Page 28 of Unhinged Omega

"It's in a hidden fucking drawer!" I bellow.

He ignores me, looking around at the mismatched furniture and picking up a throw pillow with his fingertips, his aquiline nose wrinkling slightly in disdain. "I see you've… redecorated."

"Your mother ever tell you if you don't have anything positive to say, you should just shut the fuck up?" I ask, leaning against the edge of the sofa.

"Don't know, closest thing I ever had was a Madame," he muses, squinting around the room as if he's trying to focus. "It… isn't as sticky as it looks like it would be?"

I take a deep breath. If that's his attempt at nice, I'd rather him just be an asshole.

"Raven, why are you here?" I demand, lowering my voice. "And what's all this about you getting dumped by some omega?"

I'm expecting him to tell me he fell for one of the girls at his club who turned out to have a jealous husband who doesn't like to share. He's always had a thing for other alphas. To be fair, he likes omegas, too.

Anything with a pulse, really. Although he's been known to check out statues.

But something's different this time. The mask slips, and suddenly, the Raven I know with his swagger and sharp edges is gone. In his place is someone I barely recognize, raw and vulnerable in a way that makes me deeply uncomfortable.

I hope he doesn't cry again.

Fuck, I'm bad with crying people.

"She didn't dump me," he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "I didn't even have time to get her name. But she was the most bewitching thing I've ever seen."

I raise an eyebrow, torn between amusement and concern. "You're this attached to a woman you haven't even properly met?"

Raven sprawls out across the couch,mycouch, shiny leather boots and all. "Time has no meaning in the presence of a goddess," he declares, his voice rising as he gazes wistfully up at the fluorescent light bulb dangling from the ceiling. "I knew the moment I saw her—no, the moment I caught her scent—it was meant to be."

Yeah, continuing this conversation in the office was the right choice. He's already making a scene.

"Must've been some whiff."

"You have no idea," he says in a hungry tone I've never heard in his voice before. Needy, sure. Horny? Almost always.

But this is something different.

Something I'd rather not have happening on my couch.

"Just tell me what's going on," I say, keeping my voice gruff. "Preferably without the theatrics."

Raven's silent for a long moment, his head lolling to one side. When he finally looks up, his eyes are red-rimmed and glassy.

"She was right there under my nose," he says quietly. Reverently. "The most perfect being I've ever laid eyes on. Silver hair like moonlight, eyes like amethysts. All plush curves and the most glorious ass this world has ever seen."

"Yeah, that's real poetic," I say flatly. "Most of it. But you're surrounded by beautiful women on a daily basis and god knows enough of them fling themselves at you. What makes this one different if you don't even know her name?"

"Her scent," he repeats, sitting up and running a hand through his tangled golden hair. There's an intensity in his gaze that catches me off guard. Shrewd and wolfish. "It was like nothing I've ever experienced, and you know I've tasted, smelled and touched every manner of debauchery this world has to sell."

"She'd better smell like fucking filet mignon if you're goin' on this much about it."

"Moonlight," he answers, and for the first time since he came prancing into my life with a fucking grenade launcher on his shoulder, he's stone cold serious.

Which is funny, considering that's one of the more ridiculous things he's ever said. But the glare he gives me when I can't help but laugh confirms he's not joking.

"Moonlight? You mean her hair, or the way she smells?" I echo, trying not to sound like an incredulous asshole.

It's not going well.

"You'd understand if you were there," he snaps, drifting to that far off place the next instant. "Or maybe you wouldn't."

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