Page 64 of Captive Omega

“If there’s not enough room, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to sit in my lap.” Vaughn winks.

All betas are safe except this one. This beta is decidedly not safe.

But only for my hormones.

Chapter 18

Resa

Before I put one foot on the ground, the front door swings open.

Everleigh is wearing a knee-length black lace dress with her white-blonde hair French-braided. She bounces in place, as if she can’t stand still for even a second.

In the cells where they kept omegas, ready to trade for the auction, she was terrified, her skin flushed, green eyes panicked, and her omega pheromones growing stronger from the drug the Asylum staff inject to trigger heat.

But this Everleigh?

The Everleigh standing at the front door of Pack Ashe’s mansion is a different version of the one I met in the Asylum’s cells.

And despite my unshakable belief that the only good alpha is a dead alpha, I can’t help but notice the way three certain alphas are smiling down at her, as if her happiness is infecting them with the same. She doesn’t see the way they’re focused on her, but I do.

Pack Ashe.

It seems like they named Ever Safe after her. I left the TV on in my room as I flicked through the Jerome Walker case file while I waited for Lex to bring me clothes. If I can believe everything I saw on TV about the city’s newest free heat clinic, Pack Ashe haven’t taken one step inside it since it opened its doors. They have a beta managing day-to-day operations.

I have a feeling a certain flirtatious beta is the one in charge.

“Resa?”

I get three steps closer to the front door and that’s about as much as Everleigh can take. She throws herself at me, hugging me so hard she nearly knocks me over. Only Vaughn’s hand—don’t ask me how I know it is his—on the middle of my back stops Everleigh from tackling me to the ground.

She was slim before, maybe a little too thin. Now she feels softer and a little curvier than she was before.

My eyes briefly connect with the three big alphas in the doorway as soft classical music drifts out. They nod once, but don’t stare. Almost as if they know I have no love for alphas and never will.

“You got out,” Everleigh breathes, tightening her arms around me.

Not knowing what to do with my arms, they just hang there, as awkward as I feel.

“How about we take this inside?” the big alpha with the southern accent suggests. Rune Fontenot. A reporter said he was the previous CEO of Ashe Investments. Makes sense the biggest alpha would be the one in charge. “And, cher, you’re squeezing the stuffing out of our guest.”

Everleigh releases me in a rush, eyes wide with apology as she backs up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Hurt me?

“No.”

But hugs are… new.

They didn’t use to be.

When I was Theresa Mora with a fiancé, parents, friends, and a life that wasn’t all that exciting, hugs weren’t anything new at all. I didn’t appreciate what I had until that first week when I lost everyone I loved.

Conscious everyone is watching me, I drag a smile to my lips and nod at the house where the music has transitioned from classical to jazz. “Has the party started?”

The alpha with the quiet, serious demeanor nods once. Cian, I think, is his name. “Just about. Did you want to talk to Everleigh somewhere quiet?”

“The office,” Everleigh declares, snagging my hand and tugging. “Come on.”

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