12. A Deal Worth Fighting For
A Deal Worth Fighting For
~ASTRAEA~
“ Y ou’ve never played tic-tac-toe?”
“Embarrassing, right?” I nervously giggle because I’ve admitted many things in the last two hours. “I’m coming to realize I haven’t done a lot of things in my life thus far.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Icarus mutters calmly. “You’re only nineteen. Can’t expect you to suddenly be able to travel the world and do every activity in the books of social productivity. The point of life is to discover new things but not to feel pressured to race through it where you don’t acknowledge the journey at hand.”
Never thought I’d comfortably admit it, but Icarus is the most interesting Alpha I’ve ever had the privilege of interacting with. From our first interaction, I expected some cocky douche who knew the power he carried in this world by being born an Alpha male in this society of power.
However, after our intense sexual fling that led to another steamy session of lust in the shower, then us distracting ourselves by getting lost in conversation, I realize what an amazing man he really is.
It’s odd to compare him, but this calm aspect of himself gives me a bit of Knox when he delivers words of wisdom and encouragement. There’s also a bit of Velvet in the mix with his demeanor and short temperament.
Not much correlation, but seeing as I have very few individuals in my circle of family and friends, it’s the best way for me to categorize his traits.
I didn’t expect him to get upset when I explained my upbringing and the situation going on with my mother. He got defensive on my behalf, explaining how wrong and exploitative her behavior and lifestyle had impacted my and my dad’s life. How his pack had no choice but to distance themselves because that toxic cycle of repetitive agony can leave someone in a whole lot of regret as time goes on.
Regret leads to resentment, and that in an Alpha can shift into a dangerous layer of fury.
Anger that can unravel into something so negative, someone will get hurt at the end of it.
“You’re still young, too,” I admit. “Twenty-three, yes?”
“Mhmm.” He’s been playing with my hair for a few minutes now. I doubt he even realizes it. We’ve been laying in this bed—that I’ve yet to learn who it belongs to—talking about our lives as though we’ve dated for months. What’s comforting is how I don’t feel as though he’s judging me.
“You’ve done a lot, though, for your age,” I comment. “Becoming a talent manager means you climbed the ladder ruthlessly to get there.”
“In this industry, yeah.” He doesn’t sugarcoat it. “Many stopped trying to use my age against me. Seemed childish.”
That makes me giggle while trying to envision a confrontation with one of the many snarky Alpha douches who think they’re better than you for far too many reasons.
“You have the typical workers who think they’re better than you because they’ve been in the industry longer,” I summarize the first potential coworker who’s ready to ignite conflict. “Then there are the ones who will emphasize how close they were to a promotion, but they declined the offer versus losing it to someone ‘less’ qualified because they were focusing on their mental health. Then there are the ones who have to emphasize working with every single celebrity because they’re that sought out,” I summarize the top three in my mind. “Did I miss the mark?”
“Bullseye multiplied by three,” he says with a lazy smirk. “Don’t forget the ones in management who were one step closer to being in your very position, but the timing wasn’t right.”
That has me laughing because I’ve heard that excuse in various scenarios. It’s one of the benefits of being a secret celebrity lyricist.
Hearing and witnessing all the tea while blending in the shadows like an average, boring person in society.
”Outside of the daily struggles of being in the creative industry, do you like it?” I’m curious because he can’t be doing this just for the money. He doesn’t look like the type who would put up with the stressors of managing various bands and artists.
He thinks about it for a long minute before he answers.
“Yes. Aside from how stressful and unfair this industry is, I do enjoy what I can bring to the table. How an artist can go from an unheard nobody into an idol everyone is fascinated with. I feel like it’s more of my duty to ensure they remain humble, but it’s tricky in this industry, especially surrounded by Alphas. Even I get cocky sometimes, but I have people in my life to keep me accountable when it gets too much,” he quietly confesses.
I’m surprised by the vulnerability in his voice, as though there are very few who have heard him express these words of admission.
