Page 21 of Puck & Her Blades

“Of course. We want to make sure that you’re as happy as possible with us. I made the chocolates myself this afternoon. I’m excited for someone else to join the Blades who can eat what I bake. For me, baking is an act of love. My bonded Alphas are banned from touching anything outside their strict diet, which the sports nutritionist drew up for them.”

I grimace.

I know what it’s like to be controlled to such an extreme degree.

“That sucks. But you can send all chocolate and baked treats my way. It’s a tough job, but this Reject is up for it.”

“Good to know.” Cygnus’ expression becomes firm, however, and it’s weirdly like a kitten’s about to become cross with me. Still, I have a feeling that this one may have claws. “Don’t call yourself Reject again.”

All of a sudden, the bracelet around my wrist feels too heavy.

I blush, forcing myself to lower my gaze.

He’s the first and treasured Omega in the pack. He has the power and the status.

I can’t push things. I’m meant to obey him.

“Yes, Cygnus,” I reply, quietly.

“Don’t do that.” Cygnus pushes himself off my lap. His scent smells like burned sugar in his distress. Shocked, my gaze snaps up to meet his. What did I do? “Don’t act around me. Shout and cuss at me, if you like. I know that you’ve only just been bought from the Institute. You’re free to kick my ass about that. You’re never going to be in trouble with me. But don’t pretend.”

“I didn’t mean…”

When he clasps my hand between his, I can feel that he’s trembling. “But you did. I get enough of that from everyone else, PR teams and the staff at Blade House. We’re pack Omegas now. If we can’t be authentic with each other, then who can we be ourselves with?” He leans closer as he whispers, “Omegas should stand side by side. We have each other, and that’s enough.”

My chest suddenly feels too tight. I’m too hot.

I want to claw at my skin.

He’s not my bonded Omega. I can’t let myself pretend that he is.

This is too much and yet not enough at the same time.

It’s agonizing.

Can I truly risk dropping my mask?

“Is it?” I demand. “Are you saying that your Alphas aren’t going to be pissed that my scent is all over you? Shouldn’t we be spending this time coming up with some kind of story to cover what we’ve been doing?”

“What have we been doing? Did I miss the part where I fucked the puck?” He blinks, confused.

I flush.

Fucked the puck?

Okay, now we’ve truly found my marketing slogan.

“Of course our scents are all over each other.” He leans closer, taking a deep sniff. “Yours is delicious and spicy. My Alphas are going to go wild for it. They knew that I was coming here to welcome you. They know that I nuzzle everyone. They say that it’s a shame there’s not a position in hockey called the nuzzler because then I’d definitely earn a place on the team, even if I am an Omega. Anyway, who do you think chose these roses? But don’t let Zev know I told you that because it’ll totally mess with his bad boy image.”

Cygnus’ mesmerizing, when he’s talking intently, even if I don’t understand half of what he’s saying.

He’s like a miniature whirlwind wrapped in silk.

Still, what the hell?

Now, it’s my turn to blink. “Huh?”

Zev is all ice white hair, punky clothes, and parties so wild that he’s either dancing, drinking, or fighting.

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