Shit.
I averted my eyes quickly, trying to come up with a way to look busy that wasn’t totally obvious when Joon mumbled unintelligibly at me from across the table.
“What?” I snapped, my voice coming out rougher and more irritated than I intended.
“Will you pass me that?” Joon asked, their eyes on the plate of eggplant parmesan and hand outstretched.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my tone evening out as I used a finger on the lip of the serving dish to edge itjustthat much further away. “What was that?”
Joon sighed loudly. “Pass the eggplant parm,please.”
I smirked, gearing up to ask Joon whom he would like to pass him the plate—getting to hear the little omega call mealphajust too tempting, when Indi stood to pick up the plate and hand it to him, ruining the game.
Softie, I complained internally.
“Could I have some pasta please, alpha?” Eva asked, offering her plate for me to fill.
The sweetness in her tone drew a smile to my face as I took the dish from her. “Just the pasta? I think you should have a bit of salad, too… You’ll need the nutrients.”
If you decide to have our baby.I let that bit hang between us silently, deciding that a parentage contract was maybe a bit heavy of a topic during dinner.
While we were having dessert, however…
Eva nodded, and I took that as clearance to give her a bit of everything, our fingers brushing as I handed the plate back.
“This all looks incredible,” she said with a grin that felt better than my first Michelin star.
“Really,” Joon cut in, raising their voice to get my attention. “Amazing job, Marcus.”
Indigo snorted into their wine glass, and I shot the alpha a look that told him to shut up. If our omega wanted to be jealous I was getting a little attention from Eva, I wasn’t going to complain.
Cameo was filling his own glass, moving to do mine before offering me the bottle. “Grazie, Marcus. This is beautiful as always…”
“…But not quite like my Nonna’s,” the pack all chimed in at once, with various levels of success at mimicking Cameo’s soft accent.
Eva laughed, digging into her plate. “So…” she said, drawing the word out on a nervous breath. "How would this work, exactly?"
"How does what work?" Indigo asked, cracking a bit of fresh black pepper over Joon's plate before their own.
With someone new in the mix, it was easy to see the ways we’d settled together as a pack. And, whether or not Joon wanted to admit it, he was at its center. I was half sure that if I looked under the table I’d spot him playing footsie with Cameo.
"The, um… offer?" Eva prompted, color dusting her cheekbones in her embarrassment.
"Oh!" Cameo said, letting out a low laugh. "The baby? We'll negotiate the contract I drafted, of course."
"That's not very romantic…" complained Indigo, and, for the life of me, I couldn't imagine why they’d want it to be.
This omega wasn't here to becourted, she was here to act as a breeding mare to feed into Cameo’s delusions of the white picket fence, two point five children,American Dream.
Eva pushed her pasta around her plate, brows furrowed in confusion. "A contract? Like article B, subsection F?”
"Yes," Cameo said cheerfully, leaning to wipe a bit of red sauce from the corner of Eva’s mouth with a napkin. "We'll negotiate your rate, the duration of time, expectations of roles for both sides, limits, safe words, rules, you know, the typical things."
At the look of complete and utter loss on the girl's face, I spoke up, narrowly resisting the urge to click my fingers at her to get her attention—a bad habit I'd picked up in a house full of people who constantly wore headphones but was considered rude by just about anyone else’s standard. "Have you ever been in a relationship dynamic before? You know, like… in the lifestyle?"
"Dynamic?" Eva asked, going even redder as her eyes swung between us.
"Y'know, been a sub," Indigo added helpfully.