“A lot of these artists have emotional pasts. Stories that are told in the music they work hard to get out there. It’s my purpose to use all avenues to get them acknowledged by a world that moves far too quickly. It’s rewarding when you get to see them have their ‘I made it’ moment. Whether that’s on the stage with thousands of fans waving their lit phones to the music or in a small gathering of VIP individuals who’ve paid thousands to meet them for the first time.” He’s looking at the ceiling, his gaze far away as he envisions his reality. “The hardest part is translating their experience into musical creations that speak to their audience.”
“So, creating the song?” I offer.
“Sort of,” he admits. “There’s the music that needs to be just right. It’s difficult when we’re in a generation where everything needs to be a trendy pop hit. Lyrics are getting less impressive, in my honest opinion. Most music now doesn’t make sense. Just talking about sex. Dick and pussy. So much stupid shit. Talent is going viral not because of the impact a song has on the individual but the stupidity around its creation. It makes you lose out on appreciating the music that are lyrical masterpieces.”
“They get slept on,” I whisper with a smile, following his gaze as I stare at the ceiling with him, the skylight in particular catching my attention. “That’s why finding the right lyricist matters. Even if it means you need multiple ones to create the masterpiece that hits the mark in expressive artistry. I don’t think artists realize how powerful it is to have someone who can write a powerful piece of music.”
“No, they realize,” he whispers. My attention is drawn to him, the two of us sharing a look. “Yet, their desperation to go viral overrides creating works they’re proud of.”
“That’s what leads to their ultimate failure,” I conclude. “Their longevity is severed until they’re no longer relevant in our fast world.”
“Unless their creations are written by Vesper,” he notes. “Somehow ‘he’ creates music that trends continuously.”
I smirk at the use of ‘he’as I give him a side glance.
“Why aren’t you running to the hills to tell everyone Blair Vesper is a weak Omega?” I suggest, expecting him to rat me out because what does he gain from keeping this a secret? In my gut, I don’t feel like he’ll do that, but I barely knew this man for twenty-four hours. He can flip a switch when he feels like it.
“Is that what my Omega wants?” He tosses back as he reaches over to move a few strands of my hair from my face.
“My Omega,” I say as if it’s something to cringe about. “Are you still high from the sex?”
“If that was the case, I’d be trying to keep that high going, little Omega,” he notes with a flickering taunt in his eyes. “Is that what you want?”
I blush before looking away and muttering, “Hmph. You didn’t answer me.”
“I don’t see the need to rat you out,” he declares. “I can see why you hide it. You’re not hiding anything when everyone has made the assumption Blair Vesper is a male Alpha millionaire. Our society can’t fathom a successful Omega with millions in financial freedom and immense talent in creative writing, so who am I to go out there and rain on the parade without any benefit?”
“Any benefit?”
“If you’re going to reveal your identity, it has to have a purpose. One that shakes this society’s core and gives them no choice but to submit to the truth presented to them. Otherwise, it’s not impactful and easily forgettable. We don’t want that, now do we?”
We.
Just having him gesture that we’re doing this thing called life together from this instant onward makes my heart flutter with hope. That this interaction between us can be a permanent one.
“But… it can’t be this easy,” I whisper almost nervously. “I mean… they say Alphas do anything to make our lives miserable. I’ve experienced it plenty… yet…”
Yet, he’s the first to want me to prevail?
“Feels weird to have someone on your side for once?” He dares to whisper the truth that rattles me more than I expect it to.
“Yeah…” I confess and don’t hide the sadness in my eyes.
He sighs and pulls me in closer, his muscled arm around me comfortingly before he lightly kisses my forehead.
“You know… I never thought Vesper would grow in popularity,” I quietly admit. “I started the name after a few attempts of writing. First, I was open with my writing. Trying different avenues. Writing books and short novels. I was very vocal since I was proud of my creative works.”
It seems like only a few weeks ago when I would show my dad and his pack my creations and how I wanted to get into the world of publishing. They encouraged me to do anything I needed to and offered to give me financial backing with my creations. It was comforting, but I never relied on their aid. I wanted to see how far I could take it on my own.
