Page 57 of The Omega Project

My throat is raw with emotion, and I watch Dee swallow hard as her gaze drifts back to Jacob. Finn is clearly offering the kind of financial security she’s never been able to give my nephew,and I know how tempting that must be. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but can you let me think on it for a bit?”

“Of course.”

“I do have one favour, though.” Dee drops her voice, and I know what she’s going to ask by the shadow that seems to descend on her. “My pack. You said you’ve read everything about me, so you must know about Chris and Abel.” Finn nods and she threads her fingers together, squeezing hard. “If your connections could find out anything about Abel, I’d appreciate it.”

Finn studies her for a moment, then sticks out his hand. “I’ll have a report for you by the end of the month.”

She accepts his handshake, then collapses back onto the lounger like the air has gone out of her. “Okay.” I wait for more, but she just takes a deep breath and gives Finn a small smile. “Welcome to the family, I guess.”

Emily

The next week flies by, even though Finn and Creed are called away for a business meeting in New York. It leaves the rest of us to settle into our various routines, which in my case is work, study, and Biscuit. Derek is still busy with his hacking assignment, but he makes time to come to the library with me and even gets into the habit of making little origami mice for Biscuit to play with. Instead of going back to the office, Creed gives me remote access to the project database, and Soren and Lang help me work through the data, tossing around hypotheses that usually end with me examining Soren’s body in minute detail while Lang licks me to orgasm. When we’re done with our various work days, we all cuddle on the couch and watch Netflix, Biscuit carrying the soggy remnants of her paper mice from one lap to the next.

By the time Friday rolls around, we’re all at a faculty dinner to celebrate the launch of Lang’s latest book. It’s our pack’s coming out in a way, and while there’s not a lot of press for a non-fiction book on the identification of human remains through field-based DNA collection, a couple of cameras are pointed in my direction. I keep a polite smile pinned to my face, although I let a little smugness leak out when Lang takes me onto the dancefloor. I can feel all the envious eyes turned my way, and for once, I quite like being the centre of attention.

After dancing with all the guys – and a quick make out sessionwith Lang near the bathroom for old time’s sake – we return home full of champagne and pheromones. While Lang takes a shower and Derek checks on some algorithm he’s running, Soren and I end up in the pack bed, a sleepy Biscuit sprawled between us. Soren smells as delicious as ever, although there’s a hint of sweetness to his scent that makes me wonder how close he is to another switch. My heat is officially over, and while I’m no longer leaking slick, one glance at him in his dress shirt and his bowtie hanging loose makes me want to lick him from head to toe. “You’re okay?” I ask as we play with Biscuit’s velvety paws. “No pain?”

The smile he gives me could be framed and hung on the wall next to my Viktor Rees. “I’ve never felt better.”

“Then do you think…?” I’m not sure how to put my yearning into words, so I decide to just spit it out. “I want you to bond me, Soren. Like this, so you can be my alpha.”

“Really?” He sits up and scoots closer, jostling Biscuit who climbs off the bed with a dismissive swish of her tail. “I want that more than anything, Emily.”

Relief floods through me and the warm bond in my chest flares brighter. The thought of Soren biting me – that we can claim each other in the most primal way – is a heady one, and I lick my lips. “Even though things still aren’t settled between you and Creed?”

Soren smirks but then reaches up to twist one of my curls around his finger. “We’re good, I promise. But how about we call him and see what he thinks?”

Anticipation trickles through my blood like warm honey. “Won’t he be in meetings?”

“Sweet girl, he’ll shut down the company for this conversation.”

“Okay. Then let’s call him.”

While Soren grabs his phone, I smooth out the comforter and then do the same to the velvet dress I wore to the faculty dinner. It has a square neckline and full skirt and is a shade of raspberry that Soren said works perfectly with my hair. I’m not sure about the blush that’s spreading over my neck and shoulders, but he gives me a hungry glance as he settles back on the pillows with his iPad. “I thought face-to-face would work better,” he says, propping it against a cushion. “You okay with video?”

I nod mutely, since the call is already connecting, and the next moment Creed’s face fills the screen. I can see enough of his sweat-sheened neck to know he’s not in a business meeting.

“What’s wrong?”

Soren rolls his eyes at his mate’s curt tone. “I thought you were over there working, not goofing off in the gym.”

“Just took a few folks through a command resistance session,” Creed replies, turning his phone so we can see a group of about eight people milling around behind him in athletic wear.

“Oh,” I splutter, my blush spreading. “No worries. We can talk tonight.”

“Uh, over my dead body,” Soren interjects with a heated look in my direction before returning to the screen. “How fast can you get some place private?”

“Five minutes,” Creed’s dark gaze flicks between us. “I’m in the hotel gym, so I can head straight back to my room.”

“Great. Don’t dilly-dally, big guy.”

As Soren ends the call, I collapse back on the pillow and he pounces with all the enthusiasm of our origami-addicted cat. He immediately starts licking the untouched skin of my neck, and I clutch his shoulders, my toes curling. “He’s going to say yes,” he predicts, running his nose down my throat and breathing me in, “but it’s going to hurt him.” When I pull back in alarm, hechuckles. “Because he’s not here, I mean. That man wants to bite you more than one of Lang’s high-protein muffins.”

I snort, but the butterflies are back in my belly when Creed calls back a couple of minutes later. He’s slung a white towel around his neck and is sitting on the edge of a typical, if sumptuous, hotel bed. The pool of light cast from the desk lamp turns his skin a deep, honey brown. What I’m not expecting to see is Finn standing beside him, his pale eyes drilling into the screen.

“Oh,” Soren says softly, some of the cockiness fading as he stares at Finn. “You brought reinforcements.”

“You sounded serious,” Creed replies. “Is everything okay?”

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