Chapter 11
Eleven
RYLAN
M y knees are still fucking shaking as Jasper pops off my dick and tucks it back away, careful of the jeans’ zipper. His rising from kneeling is just as graceful as his drop into it. My stomach tightens, desire shooting through my still-buzzing veins.
Hell, it’s been six fucking months. Six months, and it still feels like the first time. Every time he touches me, kisses me, fucks me, it’s like the first time all over again—new and thrilling and fulfilling in a way I’ve never experienced before. His lips are soft against mine, his smile radiant as I pull away from him. The purr starts, low in my chest, and I don’t fight it as I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him against me.
“I love you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear before his tongue traces the snakes on my neck.
I grunt and pull away from him. “We can’t have round two right now.”
As much as I’d enjoy it. We’ve christened just about every corner of this place—and the cars, too. Jasper in a car is my favorite, I think. The confined space makes him even more desperate. I clear my throat and lace my hand in his even as I take another step away.
His sigh is wistful, but his smirk tells me it’s not actually disappointment he feels. I shake my head and laugh before pulling him across the garage and into the house. Dominic’s leaning against the island in the kitchen, poring over his phone. His black suit sits in stark contrast to the white of the cabinets and near-white of the counters. His gaze flicks up as we approach.
His silence as we near is more disconcerting than if he started spouting off curses in Italian. Dominic swearing means he’s still listening to reason. Dominic silent? He’s moved from ideas to action.
I drop my bag to the ground at my feet, keeping the island between us. My wire is razor thin right now, and Dominic and me fighting stresses Jasper out. The envelope blends into the counter, but it still feels out of place, like there’s a giant spotlight on it demanding all of us acknowledge it.
“You want to do it?” Jasper asks, resting his head on his palms, his elbows on the counter.
He’s taken up the side of the island between Dominic and me, and all the carefree joy he’d coaxed out of us both only a few minutes ago is gone. His eyes are tired, his shoulders tense, his lips twisted in worry. Worry over who the Council picked? Or whether Dominic will honor what he said in the fall? It better not be worry over whether or not he’ll still have a place with us. We’ve spent the last six months proving that he’s ours . No Omega will ever change that.
“Rylan?”
I pull myself from my thoughts and grab the envelope, ripping open the seal and dropping the packet of information onto the table. A small picture falls free from the rest of the papers, sliding across the island toward Jasper and Dominic, twisting so perfectly I’m half-convinced there’s a magnet in it somewhere that’s forcing its movements.
The black hair and smirk of a smile hit me in the chest, as strong as one of Dominic’s punches. My knees buckle again, and I grab the counter. She’s in a graphic tee in the photo, the album logo one I immediately recognize—The Script is one of my favorite bands. Her skirt flares away from her, landing mid-thigh. She’s fucking gorgeous . A sick sense of excitement floods me. My dick’s instantly hard, the remembered honeysuckle scent flashing through me like a damn aphrodisiac.
I’m going to get to fuck her again.
Probably. I’m probably going to get to fuck her again.
Jasper’s gone pale, his hands trembling where they trace the edges of the photograph. Emotion wells in his eyes, so strong and consuming, it feels like I’ve been hit with it, too. Longing. Fear. And maybe, just maybe, some hope.
She’s the fucking Omega . The raw confession from last week lingers unspoken, but it’s practically shouting in my mind.
He’s never talked about her, no more than that first night when I asked about the necklace. I’ve never pushed. He’s here with me now. If he doesn’t want to divulge previous relationships, that’s his choice. I close the distance between us, running my hand along his shoulder before palming his neck. He glances away from the picture of Violet, and my breath catches.
“You all right?” I ask.
His throat moves with his swallow as he thinks over whatever he wants to say.
“ Non importa ,” Dominic mutters, gruff. He’s rifling through the paperwork, not looking at either of us. And certainly not the photo of Violet.
Jasper scowls and turns away from me. “What do you mean it’s not important?”
“I’m having it annulled.” He says it like he’s saying he’s going to get steak for dinner. Emotionless, clinical. My stomach twists, but I bite back the growl wanting to form. I knew he’d fight it. I knew it, and yet there was a heartbeat’s moment of excitement, a hairsbreadth span of space for hope to form in my chest. I force my face to stay impassive even as Jasper freezes.
“Why?” His voice is ragged. He runs a shaking hand through his hair before messing with the chain of his necklace. “She’s…” He swallows and grabs the informational letter from the top of the pile of papers Dominic’s no longer looking through. “She’s already accepted it. There’s no way for you to undo this without her knowing about being reassigned.”
Dominic shakes his head and fills out one of the forms. “That’s not my problem, Tesoro . You are my concern. I won’t allow you to be hurt.”
