Page 90 of Your Wild Omega

I press my lips together as emotion tingles through my chest. Fuck, he’s really pulling out all the stops for me. This is exactly why I could never stay upset at Callisto. “I’m sorry,” I say, even though that doesn’t adequately express anything in my heart.

Callisto swears under his breath and stalks back to me. “You have nothing to be sorry for, you hear me?” The fierceness in his tone catches me off guard.

I can’t help myself. I step forward to meet him, throwing my arms around his waist. He’s solid under my hands, like an unyielding shield.

Callisto clutches me to his chest and drops his chin into my hair. “Not a damn thing,” he mutters.

For a moment we hang in another dimension, where nothing’s changed between us and nothing else exists except his woodsy scent and the strength in his desperate bear hug. He rocks me side to side ever so slightly.

It’s over as swiftly as it begins, and Callisto walks away. “Everything will be okay, Ricky. See you for the court prep session.” He waves over his shoulder.

Yeah, everything will be okay; we’re still friends and the pain will fade over time . . . so why does that seem like such a terrible future?

Chapter thirty-five

Red

Rickon glances up at the imposing courthouse before rubbing my upper arms. “Are you sure you’re okay to be here?” he asks for the fourth time this morning. He’s the one who should be hesitant about facing his former abusive partner who throttled his neck, but he’s worried about me instead. I only stabbed the guy with a fork.

“I’m not made of glass, you know,” I shoot back, leading Zack up the stairs to the left of the central swathe of neatly mown grass.

A perfect lie, and Rickon knows it, because Iammade of delicate mosaic illusions and patchwork movie lines. But the confrontation with Hudson Vatters barely registers on my trauma radar, so I really can walk in there and sit through his trial.

No, the pain of walking these steps comes from the memories flooding in of the day I climbed Callisto like a tree on the small square of grassy lawn, only to be shot down. It was a clear daylike today too, and I was giddy with my first taste of freedom. I studiously avoid looking at the patch of green grass and fix my gaze on the doorways above us, swallowing crowds into the shadowed interior where classy bastards in silken suits dispense justice.

Callisto waits for us inside, bouncing lightly on his shiny shoes as he scans some documents. Rickon already spent an evening with him, going over his statement and prepping for cross-examining. I found a list at home Callisto gave him of things he must not say on the stand today. Seems court is even more complicated than I thought.

“Good morning,” Callisto says, smiling. He nods once as our eyes meet.

I thought the bouncing meant nerves, but he appears calm. Serene even. I thought the same that first day when I followed him, unable to believe he’d left his omega out on the lawn. This courthouse is Callisto’s domain, and in here he’s a king.

“Hi,” Rickon says shakily.

“Ready for the big day?” Callisto asks, extending his arm to guide his best friend. “We’re down the hall here in room two.”

I trail behind them, worrying Zack’s leash through my fingers. Callisto holds the door open for us to enter, revealing a cream-painted room heaped with wooden furnishings. The only color comes from the curling-ribbon logo with a motto about justice mounted at the front of the room. I look up. Moldings on the walls and high ceilings give the place a historic aura. How many horrific crimes have been tried and sentenced in a place like this?

Kinda feels like I walked through a portal to a foreign world, one where people like me shouldn’t be. Zack reaches out and takes my hand, and I cling to his fingers gratefully.

“You can sit here,” Callisto says, indicating a row of seats in front of the carved barrier. “We’ll be just a few feet away overthere. Will that be okay?” He holds my gaze, searching for my reaction.

I glance across the wooden wall to the two tables for the prosecution and defense, and nod. “Yeah, this should be fine.”

I slip down the row and take a seat, Zack settling in beside me and Agent Josef sitting on his other side but leaving one empty seat between them. My feral alpha seems to have come to a chilly truce with his guards, with Zack mostly ignoring the OCB officers when they accompany us out.

We watch as Callisto rests his hand on Rickon’s shoulder and steers him to the front before setting out several black document folders. He chats with my alpha, quickly putting him at ease with a joke I can’t hear.

I slump down in my chair. Rickon’s in good hands.

I thought I was prepared to face our attacker, but I flinch when the big beta walks in with his lawyer and sits down on the defendant’s side. A whiff of pungent wood shavings perfumes the air. For a moment, I picture my beloved Fabby McStabby fork sticking out of his arm, but the moment I blink, the mirage is gone.

The nausea remains, twining through my belly like a snake, and I cover my midriff with my hands. I really loved that fork, but I lost her to police evidence after Hudson’s unwanted visit. He’s a real piece of shit.

“All rise for Her Honor, Judge Gail Firston.”

I tug Zack upright as everyone rises, and we remain standing as the jury files in. A long speech follows about upholding justice and the process of the law, and some bullshit about innocent until proven guilty.

Callisto goes first, presenting a matter-of-fact summary of how Hudson entered our apartment and throttled Rickon. I try to pretend they’re not talking about me as the lawyer recites my actions of stabbing his arm and threatening him with a knifebefore the police arrived on the scene. Thankfully, I never got charged for that, since the wound wasn’t deep and it was deemed self-defense.

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