Page 29 of Into the Fire: Before

Sure enough, at the top of the page sat, in big letters, M-A-S-H. The last three letters had all been X’ed out, and she’d circled the M multiple times. Below were several groups of names or objects, all but one crossed out. Categories ranging fromDream CartoCelebrity Spouseto fuckingFinal Meal.

Incoherent as the scribblings were, they were also familiar. Familiar enough that the tension evaporated from my shoulders.

I sighed, shaking my head and rolling my eyes. “I don’t have time for schoolyard games, Omega.”

A kitten-like growl emanated from the omega in question, and I hated myself for finding it just a little bit adorable.

“First off,youdon’t get to call me ‘Omega.’ And second, it’s not just a schoolyard game, Cranky Caine. The MASH gods never lie.”

I practically strangled myself trying to hold back the laugh bubbling forth as I handed her notebook back to her and returned to the window. “Really? Do I strike you as a Spyder type of guy?”

“You strike me as an asshole, and unless they make a breathalyzer for that I don’t see why you couldn’t be.”

And just like that, the air soured with my annoyance again. “Yeah, well, the asshole is almost done here and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You keep working, I’ll read it aloud,” she said, waving me off without a care in the world as she lounged back on her couch. I smothered my sigh as best I could, turning to the final window.

I could’ve been done hours ago. Hell, the first window alone—the one I’d finagled with for more than an hour—I could’vefinished in a quarter of the time. Yet I couldn’t force myself to work faster, no matter how much my brain yelled it to my hands.

My alpha liked her smell. Same as Brea’s. I hated him for it, tried desperately to suppress the bastard to the point that I could do my work as quickly as possible and escape the confines of her apartment. Bad enough I’d passed a mortifying hour inhaling Brea’s tangy pomegranate aroma, but at least the office had neutralizers on full blast.

No such mitigation here. Taryn’s sticky sweet scent permeated every inch of the apartment.

Even when she’d begun her annoyance crusade, while the man I was grew more and more agitated, my inner alpha wagged its tail. He basked in her attention. He preened to have it undivided, her entire focus on him. I tried to quell him, to remind him that she had an alpha—afemalealpha, at that. For all we knew, this omega wanted nothing to do with knots and ruts.Ididn’t want anything to do with knots and ruts.

He wouldn’t listen.

So here we still were, sunlight slanting through the windows I’d steadily sanded and unstuck, as the obnoxious, intoxicating omega read out the details of my supposed future.

The worst part of it all? The only headache that had bloomed after I left this morning’s appointment—gone within five minutes of entering the Maddox apartment.

Brooks will be insufferable about this.

“Your career,” she read out, “says you’re meant to be an airplane pilot. I mean, never too late to learn something new, I guess.”

I scoffed. Fat chance, given the fact that I could barely climb a ladder without getting woozy.

“What?” she asked.

“Not a goddamn thing,” I murmured, continuing my work.

She shrugged, returning her gaze to the paper. “And as far as kids—”

“Nope,” I said, turning and striding across the room. “Finished.”

“Hey!” she shouted as she sprang from her seat.

Fucking omegas. Nothing but babies on the brain.

“Fucking excuse you, Cranky Caine,” Taryn said, standing, “don’t act like youknowme somehow.”

Must've said that last part out loud.

This omega wasliterallydriving me mad.

“Then tell me something, princess. Surprise me.”

She crossed her arms, eyes sharp and narrowed. “How’s this for surprising? I spent my morning at a protest downtown.”

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