Page 29 of Shattered Omega

Expectedly, she turned on me, a snarl on her face, hatred in her eyes. It drained away as I flipped the kitchen knife in my grip and held it out to her—a peace offering.

She took it and spun back on Dusk, her whole petite body tense with rage.

Better, I thought with a sigh.

Much better.

“He picked the couch,” I murmured.

Just trying to be helpful.

With Dusk dodging out of reach, Shatter dug the kitchen knife into the couch with a fury that made me goddamned proud.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Dusk groaned. “Could you get a—?” His words cut off as a half shredded couch cushion launched square in his face, fluff exploding all over the living room.

“You liar!” Shatter was hissing. “You said you ‘changed my name’!”

Dusk winced. “I did, technic?—”

“Say that word again!” she snarled.

Dusk raised his hands defensively. “It never came up.”

“Never came up?” she demanded. “Never—” She cut off, stabbing another cushion with outrage.

Nice. I nodded appreciatively. I didn’t know omegas could hit that octave. She was in our bond now, and her trembling omega fury was like a volcano—one that, with the last words, erupted.

At my side, Ransom was picking his way through the mess, eyes darting about as if trying to understand what was happening since neither of them seemed interested in telling us.

What was the rush? It’d come out. I was much more interested in them.

“How would it come up?” she demanded.

“I just mean—” Dusk caught another flying cushion before dropping it. “—There was a lot of shit going on, and I wanted to tell you when it was right—but the longer it went on the more difficult it got.”

“All this time?!” She had paused her onslaught to seize handfuls of her hair, and I reached out to tug the knife back since it was dangerously close to her face. She flinched away, pulling it from my reach, eyes still fixed on Dusk. “Since the start of term?”

I dared to poke at her curiously through the bond, but stopped immediately when her blazing eyes snapped to me. She was kind of scary. Plus, better not piss her off. Shatter being mad at Dusk always ended in the best of things for me.

I mean—it was terrible. Really, really terrible whatever was getting her this upset.

But uh… Would she ever consider fucking me when she was like this?

That would be so hot.

“Oh my God…” Ransom’s voice ripped me from the show. He was at the kitchen island, a piece of paper in hand.

“What?” I asked.

“Oh. My. God.”

Dramatic prick. “Tell me!” I crossed over and ripped it from him, but I froze as I saw the words on the page.

Wait…

What?

It was a formal document stating that… I blinked.

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