Page 128 of Your Wild Omega

I blink open to find Rickon sitting cross-legged beside the couch, his laptop open on the coffee table in front of him.

“I’m dry as a bone,” I croak out.

He chuckles and passes his water bottle over.

Zack murmurs in his sleep as I slip off his chest and settle on the floor beside Rickon. “What time is it?”

“Not quite midnight. You want to eat something?”

I shake my head and lean on his shoulder. “No, not this late. Are you working?”

“Yeah, I’m writing articles. If we get them sent out tomorrow, with any luck we’ll make Friday’s news.”

I chuckle sleepily into his neck. “I’m so glad I’ve got you.” A snort of annoyance escapes me as I remember my dinner date. “I hated the way he talked, as if you didn’t know how to handle this stuff.”

Rickon bumps his shoulder into me in silent acknowledgment.

“I only need you and Zack,” I muse, letting my eyes slide shut. “And Callisto,” I add softly. Relaxed and warm under my blanket, with my pack’s scents filling the house, and the faint murmur of my missing alpha in my head telling me he’s awake, everything feels possible. Safe.

I can finally bare my soul to the first man who ever accepted me.

“Ricky, I never told you this, but for years I’ve heard my alphas’ voices in my head.” I touch my fingers to my forehead, tapping lightly. “Not saying any words but making a soft murmuring.” I shift my hand to rest over my chest. “Like the bond, but in sound instead of this sensation. Even before we met and I didn’t know your name, I could tell when you were happy or miserable. I felt when you were angry. That’s the reason I collapsed that day at the courthouse, because it was like you were shouting right in my head.”

Rickon’s arm snakes around me, and he presses my head to his chest. He doesn’t seem shocked at all. “Thanks for telling me.”

I look up. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

He smiles down at me and tucks hair behind my ear. “Kind of, yeah. Your psychologist mentioned it once when she was preparing me to bring you home, and you confirmed it at the Wrens’ house.” Rickon chuckles softly. “Though you totally threw my dignity under the bus to cover your slip-up.”

I flush. “Sorry about that.”

He squeezes me and snorts with amusement. “I’m teasing you. They’re my family, so they were going to dig for every juicy detail, anyway.” He kisses my hair and sighs. “Truth be told, even before that day I sensed something more, in the way you were so sure I was your scent match, and how you went looking for Zack in prison. There had to be something mystical drawing you.”

Of course my darling alpha figured me out. And as always, Rickon doesn’t judge. What was I ever worried about? He can handle all of me, as can Zack.

I chuckle and dig my nose into his shirt. He lost the corset and leather topper during our frolic, but he’s still wearing the silky gray shirt with the ruffle down the middle and I like the slippery material brushing my skin. Maybe this is how other omegas feel about pillows.

“Rickon,” I muse, chasing that thought.

“Yeah?”

“My heat will be here soon.”

His arm tightens around my shoulder, holding me up. “How do you feel about that?”

“I’m scared,” I admit. “But it doesn’t feel so much like a looming chasm that will swallow me whole. I want . . . Well, I think with you guys here, I might handle it okay.” Maybe.

He twists and tugs me up over his knee so I’m sitting on his lap. “I believe in you, Red. It might not be perfect, but one day you’ll look forward to your heats. We’ll do them together, and you’ll cry because you’re happy, not because it hurts. I promise you, Biscuit. We’re right here for you. Always.”

I wrap my arms around him and hold tight, emotion welling up inside. The best part is, I don’t have to tell him; he feels it too.

I lean back, sniffing down the feelings threatening to pour out of me. “No matter how things turn out with these articles, it felt good to take action.”

Rickon smiles, the laptop screen reflecting in his eyes. “That’s all you, sweetheart. You wanted something to change, and now it has. You’re setting boundaries.”

I stare down at him. For so long I’ve pushed painful problems away because I wasn’t strong enough to deal with them on my own. But I’m not alone. If I can face my heat, isn’t it possible Ican face the other thing that torments me? Take action instead of cowering in darkness?

Ricky’s gaze slides away, and he brightens. “Oh, we forgot about this.” He pushes the big white envelope across the coffee table toward me. “That’s Callisto’s handwriting.”

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