Chapter 41
Luciano
My tongue’s in Revea’s mouth when the car comes to a stop.
“You’re not going in the back again,” Val mumbles from the passenger seat.
I scowl at my brother over Revea’s shoulder. “A few days ago, you and Syl were back here doing much more than kissing.”
“That was on the way back,” Sylvan murmurs, sounding unfazed, but his eyes are locked on Revea’s bare legs as she slides off me.
“To be continued on the way home?” she whispers in my ear, still loud enough for everyone to hear, causing a collection of groans. But the word home echoes through the bond, and for a moment, we all feel it.
This is the fifth day Revea’s been back at the salon, and all those days in between have been spent at the house, our home, and they’ve been some of the best of my life.
I can’t keep away from her. None of us can.
We’re fighting over who sits next to her in the car, on the sofa, beside her in bed.
The evenings after work are quickly becoming my favourite. She introduced us to this crappy reality TV programme, but now we’re completely invested. We’ll cook or get take-out, Revea will slip on someone’s t-shirt or hoodie, then we’ll settle down on the sofa together to watch Love is Scentless.
And the sex… anywhere, everywhere.
Pretty sure she woke up this morning with Kaiden between her thighs, or was it Val?
Even now, while she’s at work. I know she’s working. I’m watching her do all sorts of shit with hair from my spot against the wall. But all I can think about is how good she looks in that fucking pleated skirt. How she’d look bent over with it pushed up…
Joder. I shake the image away. I’m blaming her brother for this.
When her clothes from the flat were finally released from evidence, Rowan dropped them off at the salon, and now she’s been wearing all sorts of outfits that have my fingers twitching.
Like this sexy little skirt that flares up when she moves too quickly…
“Deep breaths,” Val rumbles over the bond.
I listen, taking one deep breath in and out. “I swear I’m in fucking heat.”
He chuckles from beside me. “I get that.”
“I thought the more time we spent together, the less I’d feel the need to fuck her over every surface.”
“Mmm,” Val murmurs, distracted, tilting his head as Revea reaches for something on a shelf. I copy. “Even after tasting her this morning,” he continues in a rasp, “I just want more.”
“You two, stop,” Kaiden snaps in our heads, then steps around the corner with a scowl on his face, phone to his ear. “Thanks, Lyana, we’ll try and keep her away.”
I frown, pointing to his phone. “What was that about?”
“Back room,” he clips, already heading through the door without seeing if we’re behind.
Sylvan’s already there, surrounded by his set-up of monitors. It’s a quiet little room right at the back of the kitchen that Revea said is for excess stock. Private. Out of the way…
Maybe I could convince Revea to come back here during her break—
“Stop,” Kaiden snaps, even sharper than before. “I’ve got you two in my head talking about fucking and tasting—” He scowls at Val and me. “—then I’ve got Sylvan sending me multiple updates about Revea’s heat.”
“What updates?” I stare at Syl, alpha alert, both of us suddenly very eager to listen.
“Revea’s scent is getting stronger. Our testosterone count is higher.”
I frown. “How the hell do you know that?”
“We can all smell—”
“The testosterone, Syl,” Val clarifies.
“Ah,” he says, turning back to his screen and maximising a tab.
Four line graphs appear, each with our names underneath. Mine’s got a nice steep incline going on.
“The microchips,” he says casually.
I study the images again. All four. “When did Kaiden get chipped?” I murmur to my brother.
“Revea’s underwear,” he replies quietly. We glance at each other but say nothing more.
I’d let Syl put ten more chips in me for them.
When Sylvan turns in his chair to face us, his expression is contemplative. “Do you think Revea would let me give her—”
“No, nope,” I interrupt immediately. “Let’s go back to the heat updates. Her scent is stronger, and our testosterone is doing…” I point to the screen. “That. Which means…”
“She’ll be in heat soon,” Syl finishes with a small smile.
“But her heat’s three weeks away,” Val says instantly. Clearly, someone has been tracking it.
Not like I haven’t got a fire emoji on that exact date in my calendar.
“Yes, but we’re living together. Research shows that when compatible omegas are in close quarters with alphas, their scents will combine and trigger certain hormones to release.” He smiles again. “It’s good. Means we’re very compatible.”
“I don’t think we needed a science lesson to know that, Syl. All I can think about is her.”
My words make the room fall silent. No doubt all of us are picturing Revea.
“Shit,” Kaiden hisses, scowling at his phone. “Syl, check your emails from Lyana, then put it on screen.”
With a few clicks, Sylvan’s monitors flood with headlines.
Revea Monroe’s Rise: Independence… Funded by Alphas?