“You promised me.” Jasper’s whisper hangs in the air. Dominic pauses, halfway through his signature, and narrows his eyes on our lover. “They get one shot at this, Dominic. You promised me you wouldn’t sabotage it.”
“What does it matter what I said then?” Dominic’s voice is low, deadly. “You don’t want her, either. You said you’d rather throw up with the philharmonic than see her again.”
“That doesn’t mean I want her ridiculed,” Jasper says, surprisingly calm. “The match will be made public before any of that paperwork has a hope of being processed. The entire country will know that we rejected her.”
Not really. Only the most drama-obsessed pay attention to the Council’s matching announcements. There will be hundreds listed over the next couple days as the paperwork is finalized with the Omegas that attended the April gala. They’d have to actively hunt for this one, and we simply aren’t famous enough for that.
Dominic’s growl fills the kitchen between one heartbeat and the next. “And she rejected you , Tesoro . Why do you defend her?”
Jasper shakes his head before covering his face, forcing a deep breath.
“Because no matter what happened in Seattle, her mom is a goddamn piece of work. I wouldn’t wish her on my worst fucking enemy, Dom, and God only knows how much worse she’s gotten in four fucking years. She will pay attention to the matches as they’re publicly announced.”
Dread settles like a stone, weighing down my chest until it’s difficult to breathe. Jasper isn’t prone to hyperbole. If he says she’s awful, then she’s awful.
The silence stretches between the three of us, the house quiet and cold despite all the small things Jasper’s been doing the last couple months to make it feel like ours. Dominic picks up the form that’s still halfway filled out, his face eerily blank.
“All right, Tesoro .”
He pushes away from the island and heads deeper into the house, toward the wing with our bedrooms, the paper still held tightly in his grip. Jasper blows out a breath that’s nearly a sob, and I twist back toward him, my friend forgotten for the more important concern of my lover. His head is in his hands, his shoulders hunched and tight as he leans over the counter.
“How do you know her?” Jasper’s voice is hoarse, like he’s been screaming for days. “Where did you run into her?”
The truth sits like ash on my tongue, but I say it anyway. “The Haven.”
Jasper tenses, his fingers digging into his skin. “She lives here?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. I never hunted her down on socials. What was the point? Not to mention it would have been in violation of working at the Haven. Strictly no contact outside of the facility unless the Omega approaches you. “You’re not allowed to attempt contact while working there. And once I stopped…” I shrug.
Jasper nods once, his body still tight.
“Tell me about her,” I whisper. “About what happened.”
He drops his hands, revealing dual tear tracks running down his face. I wipe them away, cupping his cheeks and kissing him. His breath shudders out of him.
“I met her while doing my first couple years of college at the community college. Funds were tight, and my auditions didn’t pull any scholarships. She was there with her friend who was touring the place.” He pulls away from me, and I let my hands fall to my sides. He traces her face and then body on the photograph. “She hadn’t even designated yet.”
Surprise lights through my veins.
“How old were you?”
“Just about to turn 21,” he admits. “She was seventeen, finishing her junior year.”
He swallows, and then the rest of the words come pouring out of him, like a dam breaking on a river.
“She designated that fall, almost exactly a year after we started dating. She was in a panic. Her mom is awful, concerned with social standing and what people think about her. She sees her kids as pawns in her own PR game of sorts. Most of the super rich are like that from what I’ve heard and seen. Her dads are cool though, especially Kurt. He’s her biological father.”
I rest a hand on his. “She grew up in a pack?”
Jasper nods. “She’d hoped she wouldn’t designate. She wanted to be a Beta, wanted to be less under her mother’s thumb. She was heartbroken when she perfumed the first time and the bloodwork confirmed it.”
There’s a level of irony in that that has me forcing down a laugh. Of all of us, I’m the only one that’s ever actually been happy about my designation. It helps that it’s the reason I’m still alive. She’ll probably fit right in. Assuming Dominic can get his head pulled out of his ass. And whatever went wrong between Jasper and her is fixable.
“Her mom wanted her on suppressants to keep her heat from emerging, said it was to keep her safe while she was finishing high school, but V-Vi—” He trips over her name and clears his throat. “Violet thought it probably had more to do with controlling what Alphas she interacted with. You know how vulnerable they are when they’re in heat.”
I move to stand next to him, pressing my lips into the nape of his neck, soothing him with my touch when words would never be enough. The tension slowly ebbs from his body, his weight pressing back against me, his temple resting against mine.
“So tell me what went wrong, why you ended up here with us at the philharmonic instead of staying in Seattle with her.”
He does, each word more heartbreaking than the last, until he’s completely limp in my arms.
I need another cigarette, and then I need to bury myself in a bottle of whiskey even though I know getting blackout drunk is just asking for problems. Because this rift between them? I’m not sure it’s fixable.