I turn back to Bella, taking a breath to say something—then a too-familiar voice shatters my thoughts.
“So this is my new punching bag?”
Her scent hits me like a rogue wave, and nausea churns at my core. Alphas usually smell unpleasant to me—a side effect of my suppressant drugs—but this is on a whole other level.
I’m nothing if not an expert at performing under immense strain and discomfort. Still, summoning a smile remains beyond me, so I settle for a calm expression and force my gaze up to meet Christine’s. And up. And up. Fuck, she’s tall.
The sun catches her hair, revealing its natural silver-blue sheen.
Her too-blue eyes glitter with mirth. I’m sure she thinks she’s hilarious.
“You ready for a punching bag that punches back?”
Christine laughs, flashing the pointed canines that I’m sure she’s never once considered hiding. “Good find, Bella.”
I accept her offered handshake, gritting my teeth at her bone-crushing grip. Whether she’s showing off or ready to brush it off as ‘I just don’t know my own strength,’ I’m equally unimpressed.
“Christine Evansworth, at your service. You can call me Tee,” she says.
“Mylo.” It takes all my willpower to keep the bite out of my tone. As she releases my hand, I stuff it in my pocket to hide the way I wipe my palm.
“Looking forward to working with you.”
Wariness crackles down my spine. My precautions to hide my omega status are watertight, especially with my off-label suppressant dose nearly eliminating my scent. There’s no chance a beta would clock me. An alpha, on the other hand… and after a long day of sparring and sweating…
I shove the fear away, like I always do. I’ll figure it out.
“Same,” I reply.
“Alanna left big shoes to fill. You sure you’re up to the task?”
I’ll do my best,is what I should say. The response is written deep in my muscle memory. It’s the one promise a stunt person can keep.
Instead, what comes out is, “Not a doubt.”
There’s a spark in Christine’s piercing blue eyes, and the corner of her mouth pulls into a smirk. “Now, that’s the spirit. I’d love to stay and get a taste, but I’d better go prep for the next shot.”
Bella nods. “We’ll catch you tonight after wrap, at least go through some of the basics.”
“Sure thing. See you around, Mai Tai.”
My brain short-circuits.Whatdid she just call me?
I can only watch as she turns and heads back toward the makeup tent, calling out, “Who’s got my triple espresso? Momma needs her caffeine.”
Bella chuckles. “A nickname already. She likes you.”
Someone like that doesn’t like anyone. She just likes to toy with them.I keep my commentary to myself, turning my attention back to Bella and forcing myself to focus.
Fortunately, Bella’s presence has naturally drawn in Gabriel, her assistant stunt coordinator.
Gabriel is a broad-shouldered Black man with a kind smile, taller than me but not nearly as tall as Christine. He looks to be in his early forties. “You must be Mylo. I’m Gabriel,” he says, vowels lilting with a light French-ish accent. Haitian, maybe?
“Guilty as charged. Great to meet you.”
“Thank you for coming out here on such short notice,” Gabriel says. “I know the schedule is tight, but we want you to be as comfortable as possible.”
I nod. “The honor’s all mine. If Bella Zepper trusts you, I trust you.”
