“Sure. But you’d make a killer impression,” I joked.
Alaric heaved a dramatic sigh and asked the bartender for another shot of Baileys. After he threw it back, he huffed. “I told myself that after the first season, I’d take my time and play the long game. But at this rate, Thystle won’t even remember who the hell I am.”
“I mean this in the least offensive way possible, but you’re hard to forget, Alaric.”
He flashed a crooked grin. “And you’re the opposite, Matteo. In the least offensive way possible, of course.”
“None taken,” I promised.
That was the goal, after all. To blend seamlessly into the background, never to be the center of attention again.
Though, I was starting to see a glitch in my strategy. In the short amount of time I’d known Thystle, I’d grown fond of him. And I was attracted to him—far,farmore than I ever was to Crimson. A bud of hope whispered in my ear that maybe... he might be the one.
But if I inched my way closer to his heart, and if the feeling was mutual, wouldn’t that thrust me directly into the limelight? The exact thing I was trying to avoid?
My warring feelings nagged at me. I couldn’t shake the itchy, anxious feeling of standing out, yet I wanted to find my fated mate more than anything. In the end, my desire for love won out. That was why I accepted the invitation for season two.
I felt like I stood on the edge of a yawning chasm with everything I ever wanted beyond the terrifying pit. I couldn’t live my whole life dodging the things that scared me. I had to take the leap of faith and fly.
Just as that thought entered my mind, I heard a loud voice addressing Thystle. I looked over to see a tall, jock-like omega looming over him, clearly trapping him in a conversation he didn’t want to be in.
I was appalled at that man’s behavior. In the first season of the Games, the omegas were polite and civil, waiting for Crimson to address them first. But many of the contestants here now were rowdy and downright rude.
I thrust my drink at Alaric, who took it with a confused frown.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
I almost saidto protect what’s mine.But I stopped myself at the last second before the words left my tongue.
Thystle wasn’t mine. We’d only spoken once. Why was I so defensive over him? I dismissed the thought, blaming it on my compassionate nature. This was just like earlier, when I protected Muzo from that bully. I disliked it when people imposed their will on others. Nothing more.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” I said under my breath before storming off.
Thystle wasn’t a huge alpha—he was an average height, toned, yet lithe and wiry. The jock omega was larger than him and used his size to his advantage, cutting off Thystle’s escape route.
“You haven’t spentanytime with me yet,” the omega complained. “Let’s share a drink.”
Thystle looked like a haggard substitute teacher dealing with too many obnoxious teenagers.
“I’m fine, thanks,” he said curtly. He stepped around the omega, obviously trying to escape the crowd, but the man got in his way and raised his cup.
“C’mon, man, don’t be like that. I came all this way to meet you,” the omega said.
Poor Thystle. I could tell from his expression that he deeply regretted inviting so many people now.
“Sorry, I just need a second,” Thystle mumbled, dodging the man in the other direction.
When the omega blocked his path a second time, I grew enraged.
Thanks to my ability to blend into the background, nobody noticed when I slipped next to the offending omega. By the time hedidnotice me, it was too late. I’dthrust myself between them like a brick wall.
“Matteo!” Thystle said.
The raw relief in his voice told me I’d done the right thing. I was glad I trusted my instincts, even if they consistently got me into trouble with meatheads.
“Hey, dick,” the omega barked. “I’m having a conversation here.”
I held up a hand to show him I wasn’t looking for a fight. “My apologies. I’ve got an urgent message for Thystle.”