“Being vocal about it only invited criticism and mockery. Who’s going to support an Omega writing books? Plus, who would read them? Would the main character be an Alpha? Or an Omega? If she were an Omega, no one would read it. Who would want to read a romantic story of an Omega falling in love with a bulky, sexy dude she met at the gym?”
“I’d gladly read that,” he proudly states in a way that makes me giggle. “But I get it. Would feel like a waste of time when you put all your energy into writing a masterpiece, only for it to be shunned by the society that isn’t ready for it.”
“Mhmm.” I think about it. “It may be different now, but back then, I wasn’t prepared for the mental scrutiny. For the second-guesses and heavy cloud of doubt. Not to say I’ve always been a confident person, but I had never questioned what I could create until then.”
I can remember those times like it was yesterday. It had darkened my perspective tremendously. Adding the frustrations of my negative mother to mix, I knew continuing that path would lead to me hating this beautiful career full of opportunities.
“Why do I feel that wasn’t helpful with your mother in your orbit, complaining every chance she gets,” Icarus quietly grumbles.
I have to stare into his eyes because it’s amazing how easy it is for him to pick on those things. For him to envision my childhood and put all these facts about me together to see my perspective.
It’s a rarity for an Alpha to do because, realistically, why would they give a hoot of what their Omega went through? Most are adding more trauma and misery to their Omega.
Not being empathic and trying to understand them…
“I wanted to quit many times.” I take a moment to really enjoy the unique shades of his eyes. “Actually… I did at one point. I think the situation with my mom was at its peak of madness. My mom had spent what my dad and his pack needed to secure a deal. It was a big contract. At the same time, I’d been given an agent and needed to pay a fee so we could push it worldwide and see who would pitch it. Back then, those opportunities never came by. Not for an Omega.”
I smirk despite the stressful frustration of the situation back then.
“They say bad times come in threes. All that happened, then the topping of the cake was part of our house caught on fire. Sometimes, I think my mom did it on purpose to try to get rid of the evidence she stole from my dad and his pack money from the safe to buy some limited-edition bag because her closet with thousands of bags was safe from the burning cyclone, but my room with my lyrical stuff and novels was burning to ash.”
I can tell he’s intrigued by my story from the way he deeply frowns. It makes the tiny wrinkles on his forehead crease in dismay.
“You lost everything?”
“Not everything,” I confess and try not to shy away from the stupidity I projected that day. “I would rather die than let those pieces of work burn. I bolted in there.”
“You ran into a burning building for…” He doesn’t even want to finish. I don’t blame him. I’ve heard enough people say, ‘You ran into a burning building for a few pieces of paper.’
It was insanity... and could have cost me my life.
“I did that… but also, there was something of importance for my dad and his pack in there. Even if they didn’t have the money for the deal, that contract was everything. The legal binding of that agreement. If that was gone, they would never be able to get a new one made.”
“Why not?”
“The person who signed it was dead,” I reveal. “There was no copy made of it, and you know the legalities when it comes to official documents. It’s either the original or everything is voided.”
“Fuck, Astraea.”
I like how he seems so frustrated with me. I can’t help but smile and reach out to stroke his cheek.
“I made it out, though,” I say cheekily. “Sure, had smoke inhalation and had to be in the hospital for a few weeks, but my dad and his pack managed to get a loan from his friend and secure the deal.”
“And you? The scouting deal?”
I nervously giggle.
“It fell through.” I still can’t hide the disappointment, even after all these years. It still hurts… “Despite having proof of the fire, they couldn’t wait for a ‘fragile’ Omega to recover when it comes to recruitment, so I lost out on it.”
It’s laughable now, but man, it hurt a lot back then.
“That was probably the first time my dad and his pack saw me cry. Like snot dripping, tears overflowing crying. Nothing they could do would console me. My heart was just broken. I took a long break from writing after that. I think that’s why I started writing lyrics for songs.” I shrug slightly. “The therapist said it would be a good outlet.”
