Page 3 of Power Shift

“They’re thirty-six, like him, and have known each other for the past five years,” I add.

Her nose scrunches. “Thirty-six? Have they ever had an omega before? Five years isn’t that long.”

“Don’t say thirty-six like that. They’re still pretty young. We’ll be there before we know it.”

“Twenty-five, Briar. You’re twenty-five. They’re over ten years older. And you didn’t answer me. Have they ever had an omega before?”

I set my deodorant down and brace my hands on the countertop, leaning closer to the mirror. My pale blue eyes are dull today. I’d love to say that it’s more noticeable due to the pink in my cheeks, but it would be a lie.

Truth is, I’m still tired from my last heat. Not just the lack of sleep but the lack of intimacy. I’m tired of being alone and having to spend a week locked up in a room with an alpha who’s paid to please me or, like my most recent heat, alone with a thrusting dildo. I want something real.

My heat only made that yearning inside of me worse. I’ve never been so bone tired after one before. It was like I gave more than I had in me and got nothing in return for the last time.

“No, they haven’t had an omega. Greg is nice, Clove,” I mutter.

“Yeah, I’m sure he is.” She finishes getting changed. “Get dressed, Bee. We’re going to get some ice cream. No more alpha talk.”

I blink away from my reflection and at hers instead. “Isn’t that the worst thing to do after a workout?”

“Why else did you think we worked out if not so we had room to scarf down bad food?”

Ice cream sounds really good right now. Anything frozen does.

“Alright. Give me five minutes.”

“You have three,” she barters, kissing the top of my head and wrapping an arm around me in a quick hug.

I sigh, fighting my first instinct to nuzzle into her. I’m too close to reaching touch starvation status, which is only yet another reason why I need Friday night to go well with Greg. In a perfect world, he’d bring me home to meet his pack, and I’d get to spend the night snuggled up in bed with all of them.

That could be moving too fast, but in my mind, it’s the perfect pace. I’ve known Greg for a few weeks now, and if his pack is as great as I’m hoping they are, there won’t be any need to go slow. I’m ready for this. Ready to be a pack omega.

With a new pep in my step, I change out of my damp clothes and follow Clover out of the studio, more excited than ever for Friday night.

2

JASPER

I’ve always loved hockey.

I don’t love the violence the way Ronan does or constantly strive to prove I’m better than my father was like Landon. Unlike my pack brothers, I enjoy the way hockey makes me feel free.

With every push of my feet, I feel like if I could just go abitfaster, I’d be able to fly. The stick in my hands feels weightless, and the fans chanting our team’s name in the stands disappear completely.

I’m not the fastest player in the NHL because I just really love the burn in my lungs or the constant risk of injuring myself. I’m the fastest player because I want to do something incredible.

That’s who I am. The guy who doesn’t settle for anything less than the best. There isn’t one person out there who knows me who isn’t familiar with that quirk.

The boards get closer and closer as I hesitate to slow my speed. I’m heading for them too quickly, but the uneasiness brewing beneath my skin is distracting. I was hoping practice would have helped dissolve it, but it’s almost worse now than the last couple of days.

The sweat dripping down my neck and beneath my jersey is like liquid fire. My lungs constrict, trapping my breath inside as I turn my feet and force myself to stop with only an inch between my body and the boards, snow flying.

“You’re going to break your ankles stopping like that,” Landon bites out, mouthguard hanging out of his mouth. He narrowly avoids plowing into me, a slight tick in his jaw the only sign of his frustration.

“And you’ll break a tooth biting on that thing like a chew toy,” I return with a shove against his shoulder.

“Is this the part where I lick your face?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t.”