25. Rickon
Chapter twenty-five
Rickon
The world filters around me in fragmented shapes, arranging themselves like a mosaic. Damp sheets twisted into ropes, one corner of the underlay coming loose, and aching muscles like I’ve run a half marathon. I roll onto my back and groan. Make that a full marathon.
“Hi.”
I turn my head and blink at the beautiful red-haired woman lying beside me, the pillow dimpling around her high cheekbones.
“Red,” I murmur, maneuvering so I can stroke her cheek. “You’re real.” I catch sight of some pink smears on the sheets behind her and the last of the mosaic crashes together in a blinding flash. “Oh, shit!” I sit upright, ignoring my protesting muscles. “What happened? What did I do?” Dread claws wildly at my stomach.
She smirks. “You went into rut.” Her words drop calmly into my turmoil, and I blink at her, stunned. Rut? I’ve never rutted before. The usual alpha notions don’t really apply to me.
As if reading my mind, she hums softly. “First time, hey? I like that.”
I clap one hand over my mouth. My rut’s not important right now. “There’s blood on the sheets. Did I hurt you?” Another thought crashes over me and I gasp. “Fuck, we didn’t even use protection.”
She smiles and tugs me down to fit into her arms. “Stop panicking. It was wild and beautiful, and I’m on a contraceptive. You didn’t hurt me—it was just a lot.”
Her body heat melts my resistance, and I fold into her embrace. Sparks of memory flicker in my mind; the ways I took her over and over in every position I could think of, wringing out more orgasms than I’ve had previously combined.
I brush my thumb across her dark eye bags and bite my lower lip. “How long have we been here?”
She gestures over my shoulder at the window where bright light trickles in between the blinds to fire up her beautiful skin. “It went dark once, and then light, and you’ve slept for a few hours since dawn.”
Holy shit! I tear myself free and roll over to find my phone. Did I miss work? No, I don’t have a job anymore. I relax as I hit the on button. 12:36pm. It’s been twenty-four hours since I brought her home. My notifications show four missed calls from Callisto, but I drop the phone back on the side table and roll over to face my omega.
“I’m sorry I lost control,” I say, kissing her cheek and forehead before tasting her lips. She’s every bit as delicious as I remember. “I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you.” And what if I put her off, and she decides she doesn’t want me? My heart aches at the thought.
She chuckles huskily, her lids sagging. “I’m pretty indestructible, as far as omegas go. We’re built for a lot of sex, you know.”
I pull her into my chest, noting the tangles in her long hair and love marks covering her slim frame. I’ve really put Red through a workout. “How do I make this right?”
She taps my cheeks with a hint of reprimand, like a gentle smack. “Stop. Nothing was wrong. It was amazing, and you’re amazing.”
I hug her tightly and breathe in her honey and nut scent. It takes me a few shuddering breaths to collect my thoughts. Best to simply be honest. “I just really don’t want to screw this up. I don’t think I could bear it if I chased you away,” I whisper into her hair.
Red chuckles and squeezes me. “Babe, trust me, you’re the one more likely to be scared away. But if you’re offering to make up for my suffering—?”
I pull back to hold her at arm’s length. “Just say the word.”
She pouts so prettily I feel the urge to fuck her all over again. Seems traces of the rut hormones remain in my system. I squeeze my legs together to stifle the urge.
Red smiles sleepily. “I could use a few more hours’ sleep, and then coffee.”
“Done. And I’ll cook. What do you like?”
“Anything. Pasta sounds divine. Oh, are you gluten-free?”
I draw back to look at this sweet woman who figured out my diet just from one cafe order. “Intolerant, yeah, but I have special pasta.”
“Perfect.” She resettles her pillow until she’s comfortable, before asking, “You don’t have a job waiting?”
I shake my head and tuck strands of hair away from her face. “Nothing but you, Biscuit.”
Her lids shutter heavily as she smiles. “I love the sound of that.”
I ask if she means the pet name or the fact I’m devoting myself to her, but she hums and mutters something nonsensical, already ninety percent asleep. I stare down at her for long minutes, taking in every stunning curve and the way she pulls her legs up to sleep, before dragging myself away. The discarded comforter almost trips me, so I kick it aside and pull the spare quilt from the closet, tucking it gently around my sleeping omega.
I stare at her for long moments like an idiot before snatching up my phone and tearing myself away. The fine crust on my body tells me I need to shower before I consider doing anything else, and my mauled muscles agree. But I’m not so convinced because it means washing off her scent which coats my skin.
After a few moments of debate, the aches win out, cheered on by my mistreated ball sack hair, which catches with every step like someone’s used silicone to gel it together. I better get rid of that fluff too.
I grin and hum an old tune under my breath as I step into the shower, the words turning into a groan as my thigh muscles complain loudly. I keep fit enough with all the leg work I do through my job, but this is a new level of physical activity. To think I went into rut the moment I connected with my omega.
Losing my job made me feel like I’d hit rock bottom, but I guess it’s true that it’s darkest before the dawn. I grin and speed up my pace. My omega needs her breakfast.
Once I’m dried and dressed, achieved by tiptoeing quietly around my sleeping woman, I head to the kitchen and warm the oven before dialing Callisto.
“Hey, Calli,” I say as the line clicks on.
“Ricky, everything okay? I couldn’t reach you.”
“Yeah, all good here.” I cover a yawn and pull onions, garlic, butter, and specialty flour out of the pantry.
“What’s the banging?” he asks, sounding unusually jumpy.
“Just getting some pots out. Everything okay with you?”
“Yeah.” He pauses. “Um, about the omega?”
I tap my knife on the cutting board, hesitating. How much should I tell Callisto? And stranger still, why don’t I feel like telling him everything? A sigh whispers through me. “She’s here with me, sleeping.”