“Did that bitch apologize?” he growls.
I know he’s referring to my mother.
“Nope. Why would she?” He seemed more baffled by my statement than I expected. “The fire was the talk of our neighborhood at the time, and she gained loads of sympathy. People thought her collection had been burned to a crisp. Companies sent her free bags. Her friends at the time made an effort to take her out and buy her shit with money they got from their packs. She was the victim of the fire catastrophe.”
“She wasn’t the victim!” he snaps as if he’s defending me at that very moment. “She’s the fucking mastermind! The damn villain in all of this.”
“Bingo,” I whisper and give him a soft gaze as I lean in and lightly press my lips to his. That seems to calm him down enough, the tension in his body beginning to fade the longer I kiss him.
Breaking the firm kiss, I whisper against his lips.
“You can see why our relationship is toxic. The true reasoning as to why my dad and his pack would rather be anywhere in this world than here with their Omega and her daughter.”
“That’s not fair to you,” he mutters. “To finish your young adulthood without parental support because your mom is a luxury addict with the toxic trait of sympathy fishing.”
“Life’s not fair,” I remind him as though he must have forgotten. I don’t blame him. Alphas don’t suffer as much compared to Omegas. Their lives and lifestyle are designed to see them succeed.
For us, not so much.
“That’s just how it is for us Omegas.”
I’ve accepted it, but that tiny part of me hates this reality.
My little inner child who wished for her stories to be out in the grand world.
“Well, that’s not how it’s going to be anymore,” he huffs. “You’re not going to be in this world struggling to get your words out there. I have connections. Your books can be Hollywood famous in days. I can make the calls, and voila. Done.”
“Icarus…” I’m speechless. “B-But you haven’t read any of my books.”
“But I’ve read every lyrical creation you’ve written for the artists who have gone viral with them,” he reveals. “That’s not just luck. That’s a gift that should have been shared long ago, Rae.”
“Why…” There’s no way he can just support me so effortlessly like that. There has to be a catch. There’s always a bargain waiting to be laid and used like a leash around one’s neck. “You’re not supportive like this to everyone, are you?”
“No.” He doesn’t even try to lie. “But when I see talent, I’ll be someone’s biggest reinforcement in our sinister world. You know, for most artists, that’s all they need. That big push in the beginning and little ones in between. That continued encouragement that they can achieve exactly what they’ve imagined in the depths of their mind in the early hours of the day before bed. Their dreams are at arm’s length with the right resources and a golden opportunity. I can bring that chance to their doorstep.”
He turns to his side, using his right arm to prop up his head as he looks down at me.
“My support can either unlock one’s true determination to become the star they’re destined to be with their talent, or it can ignite those other pesky emotions.”
“Other pesky emotions.”
“Self-doubt. Anger. Fear. Cockiness,” he names a few. “That’s a determining factor that will either make or break them. You get too into your self-doubt, and the opportunity gone in a flash. You get angry with your circumstances being less than others in the past, then you become greedy and lose the joy of potential success thanks to useless comparisons. There’s the fear that can keep you paralyzed long enough to lose your pitch moment with those who can make it happen, and you can imagine how far cockiness can get you.”
“Were you cocky in the beginning?” I can’t help but ask.
“No,” he admits. Despite his obvious smirk, I see the truth in his eyes. “I couldn’t be. I had a lot at stake. My parents didn’t even know what the fuck I was doing until I was trending in the entertainment industry. Heck, I’m not sure even I knew what I was doing.”
He looks relaxed as he continues to keep our softened gaze. I can’t even pull away from our loving stare, even as he reaches out to run his hands through my hair.
“You were just working on autopilot?” I’m trying to envision myself in his shoes.
