“Put yourself down.”
Mylo bristles. “Put me the fuck down, rightnow?—”
Slightly sick of his shit, I drop my arms. My lap is still under him, so he won’t fall, and he’s free to roll off.
A desperate gasp catches in his lungs, and he throws his arms around my neck, clinging close.
His panicked breathing quickly evens as he tucks his cheek against my pulse point, where my scent is strongest.
I lean down to brush my lips over his ear. “I thought you wanted down.”
“Shut up.”
I let him lean against my chest as I text Gia. Known to the rest of the world as Giovanna Heath, award-winning psychiatrist and pioneer of a dual therapy-suppressant modality for designation dysphoria, she’s another female alpha in our little pack.
I text her, and she replies promptly.
Me
Hey girl, want a free vacation to New Zealand??
Gia
Tee, your account got hacked by a spammer bot. Fix it.
Me
It did not
Gia
You know I have more than enough money to go on vacation at times that are convenient and pleasant to me
Me
I need your help, actually
Gia
Shocker. You only text me when you need something.
Me
That’s because whenever I texted you to check in, you told me to fuck off unless I needed something!
Gia
Hm. That does sound like me.
Me
I’m filming the next Electra movie right now. There’s a crew member who was hiding their omega status, and they’re kind of freaking out. Or, like, their body is freaking out. Fever, full-body pain, all the… wives’ tale stuff.
Gia
Well, why didn’t you just say you had a research subject for me?!
Me
