Page 39 of The Boss Omega
She takes both our hands and Silas pulls us through the bathroom, where she stops to ooh and ahh over the soaking tub and oversized walk-in shower.
“Four shower heads!” She rushes over to examine it.
"Saint's idea," I say. “Two overhead so we don’t have to fight for water, and two along the walls, so you can shower without worrying about getting your hair wet.”
Saint, who doesn't want an omega. Saint, who walked out of the clinic. Saint, who won’t answer his phone. Saint designed a shower so that our omega wouldn't get her hair wet if she didn't want to. I don't say any of that. But I think she hears it anyway.
I watch her face. A muscle ticks in her jaw. I look at my watch. He should be here soon. I’m dreading it, but also just want to get it over with.
Silas senses the shift in her attitude and tugs her waistband until she’s tucked up against him. “Things will be fine, little bird. We’ll work through this together.” She nods and he kisses her forehead, then turns her so that I can do the same.
“Let me show you your nest, beautiful.”
I turn her around and guide her to the next door. She opens it and steps through stopping just inside. Her scent spikes immediately, salty caramel going warm and thick in the air. Her omega recognizing the space before her brain does. My purr kicks in before I can stop it.
She wordlessly inspects everything within her line of vision. I silently critique it with her. Cream walls and gleaming wooden floors greet us. Two large windows let in muted light. And in the center is a bare round nest. To one side there is a nook where we added a small refrigerator and cabinet that hides dishes and a microwave. This way we don’t have to leave the nest as often during her heat.
“We left it bare so you could arrange it to your tastes.” I step past her, so I’m further inside the room. “The blinds can be raised and lowered from a switch next to the bed.” I demonstrate, lowering the blinds and plunging the room into darkness.
Silas flips a switch by the door, turning on the lights and the fan above. Her roaming eyes land on them, spinning once, slowly, in the direction of the blades.
I’m nervous. “We thought it would be better during your heats. For airflow. And… temperature control. We can have something prettier installed.”
She goes still and locks her eyes with mine. “I love it.”
Relief crashes through me so fast it makes me dizzy. I had a whole speech prepared about the airflow calculations.
“We’ll need to purchase you some things so that it’s to your taste,” Silas says. “We can go to the nesting store when Saint gets back from the station.”
She doesn’t tense as much at this mention of his name, but I can still see the strain around her eyes. He’s hurt her. I file that along with everything else.
I pull her into my side and purr until she relaxes. “Saint’s going to figure this out, beautiful. He just needs a little time to—”
My words are interrupted by a shout from the second floor. "I'll be in my room!" Followed by a door slamming.
The nest goes very quiet. Lark freezes in my arms. Her scent sharpens, salty caramel going burnt and wounded. Then the anger hits. Hot and unfamiliar, sitting somewhere behind my ribs. I’ve known Saint for years. Love him like a brother. But no one, not even my pack mate, gets to disrespect Lark like that.
Silas’ hands clench into tight fists. "Help our girl unpack," he tells me.
His voice is controlled. His fists aren't.
"I'll handle things downstairs. Then we'll take her toThe Nesting Corner. Let her choose whatever she wants for the nest."
Whatever she wants.
Lark
I don’t know what Silas said to Saint while Graham and I put away my clothes, but the two are waiting in the kitchen when we come down. Silas is massaging the area between his eyes while Saint glares at a spot over my shoulder.
Silas changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a plaid button-down that perfectly accentuates his wide shoulders. The sleeves are rolled up to the elbow, exposing his thick forearms and enough ink to make me want to trace every line with my finger to find where it starts and ends. He’s undeniably sexy.
Graham is still wearing his white button-down and khakis, but he’s added a tweed jacket with patches at the elbows. It’s a look you have to commit to, but it one hundred percent works on him.
Okay, professor.
And Saint.
I’ve seen his face before, briefly, in that room at the clinic. I wasn’t prepared for it then, and I’m not prepared for it now. He’s absurdly, almost aggressively handsome. The kind of handsome that stops an omega dead in her tracks. Sharp jaw. High cheekbones. Amber eyes that catch the light and look like there’s something burning behind them.