“I guess.” He doesn’t seem sure. “You know when you’re striving so hard to prove something to the world, and suddenly, you’re on the verge of losing it all? I didn’t realize how much I wanted to be a part of this industry until it was about to slip from my grasp. It left me gasping to survive. To take those necessary steps to get ahead. The first time my dad acknowledged my drive. I’ve always never taken shit seriously, but proving to the world that someone’s a fucking star? That level of redemption and forced admission is a high that never gets old.”
“It’s like you always want to see your clients win,” I affirm.
“Always,” he agrees. “But sometimes, along the path, they forget that’s why I’m in their lives. Once fame hits, you’re slammed with a new set of problems no one talks about. The fame gets to everyone’s head, especially if they’ve never experienced its addictive high. They begin to think they’re invincible, and everyone has to bow to their existence because they’re not a one-hit-wonder yet. Sometimes, it’s fascinating enough that I think it should be researched because the switch is from night to day.”
“And what happens if you can’t get them down from Cloud Nine?” I inquire with great interest.
“They come falling down like tumbling bricks,” he says with a quiet chuckle. “Then they’re begging me to fix it before they’re a cleaned-out act on the streets again.”
“Do you help them?”
“No.”
I’m surprised by his firm answer.
“I’ll admit, I’m a little shocked by that,” I confess.
“I know,” he says as his eyes further softened. “I used to. In the beginning. When I was still naive and hopeful in helping every single person I could. Some would say I was the Talent Knight in Shining Armor. It was a blessing at first, but artists take advantage of that. As though I can fix their drug addiction or the friends they bargain millions with, thinking I’m supposed to sweep in and clean their plate.”
He shakes his head.
“One time, it got too messy. I don’t like relying on my parents for anything because they deal with enough shit on their own plates, but it was that bad. Could have ended my career in a heartbeat.”
My hand is already outward and brushing along his cheek, my touch easing the tension creeping into his face at the memory. He gives me an appreciative smirk before he closes his eyes for a few seconds.
“My parents came through, and my pack brother, Kai, had to close the loose ends. It was the wake-up call I needed to never go over and beyond for anyone again. Not for clients that can turn on you in a heartbeat.”
“So they betrayed you?” I whisper the words. He can tell they’re laced with irony and hints of anger.
“Betrayed and left to be ruined by the savage mutts waiting to rip me out of showbiz for good,” he hums like it’s something worth celebrating. ”Almost had me. Can’t lie there.” He opens his eyes, which display rooted determination. “But I ended up being the victor, and once you’ve tasted victory when you were seconds from the brink of destruction, you ensure it never happens again.”
“Why do you think I won’t betray you?” I ask out of curiosity. “You don’t know me.”
“You’re right,” he agrees and lets his thumb run along my bottom lip, parting them slightly. “Yet, I’m willing to take that risk because my gut tells me you wouldn’t do such a thing, Little Omega.”
I feel a sense of comfort with his words.
“I still think you should have some sort of bargain,” I mutter as if I’m disappointed. I’m not, and he knows it from his expression that brightens with amusement.
“Well, we could arrange something,” he assures me. “Seal it with another round of bedroom shenanigans.”
“God,” I groan and push him away. “Get away from me.”
He’s laughing now, and what a brilliant sound. So joyous and carefree when I’m positive he’s nothing like that outside these walls.
This tour bus, at that.
“I still don’t know whose bed this is,” I voice out. “And here we are, fucking like we own the bus.”
“Technically speaking, I do own it,” Icarus notes. When I gawk in reply, he elaborates. “My pack owns it. We each invested in it to help our leader out. So technically, this is ‘our’ bed.”
“On paper,” I note. “But I bet you this leader is going to throw a hissy fit when he comes and realizes it smells like nasty Omega.”
“Your scent isn’t nasty at all,” Icarus notes in a matter-of-fact tone. “It’s sweet. Brown sugar with almonds and vanilla.”
“Th-That’s what I smell like to you?” I can’t help but stutter as I take a slow inhale of his sweet scent. “Now that I think about it, yours is similar. Minus the vanilla. Whenever I smell you, I immediately think of chocolate-covered strawberries.”
