Page 108 of Citius

I set my phone down on the table and met his gaze, deciding it was time to come clean about the pall my family still cast over my personal life. “Heather’s the other reason I’ve never mentioned Morgan. I trust you guys—implicitly. But Anya got on Morgan’s case already, and that was just for having a business dinner with Owen.”

Yeah, dinner and a searing kiss, followed by swift rejection. But we could omit that for the time being.

“The last thing Morgan needs,” I continued, “is for Heather to approach her in a parking lot. Like she did to Talia after her promotion. Unfounded rumors ruin omegas.”

Thankfully, my deputy administrator was a badass beta with a sense of humor—and a pair of hulking twin alpha hockey players for mates. She shut Heather down with one sentence. Even Owen needed two to tell her where to shove it.

If only Heather didn’t have great kids and a decent pack, I wouldn’t hesitate to cut ties for good.

Joaquin shoved his shaggy hair out of his face, visibly irritated—not at me this time, but on my behalf. Still, that didn’t mean I was out of his crosshairs.

“You should’ve followed the original plan and joined the pack when Spencer turned twenty-one.”

“I probably should have, but I still don’t want to make waves until after Grandfather passes.”

Joaquin’s laugh was dark, tinged with morbid amusement. “You sure y’all are paying for the best cardiologists? They gave him months to live, what, eight or nine years ago?” He took a sip and flashed a wicked yet oddly understanding grin. “But I get where you’re coming from. If you showed up to Thanksgiving with a top-tier omega like Morgan on your arm, the shock might just kill the old bastard.”

“I won’t drink to that... But I will admit you have a point.”

We shared a good laugh, which worked like a pressure valve, allowing Joaquin to mellow out. The acrid spice in his peppery scent eased, but not enough to erase the lingering hint of disappointment.

“Have you gone off the thought of joining us and just don’t want to admit it?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual despite the caginess in his eyes.

“I don’t know.” I focused on the ruined coaster, peeling away another strip of cardboard rather than meet his gaze. “I’m not sure Morgan’s interested in a pack, Joaquin. Asked her about it once. Didn’t seem soldon the idea.”

He snickered into his drink, shaking his head. “Nah, she’s too much of a family-friendly babe not to want one. I think she’s justresistantto wants.”

Joaquin was insightful, but I hadn’t expected him to have such a clear read on Morgan. I was curious if our observations aligned.

“What makes you say that?”

“You don’t develop a game face like hers because you don’t care. It’s because you caretoomuch but don’t want other people to know.” Joaquin let out a raspy chuckle. “She wanted to win every time she competed—but she could never let on. Heaven forbid an omega admit to being a competitive little demon hungry for more gold medals.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Can you imagine having to triage every single word that comes out of your mouth for designation-correctness? That’s gotta get old.”

“Makes sense,” I said.

“But it’s this.” He tapped the corner of his eye. “Her gaze gives her away. It’s too focused sometimes. Too fiery. Almost spiteful. There’s a lot that woman doesn’t say. Probably even more that she doesn’t do. Her self-control is frankly terrifying.”

Our server returned with the calamari. The aroma was impossible to resist. Indulging in a few piping hot pieces of greasy octopi goodness, I digested his words—and the thrill they sent through me.

Joaquin was serious about Morgan.

“You honestly do like her. And not just because Alijah does.”

“Is it really so hard to believe?” His smile was a masterpiece of predatory triumph. “My babe’s the best, and he only gets the best. It should go without saying that Morgan is also the best. Of course, I like her.” Shifting closer, he lowered his voice. His dark gaze was as intense as it was scheming. “And Iwanther—for us.Allof us. The dream team: you, me, Alijah, Wyatt, and Owen.”

“I said something similar to Wyatt.” My voice came out quieter than I’d expected, almost breathless, as a disarmingly clear vision of the future knocked me sideways—the future I wanted desperately.

The six of us, together. Gathered in her living room after a football game, the crackling fireplace and easy laughter warming the air. Alijah perched on the arm of the couch, excitedly showing off his photos of the winning touchdown while Joaquin lounged nearby, showering him with praise while absentmindedly teasing the cats. Owen sitting in the reading chair, sharing an intriguing insight from PheroPass. My fingers caressed Morgan’s knee, a quiet claim, while Wyatt’s strong hands worked thetension from her shoulders.

And Morgan, at the heart of it all, her amber eyes glowing with adoration as she looked at each of us in turn, her unguarded smile full of contentment.

Joaquin took a long swig of beer, then planted his elbows on the table and unleashed an almost alarming amount of devilish determination.

“So, let’s do it—get our girl, and nail down this pack. Starting at the housewarming.” He ticked off each point on his tattooed fingers. “Make sure she always has a drink. One of us is always by her side, dazzling her with our wits, charms, and all the seductive trimmings. And you and I? We’re getting cleaned up.” He gestured to our respective unkempt heads of hair. “And after that, be helpful neighbors. Kiss-up to Kelsey, take out their trash, walk her to her car in the morning. Hell, I bet you and Alijah can find a ton of ways to slip her snacks or drinks at work.”

He angled the neck of his beer bottle toward me, eyes rank with mischief.

“A full-court press, or whatever the football term is.”

---