Page 80 of Wild Omega

She shrugs like it’s no big deal, but her hand quivers. “Just a bunch of bullshit psych evaluations.” She licks her lips, gaze hooking into mine. “Swear it.”

I plant my hand on my chest. “I swear on my body and soul, I’ll come for you, Red.”

The tension melts out of her. “That’s good enough for me. This is the favor I wanted to call in from Director Yun anyway.”

I grip her wrists with all the strength I can master. I need her to know the guy who barged in doesn’t have a place in my life. My voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “I broke up with him before I even met you. Believe me, Red. I’d never—” Tears stream down my face, blurring her outline. Fuck. What if she thinks I’ve been playing her? I couldn’t bear that.

Her thumb darts out to press on my lips, silencing me. “I know. You’re wonderful, alpha, so I know you’re not like that. But stop talking now.”

I sag with relief. My omega believes me. She thinks I’m a good person.

Her gaze drifts away from me and she makes a small noise in the back of her throat as she realizes the knife’s still in her hand. She steps back and lifts it for inspection. “You’d make a nice partner for Fabby, but I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here for now.”

Red carries the knife into the kitchen, and I hear the drawer roll open and shut. After another door thumps and she comes back with a bag of frozen veggies, which she wraps in a towel and gently lifts to circle my neck.

When she spins away, I lash out, trying to grab her hand, but I miss. I choke as Red throws open the front door. “Help!” she calls. “We need medical attention in here!” Her voice echoes around the concrete stairwell.

Big figures in navy blue loom just outside the door and I sink onto the coffee table as they enter. The voices blur into a single buzzing mass that hurts my ears. Red shrinks back from the burly alphas and I jump up, trying to reach her, but collide with the corner of the armchair. Red scoops her cherished fork off the floor and drops it into her purse and then flashes me one last wistful smile before disappearing down the stairwell.

An agent rests his hand on my back, calling out to me, but it sounds distant. My body feels numb and lifeless.

My heart aches more than the bruising swelling my throat. I only just found my omega, but now I’ve lost her.

Chapter thirty-three

Callisto

Normal hospitals give me the creeps, but this place is even worse. Nurses push wheelchairs carrying drooling patients, and the ones who can walk on their own two feet laugh at me like they know a joke I don’t. Jokes don’t belong in the Maria Ventiss Hospital.

I suppress a shudder. Lexi Wren, brilliant former managing director of Wren Enterprises, beloved omega of the deceased CEO, and two-time winner of the Laversham Hoofbeats Dressage Cup, does not belong in a place like this. And yet here she is, in room thirty-nine. At least it’s a private room in a wing that smells less like Clozapine and more like lavender.

I balance my flower bouquet in one arm as I knock on the door. Should I just enter? Is that what family does? They know I’m coming, after all. Funny how I’m the king of any courtroom, but in this situation, I feel like I’m twelve years old again.

The door slides open, and Lector chucks his chin at me in greeting. “Hi, Callisto.”

I nod once. “Hey, Lector.” It shouldn’t feel this awkward; I saw him just a few weeks ago. But that was at the Wren house and this is here, in a hospital. New dark circles shadow his eyes, and belatedly I lean in and squeeze him around the shoulders. I’d rather see him than Simon.

Mom sits in her hospital bed, doing a word search puzzle. She smiles brightly as I approach, but she watches me with wariness. I recognize that expression from years of depositions with clients who are hiding something.

“Hi, Calli.”

“Hey, Mom.” I lean down to hug her one-armed around the flowers. She feels thin and smells a little sweaty. “I brought you these to cheer you up.” My stomach sinks as I look around and see several bouquets already filling vases on every available surface. Maybe I should have bought a bigger one, or fruit.

“They’re beautiful.” She dips her nose in to smell the liliums. The small motion exposes her chipped, unpolished fingernails. Her makeup sits a bit thinly too, like she’s done it in a hurry.

I glance away. For most of my life, Mom’s been the affluent, put-together executive, but it all fell apart once she lost her first bond mate. I get that people grieve, but how do they fall apart so completely? It’s been ten years.

Mom hands the flowers to her pack mate and he shifts them to a narrow bedside table where they compete with purple irises. Lector perches on the side of the bed and takes her hand, stroking the back with a loving gesture. A pang of guilt vibrates through me. I should’ve just taken her hand instead of silently critiquing her lack of a manicure.

Am I really that judgmental? I prefer to think of it as having attention to detail, an essential trait in my line of business.

“How are you feeling, Mom?” I ask, shoving my mental block away.

“Doing a little better.” Her smile looks forced.

Since Lector seems settled on her bed, I drop into the spare chair nearby. “Any news on when you’re getting out? I bet you’re missing your own bed.”

“Well, end of the week, most likely. After I’ve caught up on some sleep.”

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