The thought makes my stomach growl far too loudly. It’s enough to have my face red in seconds while we both lower our gazes to my stomach.
“Guess too much sex works up an appetite,” he suggests. “I’ll order something.” I’m surprised he doesn’t pick on me for it. “Pizza, Chinese, or Italian?”
“At like three in the morning?” I gasp in horror. Truthfully, I have no clue what time it is. “Is anything even open?”
“It is for me,” he affirms. “And time isn’t a problem. I’m always working, so when I’m hungry, I eat what I’m craving.” Lifting his eyes to my face, he gives me his best cocky smirk.
“So what does my little Omega want to eat?”
Fuck…
“ D-Don’t ask it like that.” I blush even harder while my body is going haywire with how fucking hot he sounds.
I’m HUNGRY, not HORNY!
If only my body could get with the program.
I swear he knows what he’s doing. He laughs at my embarrassment, but his phone begins to ring, drawing his attention to the screen.
From the dip in his smile, I wonder whether the caller is super important or utterly random. He looks my way, as if he suddenly needs my permission to answer it.
“Answer it,” I encourage him. “We’ll order food afterward.”
That gives him the push to answer the call.
“Icarus speaking.”
Whoever is on the other line must not like wasting time because he’s jumping to the topic of discussion, leaving Icarus no choice but to listen for a good two minutes straight.
His eyes briefly land on me before he looks conflicted.
What is the person on the other end offering him?
“When does this go into effect?” he asks, only to further frown. “Alec, there’s no fucking way we’re going to be able to do that. The movement was initiated today. How the fuck do you expect me to pull strings like that out of my ass.”
There’s more bickering on the other end. I can tell whatever this Alec man is presenting to Icarus is both unavoidable and impactful enough to leave him visibly frustrated.
“Alec. What you’re asking is literally impossible. I can’t just stroll outside, find a random Omega, and bond with her for the sake of Nate’s tour.” When his eyes land on me, I can tell the gears in his mind are moving, but his scowl is only growing from whatever Alec’s response is. “So, you’re threatening me.”
What’s going on?
“That’s exactly how it sounds because you’re not giving me a second option,” Icarus huffs. “You called me out of the four of us because you fucking knew I’m the only one with enough emotional control to not lose their shit on you. If this was Kai, you wouldn’t be breathing by dawn. Kenji would come beat the shit out of you with his drumsticks, and Nate? Let’s not even go there.”
I’m trying to envision who his pack mates are.
Kai is some lethal fucker.
Kenji takes matters into his own hands.
Then there’s this Nate dude who seems to be the ringleader… or was it since Icarus is covering for him?
“Alec, we’re not canceling the tour. Can you even grasp what you’re saying?” Icarus ends up getting out of bed and pacing the small space. That means this shit is serious. “ This tour is everything to Nate. You’ve seen firsthand how hard he worked these last two years especially. Despite everything that happened, he remained committed to every performance, paid and unpaid. This tour is his moment for America to acknowledge his talent. This is his career, and he has no fucking backup line. He ain’t like me or Kenji and Kai with side hustles that ensure we’re financially secure. This is everything. All he has left. You want him going back to his parents’ doorstep with fucking nothing?”
I frown at the scenario because it seems dire. Whoever this Nate guy is, he’s sacrificed a lot to reach famous enough to have his own tour. If he has no backup career to fall on if things go south, it’s a dangerous gamble to play.
Most artists who fail and have no backup plans end up killing themselves…
Whoever this Nate is, I don’t think he deserves such an end. I’ve also never seen an artist of this generation come back from a failed tour.
The embarrassment that comes from failure is forever remembered on social media.
Doesn’t matter how many years go by. The internet thrives on reminding you of your flaws versus your accomplishments.
“Alec…” Icarus is getting more agitated by the second with whatever Alec’s response is. “Fuck… so what is this supposed to be? A culling? Penalizing us Alphas who don’t pick an Omega that yearns for us to prosper in this society? Instead, we should pick the first one we meet whose intentions are clearing our bank accounts. How is this movement supposed to instill positive change when the government is now forcing packs to have an Omega to do anything in the industry? This is madness.”
