Page 30 of In Control

I wonder which one brought her home.

Messed-up waves of chestnut hair frame her face – hair that says she’s been playing around with one of my alphas. The pink flush of her cheeks confirms this.

She has cheekbones to die for, kiss-me lips and big blue eyes.

She’s the kind of girl any one of them would go for.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing?”

I rest my hand on my hip and watch as her gaze flicks down my body. Then her nose twitches.

“What’s your name, PLT?”

She stands up straighter. “Sophia.”

“And who do you belong to?”

An adorable crease forms between her brows.

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

“So should I be calling the police?”

She stares at me blankly, and this is fun. Toying with one of my alpha’s one-night stands is a perfect hangover cure. Perhaps it’s a little cruel, but as lenient as I am when it comes to my mates’ dalliances – after all I indulge in my own without any complaints from them – jealousy and spite are a hard battle to fight.

“Police?”

“Girlie, if one of my alphas didn’t bring you home, I can only assume you broke into my house.”

“Your house …” The cogs in her mind whir and I wait patiently. “You’re the packs’ omega.”

Bingo.

I don’t respond. I’m intrigued to see how this will play out. Will she fall to her knees and beg for my forgiveness, or will she come at me all snarls and protruding claws? That’s what she’d do if she were an omega. But my packmates know that’s not part of the deal. They can have their fun outside our pack, as long as it’s with betas and not omegas.

I’m the only omega in this pack.

“I came home with Liam,” she says, simply. No tears, no challenge either. “He failed to tell me he had an omega.”

I tilt my head, taking in her pissed-off expression. It’s cute. Has my cock stirring.

“Would it have made a difference if he had?”

“I’m no home-wrecker,” she snaps.

I fling back my head and cackle, my hangover fading.

“You’re not wrecking anyone’s home, PLT. Liam can screw whoever he likes. He’s his own man. I don’t keep him on a leash.”

“You don’t mind?” Her eyes grow impossibly wide.

“Why would I mind?”

“He’s your alpha.”

“You betas,” I say, nudging her to one side to claim the coffee waiting beneath the machine. I cradle it in my hands and sigh with satisfaction as the bitter flavour hits my tastebuds, and the caffeine my blood. “You think you understand us, but you never will.”

The crease is back. Oh, she doesn’t like that. Interesting.

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