Page 19 of The Boss Omega
It’s never been a dream of mine. It would make things simpler, but it’s not required. My family’s pack is not scent-sensitive. But my mom and my dads are as dedicated to one another as any pack I’ve ever seen. Three alphas, like us. But bonded to an omega who chose them for them.
The right omega doesn’t have to be written into our biology. Just needs to be ours.
We’ll find her. There’s no rush. I’m inching closer to forty, but I haven’t felt the pressure that he has. His upbringing was different. Alpha parents who treated their marriage more like a business merger than a partnership. He’s always wished for more.
The pack.
The omega.
The fairytale.
“Connect the dots for me.”
A smile pleats his face. “This means that my research could literally impact half the world’s population. An omega from the Himalayas could match with a pack from the Andes.”
Graham’s filed more patents than I can count, but this research is different. It’s personal. He wants to make scent matching easier. More accessible.
“That’s really great,” I say. And I mean it. I’m proud of Graham. Proud of this pack. My eyes snag on the empty chair next to Graham.
“Have you heard from Saint today?”
He shakes his head before looking back at his open computer screen.
Pack meals are non-negotiable. My pops made the rule for his pack, and I set it for mine. Graham brings the research. Saint used to bring the war stories from the station. Since his injury his chair's been empty more nights than I like.
I haven't pushed. He'll talk when he's ready. Maybe I need to remind him why the rule exists. He usually texts me to let me know when he’ll be late, though.
“Maybe he’s working overtime.”
“He’s still on desk duty. He can’t pull extra shifts until his shoulder heals.”
Graham shrugs.
I move to the sink to wash my hands. My phone rings. A number I don’t recognize flashes across the screen. I contemplate letting it go to voicemail, but my sister’s been extra sick this week. Maybe it’s the hospital.
I wipe my hands on the dishtowel and answer.
“Mr. Caron?”
“Yes?” I don’t recognize the soft, feminine voice on the other side of the line.
“My name is Alice and I work for Riverside Elite Heat Clinic.”
I go still.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I was hopeful you could connect me with your packmate, Santiago de la Cruz? He listed you as his emergency contact and pack alpha.”
My alpha senses flare.
“Saint’s not here right now. Is there something I can do for you? Is he okay?”
“He’s fine, or he was when I last saw him. Mister de la Cruz had an appointment today with an omega. He left abruptly, before they could be formally introduced.”
What is she not saying? And why didn’t Saint tell me he had signed up for a clinic? He knows he can tell me anything. So why didn’t he?
I drag my hand across my jaw.
She clears her throat. “Normally I wouldn’t share these things, but we’re in a bit of a predicament.”
