He is holding his arm over his middle casually, trying to make it look like it isn’t because he’s injured.
I’m certain that Ellington broke one of his ribs.
Yet Icarus has refused to do more than pull out his pain meds from his desk (he gets headaches from working too late into evenings), and swallowing a couple.
I need to at least hold an ice pack over his ribs.
Perhaps, I can persuade him to settle me quickly with this new pack and that I can handle this alone.
Then he can go and tend to his injury.
I glance at Icarus.
Unlikely.
My Alpha is vibrating with an emotion that I can’t work out. Dominant pheromones roll off him in waves. His gaze is fixed fiercely on the panel like he can set it alight and stop the elevator from moving up toward our destination.
Room 234 is on the ninth floor.
I swallow, as rage joins my fear.
What type of pack will I find there?
What type of Alphaholes see a female omega putting on a show dressed as a sexy elf and then demand that she becomes the Christmas companion for their lonely male Omega?
I’ve been around the Hotel Omegas long enough to hear scandalous stories about Alphas who only want them to play boardgames, while having a captive audience to regale with stories of their wartime glory days, to those who need help in ruts because they’re feral and are desperate to hide this truth from their elite circles by using the hotel’s valued discretion.
I wrap my arms around my middle.
Four…five…six…
The silence is heavy between Icarus and me.
Will this mess up the heist? Zoe’s routines?
Ollie has promised to arrange with Lashonda to take over Zoe’s schedule. I trust the Sinner pack, who love my daughter as the only pack child, to care for her well.
Yet my eyes are wet with tears that I may miss spending Christmas Day with my daughter.
If I must lose creating these precious memories with my daughter, however, then I will not miss the heist that will change her entire future.
It’s December twenty-third.
I have two days left to figure out how to take control of this hotel empire, while working for this guest pack.
I clench my hands.
What type of pack has to buy the services of a strange Omega to be friends with their male Omega?
Maybe the Chief Alpha is a billionaire asshole who won’t even take a break from his business over the holidays to spend time with his pack. Clearly, he has no idea how lucky he is. None of the staff are allowed a vacation…or to bond.
Yet I know how their male Omega must feel: Logan never prioritized me over work.
My expression softens.
I won’t take out the righteous anger that is eating through me, and is making Icarus look a moment from hulking out, on a neglected Omega.
Bird made me understand that the divide between the guests and HOs is a complicated one.
