Page 42 of Royal Omega








Chapter Eighteen - Conrad

Igrab Henry by thearm and pull him into my bedroom. As I slam the door behind us, I take another deep breath: he reeks of sex and fucking honey and ginger. It mixed with the peppermint to produce a scent that is nothing short of torture.

My mind flashes back to the way Carissa looked when I confronted her. The horror in her eyes. The despair when I mentioned my parents. I’ve been playing it over and over again in my mind, trying to make it make sense. Is she really that good an actor... or is it possible that she was telling me the truth?

Every time the doubt starts to bubble up in my mind, I push it away. She can’t be innocent. After all this time, after everything I’ve put into this... it just can’t be.

But smelling Henry and Carissa together, imagining them both in the throes of passion... it’s hard to get my head on straight.

“What’s going on, Conrad?” Henry says, feigning a casual stance even as his eyes glint with mischief.

“You smell like her,” I grit out.

“I do,” Henry says, jutting out his chin as he stares into my eyes. “She was the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Whatever your problem is with her, Conrad, you’re going to have to get over it. Ransom and I, we want her. We want her with us. She says she didn’t do any of that shit you said she did, and we believe her.”

I snarl and turn to punch the wall. The dry wall around my hand cracks, and my knuckles throb. Turning to face Henry, I push him back against the wall, my hand at his throat. I can smell his arousal, mixed with Carissa’s sweetness, in the air around me, and it makes me crazy.

Without thinking, I let my vulnerability show. The question that’s been running through my mind slips from my mouth: “And where does that leave me?”

Henry smiles, and lifts his hand to my cheek. I loosen my grip on his neck, but don’t pull back all the way. He’s more muscled than me; if he wanted to, he could probably break my arm. But he stays where he is, caressing my cheek until I’m on the verge of purring.

“Conrad, it leaves you where you’ve always been; at the heart of this pack. You just... need to open your eyes to who Carissa really is. She’s not what you thought she was. Just talk to her.”

I let go of him, and turn away, pacing the floor. “I did talk to her.”

“And?” Henry crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall, looking as at home here as he does anywhere. He’s so damn confident; so full of life and joy. What the fuck could he possibly want from someone like me. “Conrad,” he prompts me. “What did she say when you talked to her?”

“She denied it. All of it. Said that I just disappeared, and she didn’t even know my parents were dead.”

“And what if that’s true?” Henry asks.

I give him an angry look. “It can’t be true, don’t you understand? It can’t be true.”

“Because if it is, then you’ve spent years of your life being consumed by hatred for a person who didn’t deserve it?” Henry asks.

I tighten my hand again. “She does deserve it,” I snarl. “You don’t know her.”

“Neither do you, Conrad. You’re going to need to let this go.”

“And why the hell should I do that? We’re here because of me. Because I wanted my revenge. Did you forget that? Are you such a slave to your cock that you can’t use your head?”

Henry grins. “Maybe you should be more of a slave to your cock,” he says. “Maybe you should find something sweet and sink into it.”