39. LOREN
Chapter thirty-nine
LOREN
M ax is a smug bastard. He hums to himself while he sets the table. The dining room is full of them . Their mingled scents. The thick perfume of her arousal, and he’s covered in it.
My mouth waters, and an uncharacteristic jealousy rises in my throat like an undigested meal. I’m not jealous of Max; no, I’m glad he’s making strides with our Omega. I’m happy she feels comfortable enough with him to enjoy intimacy.
I’m jealous that we haven't reached that point yet. My desire for her is like a physical ache, a need that cuts down to my marrow. But I don’t want to press her too far. I see her skittishness, and can scent the way she bristles when we hover too close.
But confident, charming Max found a way in. A way to melt the walls around her heart.
I want to do that too. I want her to trust me, to tell me all of the things that weigh on her, to let me help her fix them, ease them. I want to wrap her up in my arms and kiss her until our lips are sore. I want to feel the softness of her skin, and taste the sweetness of her cunt.
I roll my shoulders, shaking off the fantasy.
It will come in time. We are all on our own journey with our Omega.
“You can stop grinning,” I tease him as he comes into the kitchen.
“Not on your life, Professor. I am going to grin over our Omega every day.”
I can’t blame him; I’d be the same love-drunk fool if I’d been the one to pleasure Katie.
“Is she… the same as Omegas here?” I ask quietly. I’ve been curious, of course. The nurse reports said that they had nearly identical biology, and that reproduction should be possible, though not guaranteed. But Aurelia said that the sisters had been alarmed when told about Alpha knots.
Clearly, that is a major biological difference between us and Earth males.
“Better,” he says, picking out a bottle of red wine and uncorking it. “Loren, you should have seen her. She held her own against Ace Bridewell, and could calculate his range and reach. She knows how to fight, though I can tell she’s a bit out of practice. And Roark,” he shakes his head, the grin slipping for a moment.
“I have every right to gut the bastard, touching our Omega. Fuck, he violated the protocols around sparring and Omega care. But Katie knocked him out. One punch on the jaw. And she was managing his momentum against him too. Light as a feather on the breeze; she just misjudged his arm length and he grabbed her.” Max’s jaw tenses and I notice the way his molars grind. An old tick of frustration he rarely did since…
Since Genevieve left.
“I can’t believe he touched our Omega,” I say. My own skin bristles at the thought of any other Alpha touching her. Every one of my nerve endings buzzes, alerting me to danger. Like I’m one of the ancient wild Alphas on the verge of a shift into a wolf to protect my Omega and our Pack. Too bad the shifting gene has all but died out.
“He said she’s fair game until the bite. We all know that courting counts as possession until an official engagement and bonding. I just didn’t realize how strong her scent was– I mean it’s intoxicating, but we’re all blood matches. But Loren, all the Alphas were hard up for her.”
He growls, then forcibly relaxes his shoulders, before pouring out two glasses of wine and handing me one.
“But gods above, she tastes better than she smells. She’s so tight, so controlled. But when she lets go….” He raises his glass, looking almost dreamy. “It’s pure magic.”
A snort over Max’s shoulder breaks the reverie.
“Magic is for children’s stories.” Callum grabs the wine bottle and pours himself a glass.
“Long day?” I ask, grabbing for him before he can disappear into his study. His uniform shirt is still buttoned to the collar and lines crease his eyes.
“Yeah,” he says, before taking a mouthful of wine. “Another break in– this was at the hospital. Someone ransacked all their blood testing machines. Smashed them all up, stole trays of blood samples.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping.
“Third break in where medical equipment was stolen. But we can’t find a trace of the culprits. Camera caught two men carrying bags out of the hospital, but they could just be laundry. One of the cameras strategically was down, of course. Whoever they are, they’re fucking smart and know we’re watching for them.”
Callum rubs his forehead. He doesn’t often tell us about his cases– not anymore. This must be bothering him, to let this much slip.
“You smell like sex,” he grunts at Max.
Max just smirks at him. “You should smell our Omega,” he teases. “Fucking heaven, all spread out for me. If you’re a little nicer to her, she might just let you have a taste too.”
“I’m nice,” Cal snaps, then sighs.
Max and I both laugh. There are many things we can say about Callum Murphy, but nice is not one of them. Loyal. Brave. Protective. Fierce. But not nice .
I pull Cal to me. He resists, but I tug harder. I have a few inches on Cal– for all that he loves to dominate, I am bigger. I wrap him in my arms. Our intimacy of this morning feels like a lifetime ago.
“You’ll find them,” I whisper. “And you’ll figure out things with our Omega. There’s no rush.”
I taste the lie even as it leaves my lips.
There is a rush. Her heat is coming. She needs to trust us if we’re going to help her through it.
Callum holds my hips with his free hand, and for a moment I see the raw vulnerability that he hides behind a mask of indifference and frustration. He wants her. He wants this Pack to have an Omega, to be complete and whole. To be healthy and vibrant again.
Gods do I love this man.
I kiss him, a tender press of lips, the lightest flick of my tongue.
“Oh, I’m sorry…” Katie says, frozen in the doorway of the kitchen.