Page 3 of Savage Trap

“Hey, Link,” Kelly says, rounding the island to the pantry where we keep the good snacks. His tone is light, his wave breezy, but I can feel the throb of emotion in our bond before he muffles it. Like always, it makes guilt burn in my belly. Because even after six months of technically being in the same pack, I’ve still got a whole lot of mixed feelings about Lincoln Hila.

Starling, I remind myself as I lean against the counter next to him. He might not be a fully-fledged Ferrier yet, but he’s been a Starling longer than I have. “What brings you by?”

This is our normal now. Polite conversation that ignores all the giant elephants we’re riding around on.

Link stares at me with his unblinking dark eyes. “The guys wanted to know if Arben’s coming home tonight.”

“And you drew the short straw?” He cocks a brow at me and I wave a hand around the kitchen. “They sent you to find out?”

“No. I volunteered.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if he enjoyed eavesdropping on us in the bathroom, but my wolf bites my tongue. Which is just as well. We don’t have any secrets in our pack. No locked doors, or little gossip circles. It was something I insisted upon after the bullshit my supposed stepbrothers put me through. Not that a fated pack with all its interconnected bonds can get away with hiding much.

“Everything ready for tomorrow?” I ask. We’ve discussed the travel arrangements until I could rehearse them in my sleep, but this is an olive branch of sorts, since Link is a walking security log.

He relaxes a fraction, and I sense a trickle of gratitude through my bond with Kelly. “Yeah, we’re good. Plane is your dad’s, the pilot is pack, and everything checked out at the Chicago end. Lucas’ top guys will stay here to look after Mrs. Lewis and the rescued omegas.”

I should feel reassured, but if the last few months have taught me anything, it’s that the best laid plans can get blown to hell. “You checked in with Bonnie and Zack?”

The siblings are the unofficial leaders of the omegas who have been staying with us for the past couple of months. They’re the first group to seek refuge at the Ferrier Estate since I’ve been here, channeled to us through Lucas’ contacts in the Omega Underground. The more I learn about what they’ve suffered, the more I admire my father. And the more determined I am to help him form a council of pack alphas who’ll help protect all omegas.

That’s what the trip to Chicago is for. To build a better future out of the ashes of the Dark River Pack, and Roan Risha, the last High Alpha of the east coast.

“They’ll be alright, Elvi,” Link says, and I realize I’ve been gnawing on my nails. I’ve bitten them down to a ragged mess; something my wolf is not happy about at all. “You and Kelly have done a great job of patching them back up.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to snap at him. To rage at the fact they’re hurt in the first place. That they were abused and exploited simply because they’re omegas in an alpha’s world. But that’s a dark road to go down with a guy who sold me to an omega auction a few months ago. Yes, it was to save Kelly, and he’s apologized multiple times, but being this close to so many damaged omegas is making it hard to let go of my own demons.

“Maybe we should go over it one more time.” I catch the slight slumping of Kelly’s shoulders out of the corner of my eye, but cling to my resolve. “If Arben has to spend his night running down our enemies, then we can give up another hour or two, can’t we?”

“Of course, Sunshine,” Kelly says, opening a container of Arben’s home baked sheqerpare, the little syrup-soaked butter cookies we’ve all grown addicted to. “I’ll put a pot of coffee on, too.”

Links’ black eyes cling to mine for a moment, but then he nods and opens his laptop. “Better to be safe than sorry.

Elvi

We finish rehashing our plans at midnight, and I end up sleeping in the omega wing of the mansion, sending Kelly off with Link. He gives me a sad look as we go our separate ways, but I know they’ll both appreciate their time alone together. They don’t get nearly enough of it to keep their mate bond happy, but I’m a greedy bitch when it comes to sharing my Sunshine.

Besides, my plan to spend our last night in the cabin together kind of fell apart when Arben didn’t show. The cabin was his, first – well, after it was my mom’s, when her uncle was the groundskeeper for the Ferrier estate – and every inch reminds me of him. It’s where we stayed when we were first mated, when it was just us against the world. We’ve made love in every room, and our combined scent - sweet musk and smoky leather – is soaked into every surface. It’s my refuge; my soul den. But with Arben out there fighting our battles alone, those safe cottage walls feel like a cage around me.

The omega wing, on the other hand, smells nothing like my mate. Pain leaves a distinct odor on omegas, which most closely resembles scorched sugar. But after a couple of months of making this part of the mansion their own, it’s softened to the scent of bruised rose petals. I’m glad it’s also lost its hospital smell; some of the omegas were injured when they arrived and we set up a clinic at the end of the floor. But the antiseptic in the air dragged me right back to the townhouse in New York, and the last days I shared with my mom.

“No bad memories today,” I whisper to myself as I open my eyes and peel back the thick white covers. Everything in the omega suites has a soothing, neutral tone, which perfectly suits my mood right now. But nothing beats the sight of electric green eyes smiling into mine. I reach out and run my fingers through Rory’s golden-brown hair, playing with the swoopy quiff at the front. “When did you sneak in here?”

“Not long ago.” My mate tilts his head back, practically purring as I run my fingers down his cheek. But then his eyes pop open wide and he shakes off my touch. “But I’m not here for any funny business. We’ve only got an hour to get to the airport, so I’m your wake-up call.”

I quirk a brow at him, because funny business is Rory’s middle name. “No good morning kiss?” He bites his lip, then ducks in for the fastest cheek peck in history. “That’s it? If you want me to get out of this cozy bed, Rory, you’re going to have to tempt me with something good.”

“But I am being good!” He groans like he’s being tortured. “You still have to have breakfast, and if I distract you, Mrs. Lewis said she won’t give me any of her chocolate fudge cookies for the flight.”

I smirk at the thought of my dad’s tiny omega housekeeper withholding anything from Rory. He basically has every female in a one-hundred-mile radius eating out of the palm of his hand. “Okay, but just so you know, I’ve packed extra sheqerpare for the plane…”

“Nope,” he says, even though I can feel his gaze on my fresh bite marks, arousal humming down our bond. “I promised. So you can’t have your way with me, Angel, even if you beg.”

“Really?” I have to swallow a laugh, because Rory is down for it, anywhere, anytime. Even if I wanted to beg, he’s usually got me bent over some surface before I can get my panties off. And so I grab his hand and press it low on my belly, rocking my hips for good measure. “Even if I need you to rub this ache away with your big alpha knot?”

His pupils blow, and he gives a helpless whine. “Fuck. Me. Cam, this is a freaking emergency! Can you distract Mrs. Lewis while I give our girl what she needs?”

I turn and grin at Cam, who’s lying on my other side. I smelled his fresh air and sunshine scent before I even opened my eyes, but it still makes my pulse quicken to find him in my bed. Where Rory leaves me in no doubt of his affection, Cam is quieter, his approach more subtle. But ever since I took his mating bite, I have a new understanding of exactly how deep his feelings run. “I take it you’re the back-up plan?”

“That depends on you,” he says, his pale blue eyes hooded as he studies my face. The first time I saw Cam, I thought he had a surfer vibe with his tanned skin, ripped torso, and messy, sun-streaked hair. It still surprises me to see him with a buzz cut, but since he did it as part of a rescue mission into the Tower, I don’t let on how much I miss running my fingers through those golden waves. “It’s your choice, Elvi. We can go down to breakfast like Rory wants, or I can eat you out here, and we can refuel with sheqerpare on the plane.”

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