“Anytime.”
Doc’s gaze lingered on Ottis, fond and bright. No alpha had looked at Ottis with affection like that, after he’d started limping. Sometimes, alphas thought there was something wrong with him just because he couldn’t walk like everyone else did. And here Doc was, treating Ottis like a regular person.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Doc murmured, his voice barely audible. “Strong and capable. The perfect omega.”
Warmth crept through Ottis’ entire body. Doc released Marcie’s hands to cradle Ottis’ cheek, brushing his thumb over Ottis’ lower lip. Tingles raced across his skin; Ottis’ breath hitched.
Doc’s gaze was so intent, so unwavering, that Ottis dared to wonder:What if he wants to kiss me?
Then Doc leaned closer, and Ottis’ heart thundered.
“Who’s shifting?” Bruiser asked, stepping through the kitchen doorway.
Doc and Ottis jumped.
“What dragonet?” Bruiser added, like he had no idea what he’d just interrupted.
Ottis could’ve kicked him. Maybe he even understood why Uriel hated Bruiser so much.
Doc sighed. He exchanged a look with Ottis, then glanced at Marcie. “Your call,” he said to Ottis. “This place is soundproofed.”
“Would’ve been nice to know before I blabbed earlier,” Ottis grumbled, but he wasn’t surprised. Doc had been looking out for him ever since they’d met.
Why hadn’t Bruiser heard, though? Maybe he had been distracted by the baby-seller’s phone. Since he and Zenith were both part of Doc’s trusted friend group, Ottis shrugged. “We found out today that my pup is also a dragonet.”
Bruiser’s eyebrows shot up. He glanced at Marcie, who was trying to grab the grape soda again. “Sothat’swhy you were attacked.”
“Unfortunately,” Doc said.
“Damn it,” Bruiser muttered. “We keep trying to clear them out, and more keep popping out of the woodwork like worms.”
“Hence the phone hacking,” Doc said. “I’m hoping it’ll lead us to a source.”
Bruiser sighed and left the kitchen. “Give me some time.”
Maybe Ottis’ curiosity showed on his face. Doc scooped him up along with Marcie, carrying them back to the living room. Bruiser had the phone on the ratty coffee table next to a laptop. In the corner, Zenith was hunched over his notebook, furtively watching Bruiser as he scribbled.
Doc sat on the couch, arranging Ottis sideways on his lap. Ottis had to kick off his shoes so he could wriggle his toes on the couch cushions.
“I think you might fit in here if you shift,” Ottis said to Doc. “If you’re creative about where you put your paws.”
“I’ll tell you one thing,” Bruiser said. “This place won’t fit all three of us, shifted.”
The idea made Ottis burst out laughing. “It would be funny. The apartment would explode.”
“It wouldn’texplode,” Doc said.
“It would,” Bruiser retorted. “Or have you forgotten Nevada? The time we were trapped in that condemned office. Two of us shifted and accidentally took out so many load-bearing walls, the entire building collapsed.”
Ottis squeaked. “Were you hurt?!”
“Concussion,” Doc said. “Not much more than that.”
Ottis frowned. He hadn’t had the chance to look closely, but he vaguely remembered seeing other scars on Doc’s body, pale silvery shapes that were nothing like the scars on his face.
Bruiser glanced at Ottis. “Hijinks will dish all the dirt on Doc. Including the embarrassing childhood stories. He willcryhappy tears for the chance to humiliate his boss.”
“Bruiser,” Doc hissed.
