“Oh.” I swallow.
Val frowns slightly. “It was always the plan.”
I nod quickly. “Right. Of course.”
“When Luc offered to step in, we didn’t have the staff free,” he adds, like he’s just filling in a gap. “This was never meant to be long-term.”
My stomach tightens, but I keep my face neutral.
More alphas in my salon isn’t exactly what I’d imagined when I opened the place. But these men, these alphas—Luc, Val, and Syl—already stepped in when things went sideways, and I can’t deny how much safer the staff have felt this week.
I force myself to smile. “Okay... Thanks.”
The line between his brows deepens. “If it works for you, they’ll come by the day after the scanner installation. I’ll introduce you.”
I hold the smile in place. This is good news. Now, we’ll have permanent security.
This is for my staff—this keeps them safe. That’s all I wanted.
But once the scanner’s installed, once their replacements come… there’ll be no reason for Luc, Val, or Sylvan to keep coming here.
This was just a favour.
Temporary.
“Thank you, Val. For everything,” I say, my lips wavering. “I really appreciate what you and your pack have done for me. For the salon.”
Val’s eyes narrow, mouth parting, but I don’t let him speak.
“It’s good timing, really,” I add quickly, tucking fallen strands behind my ears. “I’m going away for a week.”
“What?” His lips fall into a thin line. “Where?”
He doesn’t need to know that. It’s none of his business, but…
“A convention in LA.” I smile.
He frowns. “Who’s going with you?”
I arch a brow. “No one. It’s me leading a demonstration—”
“You’re goingalone?” I don’t miss the rumble coating his words.
Or how it gets my back up.
“Yes, Alpha Valentin. Me, a female omega, travelling alone. HowdareI?” I nudge him out of the way, well aware that’s only possible because he lets me, and head towards my office door. “I think I’ve had enough alphaness today. So thank you, but I need to do some work.”
I nod to the door and wait.
Val’s jaw tightens, but then he moves, and somehow, he makes it a predatory action, sauntering towards me until he’s right there, towering over me, toes of his boots almost touching my trainers.
Then his hard expression softens, those hazel eyes melting into something sincere. “Sorry, Revea,” he says.
The way this man says my name should be a crime. I bite my tongue.
“Really. I know how that sounded. I know I have no right to ask. I’m just...” He shakes his head. “Sorry.”
I wasn’t expecting an apology, never mind so quickly.
