Page 79 of The Omega Verse

I roll my eyes, but we’re both grinning as he rocks his hips rock forward and I feel his knot breach my opening. It more than stings, and he has to let me catch my breath, but I like the fact I’m working for it. I like the pain of the stretch, and the effort it takes him to force his way inside. We’re grunting and clawing at each other, and I take it as an omen. Because being Jett Colter’s mate isn’t going to come without its challenges. But no one ever accused me of shying away from hard work.

And then he’s gripping my hips, his chest heaving as he plants his knot deep. I’m stuffed so full I can barely move, and I see the wild wolf shine in his eyes as he studies our reflection. He owns me, and I own him. Locked together, bodies trembling, hearts pounding.

“You’re mine and I’m yours.”

He sweeps my hair aside, and I arch my neck, watching as his teeth plunge into my throat. The world heaves and spins, pain and pleasure shuddering through me as our bond snaps into place. And I see every part of him, just as he delves into every dark corner of my soul. He sees me, he knows me, the bits that are me alone, and the few faded memories of my brother.

My eyes clench, tears spilling down my cheeks, because this is proof I barely knew Steven at all. But then I feel an answering clench in my chest. I peel damp lashes open and look at Jett, right as my mind fills with a kaleidoscope of images – some sweet, some bitter – but every single one is of Steven.

There’s enough to fill a photo album, and I gasp, my tears flowing harder as Jett soothes my mating mark. But then I feel my other bonds throb. My mates might not be with us right now, but they’re a constellation of warmth woven around us. Welcoming him. Comforting us.

Reminding us that despite the ache in our hearts, we’re pack, and we’ll never be alone again.

Cass

The rest of the week flies by as the guys get ready for the Hall of Fame awards. They spend long hours down in the studio while I’m at the bakery, and I use the lull in their attention to sort through the backlog of paperwork and get another couple of casual workers on our books. With Dusty planning to go back to uni for his MBA, I realise a decision needs to be made about my involvement in the bakery going forward. I don’t really see how I can be the full-time manager anymore, and when I discuss it with Cookie, she tells me to immediately start looking for a replacement. It throws me into a bit of a tailspin, but the more I think about taking a step back from the only job I’ve ever known, the better I feel about it.

When I get home each night, I’m exhausted from the long drive and barely manage to eat and shower before I fall into bed. Tom is on day shifts, so at least I get to snuggle with him, but between the other guys’ rehearsals, Jett’s nighttime surfs, and my workload, the only puppy pile we get to indulge in is the passing out kind.

Finn Visser calls the day before we’re leaving for the east coast with an update. Celine has agreed to sell him Steven’s unrecorded playlist for twenty million dollars. The news makes me so furious I storm out of the house to go kick piles of sand around and call her every rude name under the sun. When Tom comes to find me, he doesn’t say anything, just letting me spill my angry tears all over his shirt.

We have a plan in place to get the songs back, but I can’t trust that Celine won’t double-cross us somehow. I’ve traded a few terse texts with her to set up her supposed date with River, which has triggered another couple of meltdowns during the week. We might not be mated in the usual pack way, but I feel just as strongly for River as any of the guys. Their date might be a ruse, but the thought of handing him over to Celine still makes me sick to the stomach.

“She’s never going to touch him,” Tom promises as I wipe my cheeks on his sleeve and stare out at the ocean. It’s been a dull, overcast day and the water looks flat and unwelcoming, which is a perfect reflection of my mood. “Celine has put her head in the noose, and Finn will make sure she hangs herself with it.”

I sniff and peer up at him, since Tom’s face is a hell of a lot more inviting than the grey view. “How do you read me like that? I used to be a clamshell of emotions, but you just pry me right open and say exactly the right thing.”

He hums a laugh. “I s’pose it’s our bond, but I’ve been watching you a long time, Cass. I’ve made it my business to know what makes you tick.”

Which is enough to make me drag him down for a kiss. But I can feel the tension in his shoulders and my mood takes another dip. “Then can you explain to me why Finn puts you so on edge? I don’t get it. I thought you guys were friends.”

“Friends is a stretch,” he grunts. “And Finn doesn’t do anything for free.”

“Then what’s he getting out of helping us?”

He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze on Banjo as he chases a seagull down the beach towards the groyne. “He’s got some kind of research project going on. I don’t know much, except that it’s about designation switches…and I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“Oh.” I was definitely not expecting that. “Does he know about Silva?”

“Most likely. He’s not just a security expert, Cass. His background is classified, but I know he has heightened senses, unlike anything I saw anywhere else in the military, plus a talent for designation manipulation. Not to mention the money and connections to get away with just about anything.”

Designation manipulation doesn’t sound good, but I’m also curious about switches. I want to know what it means for me long-term, as well as Silva. “But is he a threat to us? Can we trust him?”

“I think he’ll do what he promised to do. But as to being a threat, Finn is the kind of man who can hurt people without trying.”

That leaves me with even more mixed feelings, but I decide to give it a few weeks and then bring the subject up again. Maybe Tom’s right and we should avoid Finn Visser. But right now, he’s our best shot at keeping both River and my brother’s legacy out of Celine’s vile hands, and that makes him an ally in my book.

Straight after the Friday lunch hour rush, I leave Dusty in charge of closing, and we all drive to the airport with Hoover and what he calls his support team. They include two creative artists, a PR rep who never looks up from his phone, and his assistant Willis. Given Tom and my work schedules, as soon as we land, we’ll be going straight to the awards ceremony, which is being held in the ballroom of our hotel. The next day will be interviews and a photoshoot with several prominent fashion magazines and music reporters. Hoover only has four hours to get the guys red carpet ready, which means getting dressed and media prepped on the plane. To my surprise, that means The Sundowners’ private jet, which is incredibly luxurious, but also has about as much privacy as their tour bus.

“We should go over the media statement about your pack,” Hoover says when we’re all strapped into sleek leather seats and the airport is a tiny speck behind us. “We don’t need to give out a lot of detail, but everyone is going to be curious about your relationship with each other. And of course, how Steven’s mystery sister fits into this.”

He's talking to his clients – Jett and River - but the whole pack is listening in. “What were you thinking?” Jett asks, and I can see a tic beating in his jaw. We talked about this briefly over dinner last night, and Jett’s worried that Hoover is about to throw our pack to the wolves.

“I think we say you’re excited about the future of the band, and with Cass Rain as part of your pack, things have never looked brighter for The Sundowners.”

“Sure,” River says with a smooth smile. “We can work with that.”

Hoover looks surprised, and so am I. Jett called Cory and Rick last night, and they all agreed the band needs to go in a new direction. But I know next to nothing about dealing with the press, so I keep my mouth shut. And their manager is quick to move on to the event schedule. “There will be the red carpet walk as soon as we arrive and then a quick photo op with previously inducted artists on the mezzanine. This will be restricted to the band. Then at eight, you’ll all take your seats in the front row.” He nods at the rest of us, to show we’re included in this part.

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