Page 62 of Wild Omega

“I went into rut, Callisto.” Tears blur my eyes, although they’re a hundred percent the onion’s fault. I sniff and wipe my eyes on my sleeve.

“Really? Damn, man, good for you. First time?”

“Yeah.”

He laughs, and the sound squeezes my insides. “Must have been intense. I remember my first.”

I remember his first time too, mostly because I wanted to be with him so badly I caught sick. “Yeah, it was. Sorta blacked out though.” Years of habit drag the rest of my worries from me. “I actually only just woke up. I was so worried I pushed Red too far, you know? Fuck, if she left now—” I leave my sentence hanging and load the cut onions and garlic into some butter in a pan.

“Sounds like you’ve got it bad.”

I scoff. “You don’t? She’s your omega too.”

“Well—” Callisto sighs. “You know how it is. I didn’t register with the Center for a reason. I’m not ready, Ricky. Maybe after I’ve nailed down this win streak and secured partnership at the firm. Then I’d have something to offer an omega, you know? But I did give her my credit card details.” He laughs dryly. “I wrote in on her arm like a man possessed.”

I lean on the bench and swallow around a thick lump in my throat. So this is why Red looked dazed when she first walked into MoonMugs. The first alpha she met rejected her. I know he can be an insensitive asshole, but this is a whole new level of bullshit.

“Callisto, you know I’m not one to get in your business, but you’re making a mistake.” I ball my hands into fists as a hot fizz boils through my belly. “Red’s worth more than your career, and if you don’t figure that out now, it might be too late.”

I’ll put up with him prioritizing his career over me, but Red deserves better.

My heart pounds forcefully in my chest. She’s hiding something in the way she doesn’t want to talk about her past, but it must be serious if she doesn’t even know her birthday. “I don’t know exactly why, but I don’t think she wants anything from us except for fierce love and loyalty.”

He hums softly. “And an ‘in’ to a movie career?”

I’d kinda forgotten about that in all the frenzy, but as Callisto mentions it, a buoyancy bubbles up in my chest. I can do something helpful for my omega. “That’s not hard,” I reply. Water swishes loudly, drowning out sound, as I fill a pot and set it to heat on the stove. “But even if it was, I’d do it. She’s fun and forgiving and a little wild.” Heat floods my face as I recall our meeting in the cafe. Scratch that—a lot wild. “You don’t want to miss this, Calli.”

He hums reluctantly and says, “I get it. Let me think about it.”

Wrong answer. “What’s there to think about?” I snap, surprising myself by talking back. “And it’s not up to me. She’s the one who decides.” The line goes quiet, and I slump against the bench. How do I tell him not to screw this up? “I’m all in on her, Calli.”

“Yeah, I can hear that.” His cultured voice sounds so good, I suppress a groan. I need to just come out and saylet’s pack up. So why am I hesitating? Maybe I’m as stupid as he is.

I clear my throat and push upright. “I gotta get this food cooked. See you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure.” He’s hesitant again and I wish it was because he’s asking himself the question I can’t bring myself to ask. “Catch up soon.”

“Hope your cases go well.” I’m not sure if he hears me because the line clicks off while I’m speaking.

I shake my head, mourning his absence, even if it’s via the phone. Then I pull myself together and get on with cooking.

The onion and garlic fragrance forms a smog in the kitchen as I add a half stick of butter and then two tablespoons of flour into a separate pan and mash it together before slowly whisking in a whole carton of milk. Some frozen spinach, vegetable stock, and a generously heaped tablespoon of Italian herbs later, and my white sauce forms up. Cheese, spinach, and broccoli pasta bake should go down a treat after a busy night. I’ll throw together a salad for a fresh touch too.

I drop the flat pasta into the boiling water with some salt and olive oil, then go to pour the bacon in with the onion, stopping just before my container tilts. What if Red is a vegetarian? I forgot to ask before she fell asleep. A chuckle escapes me as I realize she probably would’ve been too tired to answer anyway.

“Good going, Rickon,” I mutter to myself. “Way to exhaust your omega on the first day.” Carefully I scrape the onion into a side bowl before heating the bacon separately. It can go on the side instead of in the pasta bake.

I’ll do everything I can for her, even if Callisto won’t.

Chapter twenty-six

Rickon

I’m uploading a selfie of myself in the corset from the filming wrap-up gala onto my AlphaHop gallery—no point in the evening being a complete waste—when Red stumbles out of the bedroom wearing my sweater. An unfamiliar purr works through my throat instinctively as I lay eyes on her.

“Hello, Biscuit,” I say, opening my arms in invitation.

Red smiles sleepily and climbs straight onto my lap. “Hi, handsome.”

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