My heart races as I tear off the note and hand it to her. Her eyes scan my writing, and for a moment, my heart stops. What if I played this wrong? What if her not ratting me out about the recipe is nowhere near the same level as what I’m asking for now?
But then, she lifts her head, pure dismay etched into her features. It instantly dissipates, though, leaving only determination in its wake. “I believe I can help with this.” She nods, and for the first time in two days, my chest feels lighter.
Chapter 6
Ethan
Thisis why I like computers. Code. All things electronic. They’re simple. Logical. When there’s a bug, you can fix it, if you can figure out what the problem is.
The problem that’s currently staring me in the face, though? No amount of lines of code can fix this. I’ve never evenheardof an alpha presenting at twenty-four.
But it’s the only explanation for himbarkingat me, the change in his scent, and the way he’s absolutely fucking losing it right now. We’ll know for sure if he somehow gets a knot—but we arenotclose enough for me to ask that question right now.
“This is right bullshite,” Teddy snaps, pacing the room. “It’s been for’y-eight hours, and you ‘ave no leads! None!”
“Teddy…” I sigh, sitting forward slightly. In the five years we’ve lived together, I’ve never seen him like this. It makes sense, though, given that the woman he’s been hopelessly in love with for the last year has disappeared.
Something in him had shifted ever since he came home from that party, practically singing ballads in honor of the little omega who had captured his attention.
We had been investigating one of the attendees of the party at the behest of a family whose omega had gone missing. Teddy had gotten the information he needed, and then took a smoke break.
The little omega had come bursting into the alley, and then Teddy was never the same.
Wren Sofia Messina. Late-presenting omega and only daughter of Francesco Messina. Kept under lock and key all of her life, not even an Instagram account to be seen. I would think that someone like that would be boring. A robot, indoctrinated with the beliefs of their family. Not Wren.
Her beauty is only surpassed by her innocence, something I found outafterTeddy forgot to turn off his mic and hidden camera.
I should feel guilty for being privy to their back-alley and coat closet conversation, but I don’t.
How could I, when it makes me understand Teddy so much better in this moment?
Idofeel kind of guilty about pining over the omega who’s never even met me, though.
And for trying to think of ways to steal the sticky note that reads “Caramel Drizzle”. Just the memory of the scent that barely clung to the paper—crisp apple, warm cinnamon, and a hint of allspice—stirs something inside me that I haven’t felt in…well, ever.
“Fuck right off with that, mate. You can call me Theodore ’cause ‘till you find Wren, you’re dead to me,” he growls, pacing the room.
Was I this unstable whenIpresented?
“It’s not like they keep an electronic record of things like this, Ted,” Brennan tries to reason. As soon as Teddy barked at me last night, I called in reinforcements. Theonly two guys who I know he would listen to in a situation like this, despite his current behavior.
Maverick and Brennan.
Brennan, ever the stable and reasonable one, while Maverick isn’t afraid to tell it like it is to get shit done.
Teddy only growls again. I exchange a glance with Maverick. He could bark Teddy into submission if he needed to, but…Ireallydon’t want it to come to that.
“We don’t even know if she really was taken against her will,” Maverick adds, and I suppress the urge to growl myself. Not only would Wren never do something like lead Teddy on and leave him, but that statement isnotgoing to help. “What does ‘caramel drizzle’ even mean?”
The sound that rips out of Ted’s throat is rabid, and he takes two steps towards Maverick, murder in his eyes, before he halts, dropping to his knees. Based on his expression, it’s obvious he’s not on the floor by choice. Maverick’s dominance is stifling, and I find myself pulling at my collar a little, even if it isn’t directed at me.
“You losing your shit isn’t helping anyone, least of all your girl,” Maverick snaps, staring down at Teddy.
The newly-presented alpha opens his mouth to answer, but then his phone rings.
His ire drops immediately, and Maverick loosens his dominance, allowing Teddy to answer the phone.
“‘Ello? Dove, is that you?” His voice is desperate, and so broken. Whoever is on the other line speaks again. “Wot? ’Ang on.” He frowns at the phone, putting it on speaker. “Say all that again?”
