Page 55 of Fallen Omega

Yeah. Not sure about that one.

Me, being the male beauty in question, is bothered and then some.

“Are you still mad?” I ask.

Dante raises a brow. “Fuck, Knight, I don’t know. Hey, Reap, you think I’m still fucking furious at this asshat?”

Freaking hell, but Reaper moves like death itself. Cold and silent. One minute I’m in my suite, and I’m aware that Dante walks in. Just, but I was aware.

Reaper? Not there and then boom, present. No awareness. Nothing. That psychopath is on a different plane of existence.

He’d also kill me in a blink, then not lose a second’s thought about me. Or anyone.

Except, perhaps, Dante.

The man with the scarred face, who’s a bonafide pussy magnet in all the ways a magnet works, eyes me. Reaper then moves about the office. “Yes.”

I breathe out, tap out a tattoo on the arm of my chair. “She’s been in there for three days. I can’t really smell her anymore.”

“That’s a lie.” Dante glances at the three computer screens, and then at the laptop that has something else on it. “She’s got a potent scent and for some reason, we can all still smell her.”

“It’s not my fault.” I shrug. “That’s not how bites work.”

“You had to fucking do it, didn’t you?” Dante asks.

“Hey, I didn’t fuck her or knot her.” I smirk. “That’s worth something.”

“A stay of execution.”

I shoot the filthiest look I can at Reaper for the comment. He’s joking. Is he joking? Does the man joke? Fuck.

“It’ll wear off. Right?” I look from one of them to the other, and they exchange a look of their own. “What?”

Like, yeah, I’m younger than them, and way prettier than them, but I’m not a child. I’m thirty-two. Not five.

I’m not telling them I got Darcy to bring Liz a super-soft blanket for her heat. Just like I’m not mentioning how I feel both bad and not bad I bit her. I waver on that.

What I do know is I can almost feel her, and every now and then a twinge hits me, like a sliver of her heat somehow infiltrates me.

“Did you get something on her and the Council?” Dante asks.

“Not really.” I turn, pick up the laptop and hand it to him as Reaper slides deeper into the office in my suite, gaze on one of the bigger screens. “It looks like they don’t have much. Only that her father was shunned—and they have him listed as Connor Roth. She’s unregistered and has an interviewscheduled this coming week. She’s twenty-one and they want to mate her with some dick named Craig Edmonton who’s about a thousand. He’s an alpha of a small pack of no consequence.”

“So nothing we didn’t know already.” Dante frowns. “Why give her to them, to him?”

“Wrong question,” says Reaper quietly. There’s a cigarette behind one ear.

I almost tell him not to smoke, but if he’s going to, he will, so I leave it. Reaper’s a definite “choose your battles” kind of guy.

“Maybe,” Dante says. “But I know how the Council operates. She’ll be considered a prime cut of meat. A gift for a bigger outfit, one that’s either got an alpha ready to move on and start his own pack, or where he’s poised to take over. Fuck, I’m shocked they don’t have a mating war for her.”

“Mating war?” I look at him with a frown, uneasiness spreading through me.

“Where they do their version of speed dating, only to see who matches with her in soulmate terms.” Dante taps on the keyboard of the laptop.

Reaper’s got a book in his hand. I didn’t even notice him picking it up. He doesn’t glance up from the page. “Or they match her to the highest bidder.”

I cough. “Bidder?”

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