Page 16 of Puck & Her Blades

He’s tiny, delicate, and beautiful.

He looks to be in his early twenties. His skin is creamy, his neck is long like a swan’s, and his features are elven.

His silky waist length platinum curls cascade all the way to his cute ass and are streaked with lilac. It matches the shade of his sweeping, calf length cashmere coat, which he’s wearing over an ivory silk shirt and pants.

The collar of his coat is turned up in a dashing way like he’s a Victorian Omega.

I feel even more ridiculous now dressed up like I am, when he looks so proper and respectable.

How could I compete with an Omega as gorgeous as he is?

He’s precisely the type of Omega who you would imagine would be bonded to a prestigious pack like the Blades.

Yet my heart’s beating so fast not because I want to compete with him but because I wish…fuck, I really wish…that he could become my bonded Omega.

I’m already feeling feral.

Cygnus is holding a bouquet of purple roses that are almost as large as he is, which are tied with a black ribbon, along with a gleaming box of chocolates.

It should hurt to see how treasured he is, but all I feel is relieved.

After meeting Roarke, I half imagined that Cygnus would be bruised and limping.

My heart beats fast.

I’m startled, however, when Wolfie snarls and dives on Cygnus.

“And I love pussies,” Wolfie rumbles. “Dumb of Jackson to let his bitch off his leash. Now I get to kick his ass, before the game starts. I wonder how well Jackson will play, when he smells distressed Omega throughout the game.”

Wow, that’s the exact type of dirty trick that I used to expose on my blog. You harm a pack’s Omega in order to gain a competitive advantage.

Fuck, this is my fault.

I shouldn’t have taken the piss out of the Beta and made him feel that he had something to prove.

Now he’s going to take it out on Cygnus.

Except, I won’t let him.

I growl. “Hey, fucking stop it.”

But it’s too late.

Wolfie snatches Cygnus by his elegant neck and slams him against the wall. “Look at that, your puck’s feral.”

Cygnus bites out a cry, dropping the flowers and chocolates to the floor, where they’re trampled.

I wince at the crunch, as Cygnus’ shoulders hit the wall. Cygnus’ pretty face scrunches with pain, and he whimpers.

No fucking way.

I clench my hands into fists and step toward Wolfie, but Cygnus shakes his head warningly at me.

“Please tell me, which animal am I? My poor Omega brain is confused.” Cygnus peers meekly at Wolfie from underneath his long, black eyelashes, but the sharp intelligence in his eyes is anything but submissive. “Pussy or dog? Personally, I’d prefer to be a cat because I’m a cat person.” His gaze flicks to mine, before his lips curl up for such a brief moment that maybe I’m imagining it. “And I have been hoping to get into loving pussies.”

Fuck, does he mean that how I think he does, or is it just my filthy and hopeful mind?

It’s definitely gold medal winning flirting.

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