I turned back to my desk, to the frozen image of her on my computer screen. Her mouth was open mid-note, her eyes still clear and focused before she'd seen me watching. There was something in her expression, some quality of determined fragility, that made me want to build walls around her. High, impenetrable ones.
My Alpha nature recognized something in her biology, something beyond the apple-pie sweetness of her scent, a pull I couldn't rationalize or dismiss. Part of me wanted to track her down immediately, to find her before dawn and bring her somewhere safe. Somewhere that was mine. The impulse was nearly overwhelming, primitive in its intensity.
But I'd already scared her once. Charging in like some kind of feral Alpha would only cement her fear, send her running farther. I needed to be smart about this. Strategic. I needed to make her think she was choosing to come to me, that she was deciding about her own future.
I sat back down, minimized the video file, and opened a new document. My fingers found the keyboard with the muscle memory of thousands of contracts drafted. I would offer her something legitimate. A performance contract. Payment for her services. The kind of professional arrangement that wouldn't trigger her obvious trauma around Alphas.
The gala was in six weeks. I needed a featured performer for the evening's entertainment. The coincidence was almost tooconvenient, but I'd take what I could get. I would offer her a chance to sing for an audience that could change her life. Proper compensation. Safety. Options.
And if those options kept her close to me, in my building, under my watch—well, that was just good business sense.
My jaw unclenched slightly as I typed. This was better. This was control reasserting itself. I could manage this situation, manage her, manage my own unwanted responses. I would have her close, but it would be professional. Nothing that would frighten her or force her into anything.
The lie tasted bitter even as I told it to myself, but I kept typing anyway.
I pressed the button on my desk comm, it was one-fifteen in the morning, but I knew Theo would answer despite the hour. Pack bonds meant we were always there for each other, and either Lucian or Theo would always answer when I called.
“Yeah,” Theo answered. His voice came through the speaker after two rings, rough with sleep or something close to it.
“We need to speak. Now.”
He groaned. “Give me twenty minutes.”
“Ten.”
The comm clicked off. I stood up from my desk and moved back to the window, watching the city lights shine through the dull, chilly night.
The door opened in eight minutes. Theo moved as he always did, economically and precisely, his broad shoulders clearing the doorframe with inches to spare. He'd dressed quickly, in jeans and a dark Henley shirt instead of his usual tactical gear.
“Kade.” He stopped a few feet inside the door; hands loose at his sides. Waiting.
I didn't turn to face him fully, my focus on the view. “I need you to locate someone. An Omega. She was singing on SeventhStreet earlier tonight, under the lamppost near the intersection with Crescent.”
Silence. Then, “You want me to locate a street singer?” he asked, mid-yawn. “At this time in the morning?” I looked at the clock, and nodded. “You do know I don’t work for you, right?”
A smirk formed on my face. “You’re the best tracker we have. Theo... I need to find this girl.”
Theo’s brow furrowed. “Why? What hold does she have on you?”
Pursing my lips, I turned to look at him. “She doesn’t. At least not yet, she doesn’t. But I need you to see her, and tell me if what I think is true.”
He rolled his eyes. “Couldn’t this have waited until later in the morning?”
I swallowed back a laugh. “No. It’s cold out there. She needs protection.”
“Protection from whom? And why do you care so much, Kade? This isn’t like you.”
I walked over to him and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Because Theo... because she’s ‘our’ Omega.”
Chapter Four
Kade
Theo stared at me, not saying a word. He took a deep breath. “What do you mean ‘our’Omega?”
“Her scent, her torn grief-ridden face, her strength... I can feel it. She’s ours, Theo.”
“And when you say ours, you mean...”
