Page 66 of Your Wild Omega

But it’s not. It’s empty and hollow.

My breathing quickens, coming in short gasps as the morning light warms my arched back. But that fragment of heat can’t penetrate my skin. Inside I’m ice cold.

A footstep scrapes the stone floor behind me and a man clears his throat. “I didn’t believe it when the security system said someone was out here.”

I twitch and spin.

Simon scans me from the entryway and frowns. “You all right, Callisto?”

I pull out a handkerchief and mop sweat off my forehead. It’s definitely not from heat because the air’s still chilly. What am I supposed to tell him? That my life just imploded, and I don’t know how to put the pieces back together? That I’m verging on a panic attack here on the crypt’s floor?

I suck in a deep breath and turn away, hoping he can’t read the distress in my body language. “Tell me how you and Lector won Mom’s heart.”

He snorts and walks over, his indoor slippers scuffing lightly on the stone. “Wasn’t Lexi we had to convince.” He stares down at the gold plaque which readsAlistair Callisto Wren.“He’d had so many people approach him wanting to use Lexi to lure him into business deals.” A smile tugs at his lips. “I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but he even sent thugs to our house once or twice to tell us to stay away from her.”

I turn to gape at him. “Dad was on terms with thugs?”

Simon laughs. “And that’s the only bit that surprises you? I’m sure he hired them for the day. Lector responded by sending him a thank-you card along with our signed prenuptial agreement.”

I choke. “Were you even dating Mom at that point?”

He grins. “Of course not. But we wanted to.” Simon rubs his thumb over Dad’s name and sighs. “You gave us hell, Alistair. Wish you were still here to give us some more.”

I study him, noting the gray streaks in his light brown hair. Time is printing itself into his skin, burrowing into the corners of his eyes and lips. “You miss him?”

Simon turns and rests one hand on my shoulder. “Callisto, I loved your dad very much. I hope you know that.” He squeezes me once and drops his hand. “Of course I miss him.”

I nod slowly.

“And I love you too, if you’ll believe it.” He slaps me on my back. “Come on. Let’s go inside and eat something. Dwelling on the dead too long isn’t healthy.”

I’d thought I’d stay here for a while, but he makes a good point. Dad and his workaholic traits won’t help me any now.

I straighten and dig my hands into my pockets, casting a long look at my father’s urn before turning away. “Simon, am I a workaholic?”

He laughs as he leads the way out of the crypt. “Are you seriously asking me that? No, you’re not “a” workaholic. You’re the definition of one.” Simon throws one arm out dramatically. “Workaholics stand afar and ask:How can we be more like Callisto?”

“Very funny.” I snort but can’t muster up the energy for true humor. It feels like the pieces of me have cracked open, and my willpower’s drained out through the gaps. Like I can’t even care anymore. This must be what it means to lose a soulmate.

Did Red feel like this the day we met, when I turned my back on her?

We cross the rose garden on the side of the twenty-room mansion and follow the path around the back. Simon keys in the door code on the security pad and leads me into the kitchen.

“Coffee?” he asks, pulling out two mugs.

“Yep. Anything black works for me.”

He slips a mug under the spout on the high-tech machine and soon the bitter scent of ground beans spreads through the room. Simon steals glances my way from the corner of his eye. “Sit down,” he says, pointing to the barstool. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“Feels like it too,” I mutter. The seat grates noisily against the tiled floor, making me wince.

He gets pita wraps out of the fridge and breaks a couple of eggs into a pan. Bacon goes in next, adding its own unique semi-sweet aroma.

The bag in the trash can rustles as he tosses the scraps. “Something bad happen?”

That’s the understatement of the year. “Yeah.” Something so bad it feels like I’ll never be able to draw a full breath again. Each time air whooshes into my lungs, it seems like it’s the last one I’ll get. I’m holding together because I’m not the kind of guy who cries—not for myself anyway. Red’s the only one who deserves my tears.

Simon clears his throat. “You asked how we courted Lexi . . . Well, the truth is we didn’t. Not really.” He leans his elbows on the bench. “We weren’t chasing just your mom. Prickly and intimidating as he was, we wanted to get to know Alistair better too. Two halves of a whole and all that stuff.” He waves one hand in the air. “We were, like, two wolves stepping onto his territory, you know?”

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