Valencio rolls his eyes. “Let’s not count our scripts before they hatch. Start with the book.” He claims he’s not interested, but the gleam in his eyes says otherwise.
Rickon and I trade knowing smirks.
“All right then. I’ll do that. See ya when the Alpha Spy table reads start.” I salute him with the business card and turn away. I must be walking on air because I don’t feel the floor under my heels as we trail across the crowded room.
“Bloody hell, Red!” Rickon cries, grabbing my arm to spin me into his hug. “You’ll be so perfect in Alpha Spy!”
Zack rumbles happily and pats my head. He doesn’t know exactly what just happened, but he feels the joy through the bond. The sensation swells. I took the last months off to recuperate, at least until our promo for The Omega’s Race began, but now I’m ready for another challenge. This is the perfect way to really test my skills. And without court cases, kidnappings, or crime bosses standing in our way.
“Shall we ditch this place?” I ask.
My alphas agree so I lift my flowy side skirt and jump on Zack’s back. My big alpha takes my weight easily, bracing his hands under my legs to hold me in place.
“Onward!” I cry, pointing toward the exit.
The fresh wind outside blows the door clean out of Rickon’s hands, smacking into the wall with a dramatic crash. Announcing us to the world. Reporters who’ve lingered behind after the red-carpet ceremony snap our photo with a series of blooming flashes.
Callisto links his arm through Zack’s, holding him in place. The alpha tenses, quivering as he floods the bond with stress. But he doesn’t attack.
I stroke his head and rest my hand gently on the collar he still wears, minus the leash. My big alpha’s healing, too.
Rickon heaves the door shut and waves to the press before taking Zack’s other arm. Together my alphas walk him down the red carpet.
“What will you title it?” Rickon asks as we reach the parked cars. “The book, I mean.”
My heart swells with love as I grin down at him. I wouldn’t have made it this far to even consider writing a book without my soulmates. “I’ll think about it,” I tell him. Needs to be something fitting, that tells the theme of my life, butmountain-climbing omegawon’t cut it.
We tumble into the car in a tangle of limbs, giddy after several rounds of champagne. My dress gets caught in the door, so Rickon climbs out and loads the layered half skirt in properly, bending down to kiss my cheek. A dawn sky frames him, bordered with pink clouds above the city backdrop.
“I don’t think I can sleep yet,” I announce, excitement twinkling through my veins.
“Same,” Callisto says from the front. He spins, seatbelt halfway across his body. “Should we drive past the site?”
I laugh, catching the light in his eyes. “Definitely. I’ll let Rose know where we’re headed, because she wants to see it too.”
Reckon passes me my purse, and I type my friend a quick message and send her an address pin. We planned to show her tomorrow, anyway.
A twenty-minute drive brings us to the most recent Wren land purchase. Callisto climbs out to unlock the builders’ fencing, and we idle in through big mesh gates full of construction site warning signs. At five in the morning, the place is deserted, only the breeze stirring plastic packaging wrapped around the beams.
Callisto helps me out of the car, and when I rub my bare arms, he shucks his jacket off and sets it over my shoulders. When the breeze blows, his sleeves plaster to his skin. The dark tattoo shows under the thin white material, a third clock reaching to his elbow marking the time he finally bonded his omega. Together, they symbolize his bitterest moments, along with his triumph. Now, he’s no longer alone, and I love him even more for his struggles.
I take his hand and turn to admire his handiwork. “Wow,” I breathe out, gazing at the massive building laid out before me. “It looks almost complete.”
“Just four weeks to go,” he says proudly. “Or it better be, because Hale’s complaining about his temporary office.”
I chuckle. “He just wants to gripe about everything.”
I walk forward, supported by my men to get a better look. The complex’s outer ground floor layer forms a distinct horseshoe shape, with spokes leading to an inner center for the administration buildings, which is two stories tall. The design isn’t exactly a simple one; we poured over the plans for hundreds of hours alongside consultants, talking with Zack about how he’d react to certain doorways and structures in the hopes of minimizing all the future residents’ stress.
A car pulls in behind us.
Rose, her ginger-haired alpha Colt, the musician who ran away when I visited his house, and the golden-skinned former feral, Zane, all get out, keeping her within arm’s length. When she stumbles on the rough ground, Colt clicks his fingers at Zane, and the dark-haired alpha sweeps her up into his arms and carries her, Rose’s laugh echoing around the construction site.
I grin, their happiness is infectious.
Colt throws his jacket into the car and leads them over, undoing his bow tie. “Nice to see everyone away from the penguin suits.” He rolls up his sleeves and gazes up at the building. “So, this is the place?”
“Sure is,” Callisto says proudly.
