Page 51 of The Omega Trials: Part Two

Penelope and Twelve help Paisley and me scrounge together some old gas lanterns and hang them from the trees over the dock for our impromptu “Sticking it to the Elders” party.

Griffin was right. Once all the alphas took to their knees, the Elders were faced with two choices. Either they fail every pack but the Cyans and lose an entire generation of Echelon members or they spin it.

They chose to spin it, claiming the request for permission was actually a test of their loyalty to their pack all along, not to the Echelon as it was presented.

Everyone saw right through it. We all knew that was not their original intention, but we beat them at their own fucked-up game.

“How much beer do you think we can sneak out of the kitchen?” Paisley gives her attendant a conspiratorial smile.

“We can acquire anything you’d like, ma’am. If we don’t already have it, I can send a driver into town as well.”

“Ooo.” Paisley claps her hands together. “What if we do margaritas?”

“We can certainly do that.” Twelve bites back a smile before heading off with a polite nod.

By the time everyone else arrives, the last of the sunset has faded behind the tree line, and the dock is illuminated by the fun and nostalgic light from hanging lanterns. We have a small bar station set up for margaritas and palomas, and Penelope recruited the bartender from the brotherhood night. There are a few floats available, but with the sun down, no one is going in thewater, myself included. Even though I wore a bikini under my clothes just in case.

Instead, we congregate on the dock, drinks in hand, with good-spirited music playing from speakers. It’s almost like we’re a regular group of twentysomething-year-olds enjoying a chill lakeside party.

“You did good, baby girl.” Ecker comes up beside me and hooks his arm around my neck. He grabs the side of my face and pulls me toward him for a drunken kiss. Warmth floods my body at the immediate reaction I feel from him through the bond. Being able to feel someone else’s desire for you is such a heady, intoxicating feeling.

I taste lime and tequila on his lips. When we pull apart, I tease him. “Where’s my drink?”

“You want one?” His eyebrows raise in question, even though his eyes themselves are half-mast and lust-filled. I nod and he winks. “I’ll be right back.”

He comes back with the entire bottle. He holds it up and flicks his chin at me. “Open.”

“No.” I laugh.

“Fine, then we’ll do it my way.” He smirks devilishly then takes a big swig straight from the bottle before fisting the back of my hair and yanking my neck back. The movement makes my lips part, and he further opens my mouth with a thumb on my chin.

Heat pools in my belly as his wicked eyes meet mine and tequila spills from his lips into mouth. Once I swallow, he lifts my head back up and dips down to whisper against my lips, “Next time, that will be one of my brothers’ cum after I lick it from your dripping cunt.”

My cheeks burn, and he must be able to see it even in the dim light because he laughs warmly. “God, I love making you blush. It’s so fucking hot when I can see exactly how much I affect you.”

I shove him playfully in the chest, and Titus and Bishop join us.

“So, we were talking with Griffin and Noah, and we realized we may be able to switch up the outcome of the Intelligence Trial like we did today,” Bishop says.

Titus adds, “Yeah, you know how they acted like giving us the Berylls as a target was this big exception?”

“They gave that same spiel to the Berylls about us, didn’t they?” I ask, unsurprised.

“Yep.” Bishop nods. “What if the whole point of the Intelligence Trial was never to gather information on outsiders. What if it’s always been about digging up dirt to keep us in line? Think about it, what better way to keep the rank and file from acting out or rising up than to be able to blackmail them from the start?”

“Damn.” Ecker exhales, impressed. “That actually makes a shit ton of sense.”

I nod in agreement. “So, what’s the alternative plan?”

“We get dirt on the Elders instead,” Titus says then snatches the tequila from Ecker and waterfalls a pour into his mouth. My eyes catch on his veiny hands wrapped around the bottle neck and the sharp, square angle of his jaw as he tilts his head back.

Has he always been this beautiful?

Of course he has, except his shitty personality has always shown through. But after visiting my grandma, I’m beginning to wonder how much of that was all an act.

Ecker’s smokey chuckle pulls me from my thoughts. “Careful, Ti, Sinclair’s lookin’ a bit jealous of that bottle.”

“Oh, shut up,” I scoff and lightly slap his shoulder.

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