“You act the joker, but I see you, Ace Winter,” I murmur. Our lips brush gently as I lean in, laying small kisses on his top lip, then the bottom. He tugs himself away with a grumble.
“I’m being serious,” he scolds me. “I never, ever want you to feel that you can’t trust me.” He grabs my hand, holding it tightly.
“My shoulders are broad,” he says softly. He wiggles them, wagging his eyebrows and making me snort a laugh. “I can carry some of that.” He gently pokes my shoulder, and my heart clenches at the earnest expression on his face.
“Let me fight some of those monsters for you,” he whispers, warm breath fanning across my face. His expression is pleading.
My eyes well up even as my chest grows warm.
I think Ace Winter just stole a piece of my heart.
Touching his cheek in thanks, I curl back up on his lap. He wraps his arms around me and we stay curled together in a corner of the library, a tenuous new bond between us.
I’m reading a book, Ace trailing his fingers up and down my arm, when Rogue’s voice rouses us. He sits up slightly, not letting me go as he calls out.
Rogue appears at the door, his eyes moving between us as he shoots me a soft smile.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I am,” I say, smiling.
It doesn’t last for long, though.
“We’ve been summoned,” Rogue says grimly, the smile sliding off his face. I flinch and Ace pulls me closer as he growls. “By the compound?”
“No,” Rogue says as he throws himself into a chair opposite us. His normally pristine shirt is rumpled, and his hair is in disarray. He looks stressed. I’ve barely seen him since yesterday morning since he’s been buried in his office.
“We’ve had an invite to the annual gala.”
I stare at Rogue as Ace groans dramatically under me.
“What’s the annual gala?” I ask.
“Hell,” Ace mutters dramatically, his arm over his eyes. “Fucking hell.”
Rogue rolls his eyes. “It’s not that bad,” he chides. Turning to me, he explains.
“The annual gala is a yearly event thrown by the company we work for. They’re heavily linked to the government, so there’ll be a lot of important people there.” He hesitates. “Including some of the board members for the compound.”
My heart sinks. “I don’t have to go, right?” I ask, filling with dread when Rogue hesitates.
“The invite specifically mentions you.” He hands me the piece of card and I stare down at the names. Even with the stress squeezing my stomach, I feel a small thrill at seeing my name entwined with the Winter pack.
At the bottom, there’s a handwritten note.
I look forward to meeting your new pack member in person.
Ace reads the note over my shoulder. “Bloody Jackson.” Picking up my worry, he starts to knead my shoulders gently. “Don’t stress it, little omega. Jackson is our boss. He’s an ass, but he’s just being nosy.”
“I agree, but it’s not ideal. This is the first year they’re allowing omegas. It will look suspicious if we don’t attend.” Rogue has that furrow between his eyes again. I want to rub it away with my finger.
“I’ll go.”
Both turn to me with matching stares of disbelief.
“You’ll go?” Ace asks, clearly surprised.
Shrugging, I nod. “We have time to prepare, right? I’m assuming we’ll need to be seen to be following the rules,” I say to Rogue. He recovers quickly, grimacing.