I know why I’m hesitating. Because this is my opportunity to ask him to pack up, but I’m afraid he’ll say no.
The line crackles as if he’s rubbing his face. “Oh, right. Good, good.”
My mouth dries up. “She’s my scent match, Callisto. I felt it in my soul even before she said so.”
He chokes. “Come again?”
I switch the phone to speaker and peel the onion while I wait for his clever brain to catch up.
Callisto, the perfect spokesman, stutters. “Are you s-serious, man? I mean, she told me—” He trails off, dubious.
“Yeah, she told me too. We’re both her scent matches.”
His surprised whistle makes me wish I could see his face. “Wow. What are the chances of that?”
“Who knows?” I never thought about it before, but for some reason it doesn’t surprise me. Many alpha packs form up before meeting their omega, and yet more than one turn out to be scent matches. Can’t say I’ve seen any research, but surely some kind of pack-attraction principle exists for it to happen frequently.
I pause halfway through my downstroke on the onion. Maybe me stupidly loving Callisto for all these years had a purpose. My eyes widen at the thought.
Callisto clears his throat. “Still with me, Ricky?”
“Yeah, I was just thinking.”
“You sound tired.”
My downstroke cleaves the onion with vengeance. “I am.” He knows me well enough to hear tiredness in my voice but still doesn’t realize I’m in love with him. Or am I? Does having an omega change everything? She didn’t seem worried about my feelings for Calli, but maybe I need to dedicate myself to her and forget I ever loved my best friend. Things have gotten tangled.
“I went into rut, Callisto.” Tears blur my eyes, although they’re a hundred percent the onion’s fault. I sniff and wipe my eyes on my sleeve.
“Really? Damn, man, good for you. First time?”
“Yeah.”
He laughs, and the sound squeezes my insides. “Must have been intense. I remember my first.”
I remember his first time too, mostly because I wanted to be with him so badly I caught sick. “Yeah, it was. Sorta blacked out though.” Years of habit drag the rest of my worries from me. “I actually only just woke up. I was so worried I pushed Red too far, you know? Fuck, if she left now—” I leave my sentence hanging and load the cut onions and garlic into some butter in a pan.
“Sounds like you’ve got it bad.”
I scoff. “You don’t? She’s your omega too.”
“Well—” Callisto sighs. “You know how it is. I didn’t register with the Center for a reason. I’m not ready, Ricky. Maybe after I’ve nailed down this win streak and secured partnership at the firm. Then I’d have something to offer an omega, you know? But I did give her my credit card details.” He laughs dryly. “I wrote in on her arm like a man possessed.”
I lean on the bench and swallow around a thick lump in my throat. So this is why Red looked dazed when she first walked into MoonMugs. The first alpha she met rejected her. I know he can be an insensitive asshole, but this is a whole new level of bullshit.
“Callisto, you know I’m not one to get in your business, but you’re making a mistake.” I ball my hands into fists as a hot fizz boils through my belly. “Red’s worth more than your career, and if you don’t figure that out now, it might be too late.”
I’ll put up with him prioritizing his career over me, but Red deserves better.
My heart pounds forcefully in my chest. She’s hiding something in the way she doesn’t want to talk about her past, but it must be serious if she doesn’t even know her birthday. “I don’t know exactly why, but I don’t think she wants anything from us except for fierce love and loyalty.”
He hums softly. “And an ‘in’ to a movie career?”
I’d kinda forgotten about that in all the frenzy, but as Callisto mentions it, a buoyancy bubbles up in my chest. I can do something helpful for my omega. “That’s not hard,” I reply. Water swishes loudly, drowning out sound, as I fill a pot and set it to heat on the stove. “But even if it was, I’d do it. She’s fun and forgiving and a little wild.” Heat floods my face as I recall our meeting in the cafe. Scratch that—a lot wild. “You don’t want to miss this, Calli.”
He hums reluctantly and says, “I get it. Let me think about it.”
Wrong answer. “What’s there to think about?” I snap, surprising myself by talking back. “And it’s not up to me. She’s the one who decides.” The line goes quiet, and I slump against the bench. How do I tell him not to screw this up? “I’m all in on her, Calli.”
“Yeah, I can hear that.” His cultured voice sounds so good, I suppress a groan. I need to just come out and say let’s pack up . So why am I hesitating? Maybe I’m as stupid as he is.
I clear my throat and push upright. “I gotta get this food cooked. See you soon, yeah?”
“Yeah, sure.” He’s hesitant again and I wish it was because he’s asking himself the question I can’t bring myself to ask. “Catch up soon.”
“Hope your cases go well.” I’m not sure if he hears me because the line clicks off while I’m speaking.
I shake my head, mourning his absence, even if it’s via the phone. Then I pull myself together and get on with cooking.
The onion and garlic fragrance forms a smog in the kitchen as I add a half stick of butter and then two tablespoons of flour into a separate pan and mash it together before slowly whisking in a whole carton of milk. Some frozen spinach, vegetable stock, and a generously heaped tablespoon of Italian herbs later, and my white sauce forms up. Cheese, spinach, and broccoli pasta bake should go down a treat after a busy night. I’ll throw together a salad for a fresh touch too.
I drop the flat pasta into the boiling water with some salt and olive oil, then go to pour the bacon in with the onion, stopping just before my container tilts. What if Red is a vegetarian? I forgot to ask before she fell asleep. A chuckle escapes me as I realize she probably would’ve been too tired to answer anyway.
“Good going, Rickon,” I mutter to myself. “Way to exhaust your omega on the first day.” Carefully I scrape the onion into a side bowl before heating the bacon separately. It can go on the side instead of in the pasta bake.
I’ll do everything I can for her, even if Callisto won’t.