Page 31 of Shattered Omega

I nodded with distant appreciation.

That was nice, I supposed.

She’d have had those little white fur rings on the cuffs of her sleeves and hood. Maybe I’d worn a ushanka.

I didn’t realise I’d spoken out loud until Shatter’s strangled sound of fury. “I wanted a beach wedding!”

Every alpha in the room went still. My eyes snapped from the paper to her. Dusk straightened in shock, leaving him open to an airborne spoon which caught him in the corner of the eye, (I was wrong about the ammunition). He didn’t even flinch.

“You… do?” he asked, dumbfounded.

We were all staring.

“NOT WITH YOU!”

But Dusk was already reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone.

“What are you doing?” Shatter demanded, finally drawing up fully from her onslaught as Dusk started tapping furiously on his screen.

“Asking Decebal for a divorce.”

“What?”

“You want a beach wedding?—”

“NO!” Shatter launched herself across the couch, flying into Dusk like a rocket. He staggered a step back, and then they were a tangle of limbs as she tried to wrestle the phone from him. “Don’t. You. DARE!”

“You don’t—want—a—beach wedding?” His words were punctuated with grunts as he tried to detangle her.

“I don’t want a divorce!” she wailed. Finally, she actually managed to win the fight by sinking her teeth into Dusk’s arm and making him yelp. Then she scrambled away, his phone clutched in her hand. I stepped forward to catch her before she backed into the island at high speed.

She spun on me, eyes wide and phone hugged to her chest like I was going to steal it. Then she relaxed as she took me in.

We just stared at each other for a long moment. “You’re… uh…” My wife. I couldn’t seem to form the words.

She nodded, a little squeak in her chest.

For a split second, as she took me in, there was a beam on her face, but when I reached to hug her, she burst into tears.

That was fine. Really normal reaction, actually, considering.

I drew her into my arms. Good plan, since she couldn’t see my face that way, and it had decided it didn’t care if it wasn’t the moment for a stupid grin.

But Shatter was my wife. All of our wife… wives? Wife? I narrowed my eyes. Wasn’t sure, actually.

Oh shit…

With a moment of panic, I realised I needed to get on Dusk’s level of cooking—she’d certainly be refusing his food after this. And Ransom was worse than me or her.

Oh dear.

She was my wife now—I couldn’t let her starve.

With watery eyes, she hugged Ransom next, letting out a vicious growl when Dusk tried to get his phone.

I had already opened mine and was bookmarking dozens of breakfast tutorials.

Did they have a culinary program at this academy?

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