Page 23 of Wild Omega

He nods. “You and me both. I’ll be heading back to Darinian tomorrow, but I want to see these bastards put away for life. Get whatever you need from me tonight, and after that I’ll be available by email.”

I strip off my jacket, liking the no-nonsense air circling in the room. “I’ve got my files, so point me to a workspace and I’ll get started filing submissions.”

They set me up in a side room and I open the first box of evidence. Golden liquid inside a stack of glass vials sloshes as I pull it toward me, and my stomach knots up. Pure haze. I whistle softly.

“Forty-three vials,” an unfamiliar voice announces behind me.

I twitch and spin to face the doorway.

The woman smiles lopsidedly. “Avery Brown, paralegal. I’ll be your gopher in the department. Go for this, go for that.”

I introduce myself, shake her hand, and then turn back to the box. “Forty-three? Are they all from the same omega?”

She digs into the box and pulls one of the glass vials out. “Catalogue it, and then we’ll send it to forensics to confirm.” Avery uncaps one lid, and a sweet scent fills the room.

My cock hardens instantly, and I groan. Heat rushes up my neck, and I slap a hand over my mouth.

She winces. “Sorry, I didn’t think it through.” She takes a quick sniff, then puts it back in the box. “Horrifying when you think of that much haze taken out of an omega against her will. And no chance in hell they did it nicely.”

A sudden visualization of an omega pinned down on a bed flashes through my mind, and I stagger. My head aches as I drop into the chair, feeling a little faint. I’ve only been thinking of these cases as words on pages, but the reality is, the captured criminals held omegas against their wills and did unspeakable things. Because of these brutes, an omega has been denied a regular life and a chance at happiness with her pack.

I curl my fingers into a tight fist. “We’ll make them pay,” I promise darkly.

“Definitely. I’ll, ah—” Avery hesitates, and then spins on her heel. “I’ll give you a few moments before we get started.”

Because I have a raging boner and nowhere to hide it in tailored trousers. Heat flares in my cheeks as she leaves me alone in the tiny room with a box full of the most delicious scent I’ve ever sampled. And the only illegal kind.

“Shit!” The hard-on won’t go away, not with that scent lingering in the air. I get up and switch on the ceiling fan, feeling the pressure against my cock tighten with every step.

Ricky would laugh so hard at my predicament. Maybe I’ll see what he’s up to later. The thought cuts off as my eyes stray over the mountain of boxes related to my assigned cases. I’ll be buried in here for weeks, not to mention the actual prosecution, and tonight’s the only night I can ask Agent Andrews questions about the raid. Ricky will be fine. He always is.

With a sigh, I grab my jacket and hang it over one arm to hide my ridiculous tent as I head out to find a bathroom, making a mental note not to uncap any more of that haze. I’ll leave it to the forensics department to uncover which omega produced it. My task is to put the perpetrator away, not get hung up on the abused omegas.

Chapter ten

Rickon

I used to love filming and dread all the action ending, but this time around I breathe a sigh of relief as the director approves the last scene take. Set pack-down begins immediately, even as the actors are still coming off the stage. We’re on schedule, but somehow it feels like it’s been longer than twelve weeks.

When did my job turn from something I loved to a chore? Probably around the same time I started working for this black-haired diva.

Lyra strides off the stage and throws her jacket at me. “Rick, I need a dress for the wrap-up gala.”

I freeze in place, staring at her. “I put that on your to-do list before filming began.”

She shrugs. “Well, I’ve been busy learning lines and shooting, haven’t I? Isn’t that your job, anyway? Nip down to Sorentito’s and find something they have left over from the Winter Collection.” She arches a brow. “Couture only.”

Chills run through me like I’m coming down with the flu. “There’ll be nothing left, Lyra, since literally everyone wants her formal wear.”

She huffs out a big breath and shakes her head. “Damn, Rick, why do you have to argue about everything? Do you even want to work?”

I swallow down all the sharp retorts that come to mind. “I’ll see what’s there.” Worry stirs in my stomach as I hand her clothes to the costume team and catch a bus uptown. I’m underdressed for a visit to Sorentito’s, since I needed to be comfortable on set. After a pit stop in a metro bathroom to comb my hair and check my eyeliner, I head into the showroom of Laversham’s top fashion designer.

As I expected, it’s crowded, all three private dressing rooms in use.

The sales attendant who comes to greet me assesses me with an unimpressed gaze. “Do you have an appointment, sir?”

I shake my head. “Unfortunately not. Can you squeeze me in?” She opens her mouth with what is undoubtedly a refusal, but I rush through. “It’s for Lyra Gray, for the end of filming gala.”

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