Page 27 of Shattered Omega: Part Three

I’d thought back to everything I had on me that day. Bag and pencil case had been easy to search this evening with them around, but I’d come up blank. Clothing wouldn’t be reliable, which left one option.

But searching my boots wasn’t easily done while they were all in the living room.

I lay in bed awake for a long time, waiting until Dusk’s breathing was slow and his arms had slackened around me.

Then, with the utmost care I managed to slip from his arms and off the bed. Pillows that smelled like me would do for a short while. I slipped through my bedroom door and down the hall.

This shouldn’t take long. Then I’d be back, and Dusk would never know.

I kneeled beside the front door and picked up my boots. Carefully, I examined every side, crack, and crevice. Finally, my fingers hit a bump.

I tugged the leather inside out to peer at what I’d found.

“Ha!” I declared. “Sneaky fucking alphas.”

The little black piece was latched on securely, placed in the upper lip near the laces, and where I’d never feel it.

He was tracing me.

I left it. I wasn’t offended that Dusk wanted to know where I was, but if I took it off now, he’d know I knew.

Then I wouldn’t be able to get around it when I needed to.

Emboldened by my success, I set my boots back and stood, now reconsidering the other thing that had surprised Mord today.

The conversation with him had gotten me this far.

He’d mentioned my admission papers and documentation, and some of those were in the safe we no longer had. I crossed to the kitchen and opened the third drawer on the island where Dusk kept other documents—the less serious stuff.

Within, there were the pack’s admission papers, folders with copies of identity documents of the pack, including me. But then…

I frowned, seeing my name on one tucked at the back. It was alone, as if Dusk didn’t want it paired with the others.

My chest was tight as I retrieved it, concern scratching at the back of my mind. But when I scanned the document, my mouth fell open in shock.

I read it over again, and again.

It was official documentation as far as I could tell—even if it was definitely, definitely, forged.

My name was on it.

Shatter Kingsman.

And suddenly I understood Mord’s surprise when I hadn’t grasped the meaning of that title. Dusk had told me he’d changed my name, and… well.

He… had.

“Motherfucker…”

He hadn’t told me?

Why hadn’t he fucking told me?

My heart crashed against my ribcage, drowning everything else out, and my chest swelled with equal parts fury and elation.

“Shatter?” I jumped violently, looking up to see Dusk taking the last few steps into the living room.

For a long moment, I just stared at him. He wore sweatpants and socks, but he was topless, and the scars across his chest that matched mine were pale beside rippling dark muscle. He was breathtaking in the moonlight that filtered in through the living room window. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, half my brain seized by feral omega instincts, the other half tumbling into pure rage.

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