Page 49 of Broken Omega

Is she a champion kickboxer or something?

“Geraldine said she’d send you,” the inside guard says. “Come in. She’s in the bedroom.”

He steps back to let me in, and I nod at Henry as I step into the room.

I have instant suite-envy. The living quarters are double the size of my own, but that’s not what makes me jealous. There’s a faint scent lingering in the air, sweet and fluffy and entirely intoxicating to Alphas and Omegas alike.

I doubt it’s strong enough for the guards to pick up, but Alphas and Omegas have enhanced senses, and there’s no way to mistake an Omega’s perfume. Of course, in this case, it’s the combined scents of two Omegas who’ve claimed each other as mates.

This suite is a nest, and it does something depraved to my Omega soul to be standing here, tasting the remains of a claiming on the air. My heart pounds a little faster, my stomach fills with the fast-beating wings of a dozen excited butterflies, and my breath hitches just a little which I cover up with a cough.

“Which room?” I ask the familiar guard.

He points to the door on the right side of the room. I nod my thanks as I pass.

I don’t know his name, but I’ve seen him around. He’s older, and clearly ready for retirement going by how little he appears to enjoy the work. I realize there’s another guard standing at the side of the bedroom door, kind of shrouded in shadow. I get the instant creeps from how emotionally empty he is, and it tells me which guard he is without having to look.

He’s one of Geraldine’s right-hand men. Her hand-picked guards.

Those guys are the worst of the worst. Stone-cold psychopaths, every last one of them.

Why would an empath want to surround herself with emotionless killers?

You know what? I don’t think I want to know.

I step into Secret’s room and place my purse and makeup kit down on the nightstand.

The sound of the shower cutting out in the adjoining bathroom lets me know Geraldine’s men already told Secret to get ready. It’s encouraging that she’s actually doing it, I guess.

I shake out the garment bag, hoping I haven’t crushed the dress on the way over. I try to ignore the feelings that stepping into the suite have stirred up inside me. The last thing I need right now is to develop a crush on this girl.

Despite telling myself that, I go to the bathroom doorway and my lips twitch when Secret steps out of the shower in a hastily wrapped towel. She’s a pretty, little thing with long, dark hair and big, doe eyes. I can admit she’s gorgeous, but that’s as far as it goes.

She reminds me a bit too much of myself when I was younger, I think.

“I heard someone needed help getting ready.”

I dangle the garment bag, as if I’m trying to entice her.

She doesn’t look too amused. “Just leave the dress and go.”

I shake my head. “I’m here to do your makeup. Now go brush your teeth and wash your face. I’ll wait.”

I turn away, unzipping the bag and putting the dress on the bed.

It’s a gold, silk slip dress, designed to make the woman wearing it the center of attention.

I’m sure Secret will hate it. I find out I’m right a few minutes later when she steps out of the bathroom and gives it a look of pure unfiltered horror.

“I can’t wear that.”

I can’t help but laugh. “You don’t want to wear it. You absolutely can. There’s a big difference.”

She tugs a drawer open and pulls out a pair of panties. Plain, white cotton panties.

I capture her wrist in my hand. “Nope. Sorry, no can do. Underwear will ruin the lines of the dress.”

“I’m not leaving this room without underwear.”

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