Revea Monroe: Redefining Omega Independence or Undermining Pack Tradition?
OMEGA “INDEPENDENCE” DRIVES ANTI-PACK FRENZY
“This is what Lyana called me about,” Kaiden murmurs.
Val steps closer, jaw tightening as he reads each one. “This is bad.”
“Ve can handle a few headlines…” I say, but then I start to read.
An “anti-pack” omega with round-the-clock security and unexplained funding? Experts say the numbers simply do not add up. If she stands alone, why does it look like a pack built the foundation? Here are the top five packs we think could be the masterminds behind it all…
All the blood rushes out of my body.
“Think about what she’s told us, ” Val murmurs, voice low. “How she built this place to prove what omegas could do. This undermines everything she stands for.”
“If anyone realises we’re more than her security, they’ll say we funded everything,” Kaiden says grimly.
“If she reads this… she’ll think distancing herself from us is the safest move,” Sylvan says, frowning at the screen. “She won’t want to stay with us anymore.”
My throat is suddenly dry. “No, no. Maybe a week ago, but not now. Right?”
No one answers, and the room falls silent.
“Keep her away from this, for now,” Kaiden decides, dragging a hand through his hair. “We’ll talk tonight. Just get back out there and act normal.”
***
The rest of the day is a blur of dread. It bleeds through the bond that’s been otherwise silent. I catch myself checking my phone way too much, every headline worse than the last. Questioning how a packless omega could ever possibly succeed.
“Hey—”
I flinch when Revea suddenly touches my hand.
“Sorry, didn’t you hear me?” she asks softly, a worried smile lining her face.
“No, sorry.” I slip my phone away.
Her brows pinch together. “It’s okay. Sorry I didn’t get to have lunch with any of you today. I’ve been trying to fit in as many clients as I can…” Her smile falters. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lie, and I hate myself for it. I shake out my shoulders. “You ready? Car’s about to come round.”
She watches me for a moment. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Sylvan steps in beside us. “Time to head out.”
He hardly looks at her before he turns away again.
“We’re talking about this later,” she murmurs, a deep line set between her brows, before she follows Sylvan to the door.
She steps outside, and we follow closely behind. It’s the same as every night. Shouting, flashing lights, pink placards with sayings more creative than the last. The crowd is at least getting smaller, and Revea spends most of her time signing things rather than speaking to reporters.
But then one shoves through the crowd, right to the barrier, just as Revea moves—
“Can I get your response to today’s headlines?”
A newspaper is thrust under her face.
She freezes.
“Do you have a secret pack funding your business? Is it Pack Arden?”
Another reporter appears. “Are you anti-pack, Ms Monroe?”
“What? No, I—” Her voice cuts off because I’m steering her to the car.
But they follow.
“You’re not anti-pack, but you don’t have a pack? Make it make sense, Ms Monroe.”
“No, I—”
“So you do have a pack? Have you lied to your supporters? Given them a false symbol?”
Her body tenses, and she stops. Feet set, jaw tight, those sharp eyes burning bright as she turns on both reporters.
“Listen,” she says in a tone I remember from the first time we met. Firm, determined. Deadly. “Whatever the newspapers are saying, it’s all lies. I built this business myself. I run it myself. I’m not lying to anyone.”
“So you don’t have a pack—”
“No, I don’t,” she snaps. “I don’t have a pack, I’m not in a relationship, and I’m not interested in being so.”
The reporters stumble back. One tries to say something, but it’s a mumble of words.
The car door’s already open, and this time, I force her to move. As soon as she’s inside, I follow behind, then slam it shut.
And even though I know what she said was out of anger and panic.
It still fucking aches.
The car sits still for a moment, then the engine hums.
“I... I was ambushed,” Revea says, her breathless voice breaking the silence. “I didn’t even know about those headlines.”
“We knew,” Sylvan admits.
Her head snaps to him. “You knew?”
He nods.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve prepared!”
“We were going to,” he says. “Tonight.”
She frowns. “Why not straight away?”
“We didn’t want to upset you,” Val speaks from the front, eyes fixed ahead.
She huffs, exasperated. “Would you have kept this from any other client?”
“No. But we didn’t treat you like a client, Revea,” Val murmurs. “Our mistake.”
Revea goes very still. “You think... you think I meant what I said?”
No one answers. Not even Sylvan.
“I… I don’t even remember exactly what I said. I... I just reacted.”
“But it’s the truth, isn’t it?” Val says, not turning around.
She stares at the back of his head, frozen.
“You told us you didn’t want a pack,” I murmur, shifting to stare out the window because I can’t look at her. “We knew that.”