Kamari hadn’t said anything of the sort yesterday, so this has to be some newly implemented rule with the Knot Their Omega movement.
“So, there’s literally nothing I can do? If I don’t find an Omega ASAP for our pack, we’re essentially fucked,” he summarizes. “Tour canceled. Nate’s career ruined. He can jump off a cliff, and no one will give a shit.”
I cringe at the last part of the sentence.
Icarus notices, which makes him sigh and walk over to me. He lightly pats my head before running his hands through my hair, as if I’m the one having my life fall apart because of this new movement.
“How much time do we have, Alec?” Icarus whispers, and I can hear the depth of dread in his voice. “And don’t bullshit me. Just tell me the honest truth.”
There seems to be a long silence, but I hear the answer.
Twenty-four hours.
Lifting my eyes so I can look up into his concerned gaze, he has no choice but to stare back into mine, the two of us standing in silence as the truth of the matter lingers in the air.
The truth that I potentially have the power to stop this from becoming a catastrophe.
“Alec,” Icarus begins as his eyes continue to bore into mine. “I’ll call you back.”
He hangs up the phone, the device dropping somewhere as if it’s not an expensive device. We’re too far drawn into the intense energy pulsating between us to care. The Omega in me is begging to comfort him. To steal away all the worry and fear Icarus is desperately trying to hide but failing miserably.
I can only wonder what I look like to him, but that thought is gone as he opens his mouth.
“Make a deal with me,” he whispers.
“Is it really a deal or blackmail?” I offer quietly.
Neither of us has to lower our voices, yet we do. As if whatever we agree upon in these early hours needs to be a secret between us.
A now or never moment…
“A deal worth fighting for,” he offers. “To the outside, let them think it’s blackmail. Or fake. Or whatever the fuck gets them off our backs, but…” He struggles to admit the next part, his Adam’s Apple moving up and down as if he needed to swallow a lump in his throat.
“I need your help, Astraea.”
Whether he was going to ask for my help or not, I was going to help him if my Omega status would ensure he didn’t get stuck with some random bitch who just wants to take advantage of the situation, but it finally dawns on me what this could mean.
“This Nate dude, Kai… Kenji and you are all in one pack,” I conclude. “Meaning… they would have no choice but to have me as their Omega temporarily because of this movement happening,” I summarize.
He nods his head.
“I can explain in detail, but… every second I waste puts Nate’s tour in jeopardy.” He’s truly fearful for his pack mate. “He’s my client, yes, but at the end of the day, he’s my best friend. A pack brother I trust with my life. He’s not a simple person. He’s probably the most complex out of all of us, but he doesn’t deserve this ending. Not when he worked so fucking hard to get to this moment of glory.”
Icarus, who was filled with that cocky confidence, looks like a man grasping for the last set of strings that will save him from doom.
I don’t like that at all.
“I’ll keep your secret safe, and you be our Omega… until you don’t want to anymore.” He doesn’t like how it sounds, but I know he’s just trying to problem-solve this grave situation. “I can give the impression this is out of convenience, so it leaves your options open. If you don’t like our pack, once the tour is wrapped up, you can walk out. We won’t hold you back, but we need you for this tour, Astraea.” He swallows again and leans in enough to press his forehead against mine.
“I need your help, Little Omega.”
To see him submit in such a way makes me lift to my tiptoes so I can wrap my arms around his massive frame. He easily scoops me up into his grasp, allowing me to melt in his warmth as we share a comforting hug that helps ease our anxieties.
I don’t know what is running through his head, but I’ve seen enough of Icarus tonight to conclude that this tour is important to him and his pack.
That his friendship with Nate is worth going to any extent to ensure it’s protected by any means.
“Okay,” I whisper against his neck as I hug him tighter. “A deal worth fighting for. Let’s do it, Alpha.”