Page 33 of The Omega Trials: Part Two

Titus waves his arms in a calming motion. “Maybe we should all just go to bed. In our own rooms.”

“I’m not tired,” Ecker and Sinclair say in tandem, then throw each other annoyed scowls.

Ecker rolls his eyes and adds with a fake chipper tone, “Maybe we should break down the Cyans’ door and kill them in their sleep.”

“No,” Titus says without hesitation. “We’re not making any moves while you’re like this. You’re too worked up.” Ecker tries to say something, but Titus cuts him off. “They will get what’s coming, but we have to be smart.”

“I am sosickof this place,” Ecker yells. “And I’m sick of you and I’m sick of you and I’m sick of—” he spits while pointing at Titus, then me, but can’t finish his sentence when he gets to Sinclair.1

He releases one more incensed growl while storming to his room and slams the door behind him.

Fed up and tired, as if having spent the day herding toddlers, Titus groans and rubs his hand over his face. “I’m going to bed too. It’s been a fucking night.”

Then he closes himself in his bedroom.

Sinclair and I sit next to each other quietly on the couch. She looks down at her hands in her lap, picking her nails. I let myknee fall to the side to lightly bump against her thigh in a testing brush.

There are no sparks or crackling of electricity like I’m used to, but there are small fluttering sensations deep in my stomach.

“You’re not tired?” I ask almost awkwardly.

She still has an unsure look on her face but shakes her head. So I stand up and grab a quilt off the back of the couch.

“Come with me. I have an idea.” I offer my hand, and she hesitantly slides hers into mine, a bit of hope beginning to replace the doubt on her face.

When I pull her to her feet, she looks me in the eyes, and something flips in my stomach again.

I may not feel our bond, but I sure as fuck feel these butterflies.

1. Play “Beautiful Things” by Benson Boone through next chapter

Chapter 12

Alpha-Omega

Bishop

Ispread a quilt out on the grass next to a large oak tree.1 Its sprawling canopy hides us in the dark, but we can still look out and see the stars.

Stilted and awkward, I hold my hand out toward the blanket. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Sinclair says softly.

She looks almost nervous as she sits down, tucking her knees under her dress. She still has her swimsuit on, the straps of her bikini top showing through the neckline. I join her, sitting a weird distance apart.

It feels like the time she took me down to the dungeon to first claim her. We were practically strangers, that often felt like enemies, and yet we committed ourselves to each other in the most intimate way.

Are we still strangers? Without her omega nature and our mate bond, is what we have even real?

It’s real for me. But is it for her?

Does she evenlikeme?

The thought is a dagger in my gut. She wanted me to claim her for protection first and foremost. I’m not under any disillusions on how we started. I guess I thought we had become more—aremore.

But the way she’s acting, like she’s scared of her own shadow, uncomfortable around me . . . it makes me doubt myself, my feelings.

All I want to do is push the hair out of her face and kiss each bruise and bump with the promise to never let that happen again. But my mouth is dry and wordless as all these thoughts run through my head.

---