uses for ordinary-looking items.
“Of course!”
“What else?”
He drags the bag closer by its strap and pulls out a zipped folder that reminds me of a craftsman’s tool set. He hands me the metal nail file and I stroke the curved tip before placing it softly just below the end of his black eyeliner, half an inch past the corner of his eye. He freezes.
“You could take a man’s eyeball out with this.” I lean over him, supremely conscious of my bust grazing his chest. “What else?”
I grin in triumph as I find a second kit in the bag, this one for sewing and containing some dangerously sharp scissors. “This one could cut a man’s whole future bloodline from existence, if you get what I mean.” I close the lethal blades, and they make a satisfying metallic snip-snip noise.
Rickon’s eyes grow wider as he understands my implication.
I pull out a bottle of nail polish remover. “For external use only,” I read off the label, and then wink at him. “I wonder what that does to a fucker’s insides?” A tiny spasm runs through my alpha.
Something cold and hard knocks against my fingers and I draw out an oversized stone chess piece, mottled like real marble. “What the actual fuck is this skull basher?”
“It’s a keepsake from a movie I was a part of.” He smirks, fingers playing gently up and down my thighs. “And I suppose you’re armed and dangerous too?”
I grin and drag my backpack purse off, digging inside. Proudly I wave the stolen fork. “Of course.” I cock my head, admiring the glittering silver metal and extra-long tines. “Meet Fabby, the stabby fork.”
Rickon laughs and drags me back into his chest, burying his face in my neck and squeezing so tight I can barely breathe. “Where have you been all my life, Red?”
I snort. “Waiting for you to come get me.” I twist around to set the queen chess piece on the table with a clink.
He shakes his head against my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I screwed up, didn’t I?”
“Yes. I got tired of waiting, so I decided to come find you myself.” I dig my fingers into his silky white hair and tip his head back to study his face. “You’ll ruin those sexy wings if you keep rubbing your face in my clothes.”
He flashes a sly smile. “Biscuit, I want to rub more than my face on you, let me tell you.”
I smirk. “Yeah? So why don’t you?”
An intoxicating blush runs up his fair neck. “We’re in a cafe, my sweetheart.” Oh, that blush does things to me. I want to devour him, in the best way possible. Stamp my claim all over him. Make love for the first time under my own will.
I grind down into his erection and whisper into his ear. “Thrilling, isn’t it?”
His winged eyes fly wide open.