Page 33 of Deadly Ties

I grimace at the picture he’s painting, but he just shrugs. “I spent most of my time just hanging out with the other two omegas. Every couple of weeks, all the heirs were brought together. Bisha gave us a pep talk and any news he wanted to share from the outside world, but mostly I think it was just to check we were still alive. Some of the guards were real wankers, and one in particular was always hanging around. He said he fancied me, and he would get me out of there if I took his bite. Rory found out and nearly killed him, and then Link said we needed to take away the temptation. He claimed me and told the other guards I was off-limits. We were locked up, but it wasn’t forever, and Link was a Hila. They knew he’d fuck them up if they tried anything. They didn’t let us room together, but they left me alone. Well, up until Bisha sold me off to Crouch.”

He shakes his head, straightening his shoulders as he pushes an omelet-filled plate in front of me, keeping the smaller portion for himself. “But enough of that. We’ve got stuff to do.”

I poke my fork at thestuffin front of me right now. “Okay, what are you thinking?”

He moans as he gulps down a mouthful of the white mess. “Food,” he says around an enthusiastic swallow. “Sleep. Exercise. And shifting training, if you’re still offering.”

I grin, ready to get started right away. “Of course. Let’s do it.”

He tuts and points his fork at my loaded plate. “Eat, first.”

“Okay,” I grumble, “but instead ofexercising, can we have a pampering day? The bathroom here is cool, but the omega suites havehot tubs. And so many bath products, we could start our own salon. Or is that a bit girly for you?”

“You sound like Tasha, one of the omegas from the Tower. She was always fantasizing about bubble baths and bitching at me to give her a head massage…” The smile slips from his face and he picks up a cell I didn’t notice on the counter. “It’s Rory’s,” he explains. “Cam is looking for her contact number. I heard she was sold around the same time as me, and I want to check in on her.”

Oh, shit. “I’m sorry, Kelly.”

He gives me a look I know too well. Rage and grief, all tangled together. I’m pretty sure it’s the look that was on my face when I first met Rory in that hotel elevator.Don’t think about that now, Elvi.Instead, I gobble down what’s left of my eggs and grab his hand. “Okay, then we go see Ferrier. He’s got all sorts of contacts who can help.”

He follows me to the door, although I almost trip over my feet when he says, “And then maybe we can take that bubble bath together while we’re at it.” He chuckles at my stricken look, then pulls me in to nuzzle my temple. It puts me close to Rory’s bite, and as mixed-up as I feel, a wave of calm washes over me at the mingling of their scents. “Angel… I haven’t had sex in a year. The idea of you touching me again, maybe down on your knees with my cock in your mouth… Well, it’s up there with the four of us fucking until we all pass out from too many knots.”

I tilt my head back to stare into his hooded eyes, not hiding my shiver of anticipation. “Me, too.”

“Then I hope we get there, and soon. Both you and me alone, and in the middle of a fuck-ton of knots. But…”

“Link.”

He nods, leaning forward to brush his lips over mine. “And Cam. But Link is going to be struggling. He might not know who gave me my second bite, or how, but he’ll know that I like it. He’s got to think I’m moving on.”

“Crap.” I hadn’t thought of it that way. Link was out of his mind when he thought Kelly was locked up and helpless. How will he feel now, knowing his mate has found a soft place to land that’s not him? “Then you need to get in touch with him soon, Kelly, He’ll be going out crazy.”

“I know. And while he deserves it for what he did to you, I’m not that cruel.”

I smirk, trying to lighten the mood a little. “Rory’s cock would beg to differ.”

But Kelly backs me up against the door and takes my chin in his hand, his whiskey eyes searching my face. “Tell me something, Angel. Were you tempted at all? When I asked you to taste him? Is there any part of you that wanted that with Rory?”

Shit. From friendly handjobs to flashing my soul. “Of course. A lot has happened in a short time, Kelly. I didn’t know those guys a few weeks ago. And… things were said. Promises made. I’m angry, but…”

“You’re hurt and disappointed. I know. Rory and Cam told me we were going to be one pack. Yours and mine together.”

I nod. “And I honestly can’t tell you if I still want that with any of them.” I feel kind of shy as I add, “Other than you, I mean.”

He swipes a thumb over his red bite mark, but then pulls me in close. “I’m putting you first, Angel. Like you said, omegas have to stick together, but it’s more than that. I don’t know if I knew you were an angel before I heard your name, but you were exactly who I wanted to be standing behind me when you killed that guard. You’re under my skin, Angel, and bites or not, we’re a pack of two. The others have to earn their place.”

“Make that three,” a sleepy Arben rumbles from the bedroom doorway, “and if it’s knots and head massages you’re after, I’m more than happy to serve.”

Kelly

That offer from Arben, while sleep-rumpled and heavy-eyed, takes up permanent residence in my brain over the next few days. At his direction, we all camp out of Ferrier’s French Folly, as I like to think of it, since even my father’s mansion in Kent didn’t have eighteen bedrooms for a regular residency of one. Although, it seems the Alpha of Boston runs an omega halfway house when he’s not hosting his long-lost daughter and her tagalongs, so I guess the extra space comes in handy.

We spend the first afternoon in a room on the third floor that doesn’t look like it’s been used in a while. Maybe omegas in hiding aren’t all that into what he calls the entertainment salon, a massive space with polished floors, adjustable lighting, and comfy couches everywhere. One half of the giant room is dedicated to every distraction you could imagine – from gaming consoles, to a full library, to an art studio set up in a corner. The other is what Angel instantly dubs the Pampering Palace, which is a bit like walking into a day spa in a posh hotel, with everything from mini treatment rooms to a menu of wellness packages you can book on a screen mounted on the wall.

Everything feels so big and shiny, it takes a while to get my bearings. But since Arben and Rory seem happy staking out the billiards table, I let Angel talk me into a full wellness treatment. Within minutes of making our selection, a group of therapists in white uniforms appear from an internal elevator. They’re all betas and so professional it’s hard to take offence as they gasp over the state of my hair and skin. But three hours later, we’re chatting like old friends, and I look as glossy and pampered as the girl lying on the massage table next to me.

We’ve been scrubbed, waxed, peeled, polished, and deep conditioned, and my bones feel like soup under the hands of the masseuse. “What’s next?” I slur to Angel, who’s groaning as her own therapist works on the knots in her shoulders. “Gold leaf gilding?”

“It would match your hair,” she murmurs back, then rolls her head to look me over. There’s appreciation in her eyes, but concern as well, like she’s making sure none of this is too much for me. Trauma can be hard to spot, even in yourself, but I’ve never felt further from an omega rage. It’s nice someone gives a damn, but the truth is, I’ve been dealing with some kind of abuse all my life. A breakdown is not on the menu. “I thought we could practice shifting for a while,” she suggests, cocking one of her extra silky brows at me. “The guys want us to hit the gym later, so I think we’ll need a nap after that.”

---