Page 29 of Your Wild Omega

Zack nuzzles my ear, making me chuckle. I click across to the calendar, and sure enough, an entry for a meeting today blazes there in blue glory. A quick Omoogle brings me back plenty of results for Hannah Sorentito, and it turns out she’s kinda a big deal.

An image flashes into my mind of the first day I met Rickon and he took me to his apartment. In that crowded sewing room was a thick dress bag with the same calligraphy “H” logo on it. A mistake, he called it. My excitement at finding my scent match prevented me from asking further questions.

I close the laptop lid and shove it across the bed. Zack peels my shirt collar aside and presses his mouth to my bond mark. Heat flushes through me, heady and tempting, but I press his forehead to move him away.

“Not now, tiger,” I murmur huskily. “Rickon needs us.”

“Ri.”

“Yes, well done,” I praise. Every new word he attempts fills me with hot pride. “Rickon. But I’m sure he won’t mind if you call him Ri.”

Zack tugs me back against him. “Mine,” he says proudly, nuzzling against my ear and breathing deep.

“I am,” I agree, stroking his hair. I don’t correct him. To Zack, my name isMine, and that’s all there is to it.

He purrs happily, and dives his nose through my hair, tickling.

The way he breathes me in, tasting even without his tongue touching my skin, is so sensual and special. Like my scent is his favorite brand of oxygen. Like he wants to possess everything, even the traces of haze that escape my skin.

As much as I want to turn and merge our bodies together, we don’t have time. I unwind his arms from around me. “We can do that later, Zack. For now, let’s go see what secrets we can find.”

In the small storage closet at the end of the hall, I climb over boxes full of Callisto’s books to the more jumbled collection of Rickon’s things. The big dress bag lies over it all at head height, presiding in the cramped space like a reclining Renaissance model.

“There you are, Dame Big Mistake,” I mutter, dragging it down. “Take this,” I tell Zack, passing him the bag. He takes it but doesn’t know what to do with it, so I have to climb past him and drag the garment case out. “Let’s see what all the fuss is about.”

The fuss is fucking beautiful.

A scalloped bodice glows with a pearly quality, shimmering whenever it catches the light. The paler skirt froths out like a wave just below the hips. And the side’s completely open down past the underwear line.

“Oh, honey, that’s not a mistake,” I murmur, holding the gown up. An embossed Sorentito’s tag catches on my fingers and I turnit over. I choke and re-count the zeroes, but it definitely reads thirty grand. “Shit!” No wonder Rickon’s stressed, and it doesn’t sound like this designer’s offering to refund the dress either.

But I have money now.

Zack trails me as I rush to the bed and dive onto my stomach to find out when Lyra Gray wore a dress by this Alexis whoever. According to the celebrity gossip, the film gala happened not long before I met Rickon. I flash my rude finger at the pretty actress sticking her uppity nose out for the cameras at the red-carpet entrance. “You’re an idiot for letting him go, but thanks.”

I glance over at the gown hanging on the door. This designer lady wanted her clothes seen on someone famous. I’m not famous—yet.

I glance over at my feral alpha, who’s investigating the zip on the discarded dress bag, ticking the mechanism up and down repeatedly. What would the spy Red Hawk do? Hmm, no, maybe I need a different reference. Either way, it needs to be flashy.

I pop my head out into the hallway. “Hey, Agent Josef? Get ready, we’re going out.”

The agent appears out of his room, alarm spreading across his features. “With Zack?”

I grin. “Yep. He’s coming too.” After all, he’s the most important part of my plan.

Chapter twelve

Rickon

The thought of meeting a woman who’s not my boss shouldn’t intimidate me this much, but the problem is Hannah Sorentito is not just any woman. She’s an army general in the style industry, and fashion and entertainment weave so tightly together it’s hard to say where one ends and the other begins.

And here, behind this historically sculpted shopfront, lies the merging place. Although the building is only a few years old, the architraves and detailing carved into the stone exude history, luxury, and timelessness. All elements of the brand Hannah maintains.

Although she’s one of many, if this designer really takes offense, she can blacklist me with all her peers. Easy to do since she has a direct line to every influential ear in the Ommywood fashion sphere. Not the end of the world for me, but it’d kill Red’s chances of getting designer dresses in the future, which she needs since she’ll be in the public eye.

I splay my hands across my chest and move them away from my body as I breathe out, picturing calmness and serenity filling the space within. Well, I simply need to convince Hannah to let Red take over Lyra’s part in the contract.

Problem is, Red’s completely unknown right now.

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