Page 18 of Your Wild Omega

“So, how exactly do you intend to go about leash training a feral alpha?” Callisto crosses his arms as he leans on the bench, watching me eat scrambled eggs on toast from Zack’s lap.

I reach over my shoulder to offer a square of toast to Zack, feeling how softly his lips brush my fingertips as he takes it. Rickon leans one elbow on the table as he eats, and every time his eyes drift to me, they’re dreamy. The three of us slept for sixteen hours and we’ve all woken up in better moods.

Except for Callisto, it seems.

I swallow and lick my lips clean. “Well, I keep thinking about my horse riding lessons. Firmness and treats, Serena says.”

Callisto snorts. “He’s a carnivore, not a horse. More like taming a lion.”

The OCB agent watches us from the couch where he sips his coffee. From the explanation Rickon gave me when we woke up, they’ll be taking shifts to observe us, in case something goes wrong. At least until Callisto gets his rehabilitation license.

I switch my gaze back to the handsome lawyer. He’s really done a lot of favors for us, but he can be super pushy like this, when he doesn’t like my choices. With my film contract advance, I should have enough money to start house hunting, thanks to Rickon demanding a bigger percentage upfront. And yet, if Callisto’s the one getting a license so Zack can live with us, I can’t exactly leave him. And why do I feel glad about that?

“I never said I was going to feed him carrots,” I say, cutting another toast square. “We don’t even know what he likes yet.” I grin and pass the bite-sized piece over my shoulder. “Well, except for me.”

The lawyer rolls his eyes. “Yes, we all got that picture loud and clear, but—”

“Bastard!” The high-pitched squawk comes with a wild flapping of wings.

I giggle, accidentally sending toast and egg flying, before jumping to my feet and dashing over to the birdcage. Rickon's parrot has hilarious timing. “Ozzie! I didn’t even say hello.” I lean down and stick a finger through the bars, and the moody bird immediately bites it. But it’s more of a nibble, so I can see he doesn’t mean to be nasty. Zack’s arms close around my waist, and he growls softly next to my ear.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to let you out yet, Ozzie,” I inform the parrot, who tilts his head, studying the newcomer over my shoulder.

“Oooh, fuck off.” His little green-and-orange head bounces energetically as he cackles at full volume. “Ozzie, Ozzie.”

I chuckle and slide around in Zack’s grip until I can get one arm over his shoulder. “I’m sure that’s his way of saying hello. This is Rickon’s bird, and his name is Ozzie.”

Zack’s mouth moves like he’s trying out sounds, but he doesn’t make a noise. His confusion leaches through our bond.

“Bird,” I repeat once, before scratching Ozzie’s feathered head. “You stay in there until Zack gets used to you, Ozzie. Can’t guarantee you won’t get eaten.”

Ozzie bounces up and down. “Get out, get out.”

Rickon groans and drops his head onto the table. “You’d think he’d only heard insults his entire life.”

Callisto winces. The reaction reminds me Rickon has plenty of pain in his past, and I haven’t even heard all the details yet. My alpha is so generous with me, I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t get neglected while I deal with Zack’s clinginess.

I take Zack’s hand and lead him back to the table, gently squeezing Rickon’s shoulder as we pass. Wariness feeds through my bond with Zack. He’s tense and keeps eyes on the OCB agent and Callisto at all times, but thankfully he feels less chaotic than a day ago.

After a minute of silence as we dig into our food again, Callisto rinses his coffee mug and drops it in the dishwasher, slamming the door rather loudly. “Red, I know you’re enjoying this, but you have to take it more seriously. I’ve done everything I can to get your alpha out of custody, but if he attacks someone again—”

I shoot him my most furious glare. “You think I enjoy knowing my alpha had his humanity beaten out of him? You think I enjoy feeling his fear that everything in the world is out to kill him?” I fist my hands up as bitter heat lodges in my throat.

Callisto wilts, but I’m not done.

“You think I enjoy the way small dark spaces close in around both me and him, reminding us of how people took and took from us until even breathing became unbearable?” My voice rises as the memories flood in, and I grip the table to steady myself. I’m overreacting because I’ve got a live connection to a constant emotional overload—but everything I said is true.

Zack squirms out from under me with a fierce snarl. He squares up, facing Callisto with alpha domination pouring from him.

I smother a groan. I keep forgetting I’m not the only person with a direct link to emotions. Since I’m one of Zack’s favorite things, I’ll use myself as a reward for now. I spin around, balancing my ass on the table.

“Zack, stop,” I say, resting my hand over his mouth.

Surprised, he hesitates and glances at me, blue eyes widening.

“Good boy.” Grabbing his borrowed T-shirt, I tug him down to meet me and kiss him soundly.

Zack braces his hands on either side of me, deepening the kiss, and I lock my arms around his neck.

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