I’ve heard alpha barks all my life.
But that…
My omegapurrs, holding onto the sound, the feel of the vibration as it rushes through the ground and into us.
That bark isdangerous.
Luciano
Later that afternoon, I’m on my phone searching through condolence cards.
But I can’t quite find what I’m looking for. Nothing says:Sorry, man. I’m taking your sister.
Because that’s what I’ve decided.
Revea is mine.
After spending most of the day with her, I’m done. Taken.
My alpha settled that hours ago, clearly, because he’s been forcing me to follow her around all afternoon.
Yeah, she looks good, and the hints of scent I catch are nice. But that’s just omegas. It’s more than that with her.
It’s how fiercely she defends what’s hers, how passionate she is, how much she cares about everyone and everything. I’ve noticed her refilling people’s water bottles all day, stacking foils without anyone realising. She makes sure people feel looked after, but quietly.
And man… she’s a vicious thing.
The way my girl spoke to that client, that snarl in her tone, it had my spine snapping into place.
Wait… my girl?
Fuck.
I’m saying all sorts of crazy shit today. It’s literally beenoneday.
But here I am, following Revea into a large room filled with rows of chairs and a raised section at the front like a stage.
She stands just before the platform, in front of a large white plastic table covered with what look like party bags.
It’s just the two of us in here—pretty sure she clocked me when I came in, but that’s only because I wanted myself known. I’ve done enough covert operations to know when to stay hidden and when it’s necessary to be seen.
Right now, I want her to see me.
I lean against the wall closest to her, watching her pretty side profile as she places a small hairbrush into one of the paper bags. Her bright green eyes dart to me every now and then, and I make a point of not looking away.
Not sure I can.
“Is this part of your job description?” she murmurs, placing a plastic comb into the same bag.
“Part of this gig is watching over and protecting the people here. And you’re here.”
“I’m not one that needs protecting,” she says quietly while tying a neat little bow with a string around the handles, sealing it together. “You should be on the salon floor.”
But that isn’t a direct order. She isn’t telling me to leave.
“I’m staying out of your staff’s way, like you said, boss.” I smirk.
She huffs a laugh, and I’ll take it. I entertain her, maybe annoy her, but havingsomereaction is better than none.
