Page 143 of Citius

“What the hell is wrong with your family?”

My clawed fingers fumbled with the cap of my migraine medicine, frustration building as I stood barefoot in Cal’s too-white kitchen. The soft undercabinet lighting illuminated the space, fending off the worst of my pain, but did nothing to calm my urge to smash the container against the countertop.

“Did Heather try to run off all your other girlfriends, too?” I asked. “I get wanting to protect Spencer, but even if she had a legitimate reason to dislike you—which shedoesn’t—approaching someone like that is insane.”

My unsteady hand slipped off the bottle, but that didn’t deter me from trying again.

“Could you imagine if we weren’t involved? You could have gotten into major trouble. Doesn’t she understand what an accusation of omega harassment could do to your career? And to think I felt bad for her. Fuck that.”

Cal had long since muted the highlights of the football team’s victorious away game on the living room television. Instead, he sat on a barstool at the kitchen island, his chin propped in his palm, watching me with a dopey smile.

As if my rant had somehow bewitched him.

“What?” I asked, shoulders sagging in defeat.

“Just thinking about how pretty my girlfriend is.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Who’s your girlfriend?”

“You said it, not me. Heather couldn’t have scared off myothergirlfriends if I don’t currently have one—which would be you.”

“Cal—”

“Yes, Heather can be incredibly selfish.” He calmly took the pill bottle from me. “Which is partly why I’ve never been serious about someone before you.”

I stared at him in awe, feeling humbled. “That’s—but you’re—you.”

“My alpha isn’t any less picky than your omega. More than happy to wait for the perfect partner to come along.” He twisted off the bottle cap with ease. After knocking two pills into my palm, he offered a forced smile. “My mom had an airtight pre-mating agreement. I’m set for life. But if I had to choose between the money or still having her and my grandparents with me…”

“Know what you mean.” I swallowed the pills with a mouthful of water. “I loved—loved—the speed, the height. Beating gravity at its own game. Winning. And in less than a second…” My tense fist exploded into fragmented fingers, miming the way my brain splattered against the confines of my skull. “It was gone. There are still days when I’d do anything to bethatMorgan again.”

Cal opened his arms, and after behaving the entire night, I was more than willing to step between his thighs and burrow into his embrace.

“My family did everything possible to help me pick up the pieces,” I said. “They would never actively make things worse—or harass random strangers. I just don’t get it.”

“I’m sorry about Heather,” he murmured against my hair. “My entire family is wound up right now, especially her. So, ignore her bullshit. I do.”

“I’m probably her worst nightmare,” I said with a dry laugh, hands running along the solid planes of his back. “Two decades of planning, clearing every obstacle for her son—and then you show up at a gala with an omega right after your grandfather goes into hospice.”

“Showed up with my girlfriend, you mean,” he teased, fingers trailing across my hips. “But she deserves to sweat a bit. Heather has never believed I’m not interested in the company—when she should be thanking her lucky stars that I’m not trying to burn it down.”

“Would you?”

“Only if it wouldn’t ruin the livelihoods of tens of thousands of people. For all their faults, my family is very good at business. That’s why I don’t want Roddy to get his hands on Verray. He’d ruin it, and it wouldn’t be fair to the employees.”

“I hadn’t thought about that.” Of course, Cal—my noble, newlyanointed boyfriend—had considered the larger picture.

My fingers slid into his hair, and I kissed the underside of his jaw, wishing the brief contact was enough to taste his pheromones.

“Are you sure Spencer wants to take on the responsibility?” I asked.

“He’s never said otherwise, but he tries not to rock the boat when it comes to Heather and Anya. I think he’s planning to run things for a few years, then cede operational control to Heather. He’d remain the largest shareholder and board chairman—then piss off to Belize or something. Even head honchos can work remotely.”

“That’s rather brilliant.”

“Comes by it honest. A true chip off the old Chaz.”

The only appropriate response to his corniness was apained groan.

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