Page 117 of Your Wild Omega

A wry smile possesses my mouth. Who am I kidding? I’m a vest guy, and I wear a suit jacket most of the time. “It will be fine,” I tell Juan. I’ve already decided I want this reminder. “So what kind of background do you recommend?”

He hums under his breath as he retakes his seat and sifts through his photo books. “You’re not a skulls guy and we don’t want flashy things that detract from the clocks.” He points out a few with roses, running water, and geometric lines for inspiration.

“How about nuts?” I mutter, tracing the images.

He blinks at me several times. “I did not take you for a dick art kind of person, alpha. My mistake.”

Heat rises on my neck, and I hold up my hands. “No, I meant like macadamias and almonds.” Representations of Red’s scent.

Juan stares at me until we both laugh in embarrassment. He swipes at his brow as if removing sweat. “I’m so glad we cleared that up before I started drawing.”

“You and me both,” I retort, a flush blazing in my cheeks.

He grunts softly. “Moving right along . . . Nuts would be extremely hard to do well and still see at a glance what they are, but I can try. Anything else?”

He’s still turning pages, and I catch sight of a long flowering branch. I slip my hand into the page before he turns it over. “This?”

“Plum blossom.”

I nod. “I like that. And how about honey?”

After a minute of digging, he turns his folio around to show me a photo of a dripping honey dipper. “That could fit next to your new clock in this space.” He circles the gap left by offsetting the clock.

I watch his pen flash and twirl as he adds the cherry blossom branch behind the two clocks and the honey.

“This is only a rough sketch. I’ll do a couple of designs and see if I can get the nuts to work.” He flashes me a sly grin. “Edible type only.”

That’s a slutty joke waiting to happen, but I leave it alone since we’re both already thinking it.

“Thanks, Juan. I appreciate it. I’ll wait to see the designs.”

“One more question.” He presses his pen tip to my elbow to stop me from rising. “Should I leave room for a third clock?”

My gaze slides down my arm. I already messed up with my scent-matched omega. I can’t picture myself with anyone else to create the joyous moments I’d rather have tattooed here, instead of these painful ones.

But when I open my mouth to say no, a different story comes out. “You never know what might happen,” I say.

Juan nods, dimples showing. “That’s true, alpha. The future is a mysterious beast.” He stands up and stretches. “We’re all done here. I’ll send you the designs and you can let me know.”

My phone vibrates and when I see it’s from Hale, I excuse myself and flag down a taxi while answering.

Hale doesn’t even bother with greetings. “Callisto, minor problem.”

His dry tone says it’s not small at all, and an uncomfortable buzz in my chest revs into gear. “Lay it on me,” I say, wishing I didn’t have to hear bad news.

“The courthouse clerks screwed up. They scheduled the State vs. Fibbistachi case but the notification seems to have gone AWOL.”

My inner nervous static explodes into an entire hive of activity. “When?” I grind out as I open the taxi door.

“Two weeks.”

Fuck me.

“And that’s not the worst of it.” He pauses for breath but then plunges on. “And he’s got Pike defending him.”

I freeze, balancing over the curb, one foot in the car. Suspended in purgatory. My hand curls into a fist as his words echo through my stunned brain.

“Did you hear me? Pike, as in Antonio Pike, the—”

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