“I don’t want to be a mafia jewel,” she informs me flatly. “I’ve seen what that did to my mother, and I’m not interested in being used by a pack or paraded around like some sort of porcelain doll.”
My eyebrow arches. “That’s an interesting assessment.” It also tells me a lot about potential misconceptions regarding our intentions with her. “For the record, I expect our omega to not only help us run the organization but also become the queen of it.”
“I see.” She picks up the laptop beside her and opens it, her eyes leaving mine.
I suddenly feel dismissed.
But I have no interest in leaving Johan’s space. He’s going to need me tonight. Hell, he probably needs me right now.
Only, I think Lark may need me, too.
“In case I haven’t been clear, you’re our desired omega, Aurora.”
“Whom you expect to help you ‘run the organization’?” she asks, putting emphasis on the repeated phrase.
“Yes.”
She looks up from her computer. “Is that why you left me locked up here like a damsel in your palace? To help me learn more about your organization?” She cants her head. “Or is it because I wasn’t needed as arm candy for your meeting?”
I scowl at that. “You willneverbe arm candy for a meeting. If someone so much as looks at you wrong, I’ll fucking rip them apart. And Noah will help.”
“Me, too,” Johan says, returning to the room with a towel wrapped low around his waist.
That has to be the fastest shower he’s ever taken, likely because he worried about leaving me alone with Aurora.
I try not to be offended by that realization. But it’s impossible not to feel a slight pang in my chest. I’m not a soft alpha. Though, that doesn’t mean I won’t try for our omega, if that’s what she requires of me.
“Isn’t that the purpose of a mafia bride? To provide a visual distraction of sorts? Or entertainment, I guess.” Her nose scrunches with that last remark, then she shakes her head. “Anyway, my point is that you left me here in your tower and didn’t even bother to tell me that Noah was hurt. I think it’s safe to say our definitions of helping to ‘run the organization’ vary.”
Johan saunters toward her, his damp hair dripping down onto his sculpted chest.
Definitely rushed his shower. And didn’t even bother to dry himself off properly.
Not that I mind the view.
But the reason still irks me.
As does Aurora’s commentary.
“We—”
“No,” I cut Johan off and meet his gaze. “This is for me to explain.”
He stares me down for a beat, then dips his chin in acknowledgment.
Aurora has returned her focus to the laptop, making me feel dismissed for a second time. My eyes narrow.
Then I move to sit beside her on the bed, my legs stretching out right next to hers as I lean back against the headboard—just like her.
She tenses a little, the action one I feel since our arms are touching.
Aurora doesn’t acknowledge me, just continues to type on the keyboard, bringing up back-end programming screens. It’s all gibberish to me, but I’ve watched Johan do this enough times to have a high-level understanding of what I’m looking at.
I wait until she’s finished typing, then gently place my hand over hers when she pulls up a new screen.
“You’re not part of our pack yet,” I tell her softly.
Johan makes a sound that tells me he disagrees with my approach.
