Page 105 of Your Wild Omega

“Love you too.” The line clicks off.

“I’m good, thanks,” I say, brushing Brad’s arm loose and gripping the side of the cart.

He smiles sympathetically. “Feeling any better? That looked like it hurt.”

I lift one shoulder. “Well, I don’t think anything’s broken, but the bone wizards will let us know soon.”

“Bone wizards?” He snorts with amusement.

Yeah, I enjoy making people react. Even handsy alphas who don’t know how to take a hint. Perhaps that’s why I love acting: love me or hate me—by which I mean my character—people are feeling something when they watch movies. Not to mention how I’ve learned pretty much everything I know from video media.

“Seems like you’re getting along well with your alphas,” Brad remarks.

“If by well you mean in love and bonded, then yes.” I drag my riding skivvy down to reveal the bite scar, the only one of my scars I’m proud of.

His brows pop. “Well, that escalated fast. Is that Rickon’s?”

“Nope. It’s Zack’s.”

His gaze roves my neck, and I release the stretchy fabric to cover myself. The slimy fucker’s brows lift. “Yet you can’t tell them the truth about falling off a horse?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” I snap back, pain shortening my temper.

“Okay.” He shrugs his handsome shoulders. “Sorry, I was just concerned. I suppose that feral wouldn’t understand, anyway.”

Yeah, right. Concerned about how his so-called charm isn’t working on me, perhaps. I look past him, scanning the racing track buildings. “Thanks, but no need to worry about me.”

His face shutters, but we arrive at the med bay and his reply gets cut off. Still, I know what he’s thinking. Rickon and I have spoken enough about Zack while on set, answering curious crew members’ questions, for everyone to know Zack’s a reformed pit fighter. Which makes him dangerous and undesirable to most.

But not to us.

The medical staff onsite won’t let me go until I’ve had a full checkup, during which we discover a massive black bruise on my calf. Good luck to me for hiding that from my guys for more thanthirty minutes. At least I’m wearing riding pants in most of my scenes so it won’t be visible on set.

An hour later, I head back to the track and the staff member in charge of all the horses walks up to me. “Feeling okay, Red?” he asks.

I shoot him a lopsided grin. “I’ll live.”

He nods. “I’ve taken plenty of spills off horses myself. It’s not exactly fun.”

“Was kinda fun before the landing part,” I say.

He chuckles. “Can I recommend paragliding instead if you want to fly?”

A snort escapes me. “Noted.”

“I came over because if you can still move around, it’s important to get back on a horse as soon as possible after a fall. Otherwise some riders develop a nasty fear of falling.”

I hold up one finger. “Just to be clear, it’s the fear that’s nasty, not the actual falling?”

He nods, flashing dimples as he smiles. “That’s right. Puts a dampener on the sport, and horse riding is one of the greatest pleasures this world offers.”

I spread my hands helplessly. “Well, we can’t be missing out on pleasure, can we?”

The man laughs. “I like your attitude, Red. It’s refreshing after working with so many actors who get caught up inside themselves.”

“You mean ones with bodies insured for millions who don’t want to get their hands dirty? Yeah, I’m not that sort.”

He winks then turns away, calling for a groom. A minute later, I’m eye-to-eye with a brown horse sporting a long white blaze down her forehead. She seems taller than the horses I’ve ridden before, and I gulp down a mouthful of nerves.

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