“I’m proud of you, you know,” he murmurs.
“Dad.”
“What? It’s true. Now get going. And come and see your mother soon before she hunts you down. She’s worried you’re not eating properly.”
My laugh is genuine. “Tell her she doesn’t need to worry anymore,” I tease. “We’ll have our own omega soon.”
My dad grins. “If I tell her that, she’ll be banging down your door within an hour. I’ll let you break the news.”
This is true. My mom is a force to be reckoned with on her best day.
My mind is already on the night ahead as I stride through the marble antechamber, heading for the wide doors and home. Someone collides with me with a thud, my briefcase dropping and splitting open as I’m engulfed in a cloud of red hair and sickly-sweet perfume, a poor imitation of an omega’s scent.
“Oh, Tristan! I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”
Alicia’s overly girlish tones make my eardrums itch on a normal day, but today I’ve got especially little patience for Councilor Erikkson’s daughter.
“My apologies, Alicia,” I mutter, trying to grab my scattered paperwork. Alicia gets there first, her fingers immediately closing on the envelope from the Omega Hub. My fingers itch to snatch it back from her bright red, pointed fingernails as she holds it out like it’s poisonous, the vapid smile sliding from her face.
“What’s this?” she demands. Sighing, I straighten.
“It’s our invite to the Bonding Trials, Alicia. We’ve been matched with an omega.” Her green eyes immediately fill with tears, and I fight back a groan.
“Tristan,” she whimpers. “You can’t do that to us.”
My brows draw down in frustration. “There is no us, Alicia,” I say pointedly, reaching over and removing the envelope from her grip. “I have told you this over and over again.”
Unless stalking counts as a relationship nowadays.
She inhales sharply, and I brace myself for a round of dramatics. Instead, she throws her hair back. “We’ll see.”
I stare at her in disbelief.
“Alicia,” I say as gently as I can manage. “I’m sorry that I can’t give you what you want. But I’m very happy to be mated. The Trials are just a formality.”
She nods vacantly. “I’ll see you soon, Tristan.”
She stalks off in the direction of her father’s office, her stilettos tapping on the floor as I stand there, my mouth agape.
What just happened?
3
GRAYSON
My pen taps against the blank page as I grapple desperately for something. Anything.
Just a hint of inspiration.
When nothing magically appears, I snarl, flinging my pen across the room. The door opens just as Logan sticks his head in, his head jerking back as the pen shatters against the wall next to his head.
“Fucking hell, Gray. What’s wrong?”
My head hits the desk with a thump. Even the sight of Logan, standing there with his blonde waves deliciously mussed and his shirt loose and unbuttoned doesn’t pull me out of my funk. He circles the desk, his fingers digging into my neck, working out the knots until I groan and tilt my head back against his stomach.
His chestnut eyes blink down at me. “Better?”
“Much,” I admit. “Thank you.”
