Page 21 of Your Wild Omega

I glance at the quivering alpha beside me, whose gaze locks on the agent’s raised hands. “Yeah, I think so.”

Hope springs up in my chest. We might face an uphill battle, but essentially we just need to replace all the awful things those bastards made him do with life skills that make him feel good and secure. I know how terrible it feels, living on constant high alert.

Rickon beams at me. “You’re his omega, Red. You’ve got the best chance of making Zack feel safe.”

I nod and hold my hand out for the collar, and Rickon unbuckles it. I’m not crazy, at least, not about this. With a smile,I touch the leather ends to Zack’s neck and murmur, “Welcome to your crash course for humans, alpha.”

Chapter eight

Callisto

Aden Parker, the managing director at Laversham’s Harkman and Laurance Legal branch, removes his reading glasses and stares at me. The frost in the atmosphere matches the look in his eyes. “Callisto, when I put a lead lawyer on a case, I expect that person to give it his all, not disappear on leave, chasing drama all over the country.”

I lock the fingers of one hand around my other wrist behind my back and hold his gaze. “You know I’ve barely taken any leave in the past, Parker,” I say.

He scoffs. “And that’s exactly why you’re on the rise, but that won’t be the case if your professionalism evaporates. Do you think I brought you here to hear excuses?”

“No.”

Parker’s a hardass. Everyone says so. The only reason I rarely get the sharp end of his tongue is because I work like a dog with nothing else to do. Never bothered me before, but today I can’thelp wishing I were at home to see what Red’s doing with her feral alpha.

Parker taps a finger against his mouse, glancing at his computer screen. “I’ve had a complaint about your absenteeism. Are you going to lead these OCB cases, or should I put Lyle in charge?”

I stiffen. The sensations I’ve always thought of as my lawyer “edge” rise, increasing my sensitivity to noise, light, and his facial expressions. Increases my edginess, too. Who would’ve believed it was such a fine line between extreme alertness and a panic attack? Not me.

Someone making a complaint rubs me the wrong way. I’m certain it can’t be clients, because I’ve prioritized their calls and emails. The two lawyers I’ve been working with haven’t said anything to me, but they’re the only two people who’d benefit from my reassignment. But this is Red’s case, and no way am I handing it off to someone who just wants to tick the boxes and put it behind them.

Red deserves justice, and hell will freeze over before I let those bastards who hurt her weasel out of maximum sentencing.

“I’m fit for the task,” I grind out. “I won’t let the firm down.” Or Red.

My boss leans back in his chair, arm crossing over his chest. “What’s your win streak right now, Callisto?”

“Ninety-three, after the Yarril case.”

He purses his lips in a silent whistle. “Then you understand I’m saying this for your own good, right? Pull your socks up and don’t drop the ball now.” He snaps his fingers toward the door in dismissal. “Get on with it, then. Time’s a-wasting.”

Which is why it’s a waste to even call me in, but he’s obviously wanting to bust my balls as a reminder of who’s the boss. I nod and leave his office, closing the door quietly behind me. Someone at Aden Parker’s level can bill a thousand an hour,which means he just lost eighty-three dollars talking to me for five minutes, not to mention my own lost time.

Time is money, after all. I’ve always lived by that creed. Holding in a sigh, I brush my hand against my left shoulder, stroking over the clock tattoo under my shirt that freezes time at the moment of my dad’s passing. I’ve always spent as much of my time working as humanly possible. It felt like a consuming urgency.

But now my internal compass point is shifting. I can’t concentrate on my cases, my mind wanders, and even my words feel more labored.

All because of one redheaded omega living in my home, currently training her pet wild alpha.

I brush hair off my forehead and speedwalk back to my office. Hale leans back in his chair, reading printed case notes with a highlighter set between his teeth.

I rap my knuckles against the high-topped counter running the length of his desk. He waits a moment, his eyes tracking across the page to the end of a sentence before they lift to meet mine. He blinks a few times, and it’s like I can see the cogs in his brain running down and reversing direction as he switches his attention to me.

“If you had a problem with me, you’d tell me to my face, right?” I ask.

His brows pop. “Indeed.” He reaches for a sticky note stuck on the desk's recess. “Yesterday, you took nine minutes to return my call. That’s four minutes too long.”

I smirk. “Sorry.” Hard to tell who’s working for whom some days.

He nods once. “Do better. Anything else?”

I brace both hands on the countertop. “What’s the best way to punish Quinton and Lyle?”

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