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The Bright Omega

Page 54

by Paige Hammonds

Finn, sweet Finn, tries to save me. “Leave her alone, Beck. She doesn’t have to play if she doesn’t want to.”

“Oh no,” I say, already reaching for the spare controller. “I’m definitely playing.”

We start a new race. I choose Princess Peach and take the lead almost immediately, Luigi (Beck) is on my tail. The remaining three watch like it’s the most interesting thing happening on the planet. Beck is trash-talking the screen. Piers is quietly cheering me on. Finn is smiling softly every time I laugh. Leith watches with that quiet intensity, but I catch him leaning forward when I nail a tight turn.

I’m still in first place when a soft knock comes from the doorway. Belinda stands there holding the most beautiful bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen. Their vibrant pinks, deep purples, sunny yellows, and rich oranges are a riot of color.

“Cammie, these came for you,” she says warmly. “The delivery person left them at the gate.”

I pause the game and take the bouquet, breathing in the sweet scent. “Thank you, Belinda.”

Piers leans in slightly, eyes on the flowers. “Who are they from, sunshine?”

I pluck the little card from the arrangement and open it, expecting to see one of their names. The handwriting is neat. Almost pretty.

Sluts get what they deserve.

My stomach drops and that too familiar panic, the one I fight every morning when I wake up, crawls back in.

Before I can even process it, Leith is there. He plucks the bouquet out of my hands so fast I barely register the movement. His woodsmoke scent goes sharp and acrid. He tears through the flowers, inspecting each stem like it might be hiding a bomb or poison or god knows what. He’s all focused energy, like pulling apart this arrangement, one stem at a time, is the only thing keeping him from losing it completely.

“Leith—” I start.

He looks at me. Just once. It's brief and it's controlled but underneath it is something that makes my omega go very still. Not from fear. From recognition. Whatever is happening behind his eyes right now is entirely about me.

"I'm pulling the gate footage," he says, voice so sharp it could cut glass. "And talking to every guard on rotation tonight." He pauses, jaw working. "No one should have been able to find this address." Then he's gone. The flowers crushed in one thick fist.

Protective energy fills the room so thick I can almost taste it. Beck is suddenly kneeling right beside me, one hand on my shoulder, the other hovering like he wants to pull me from the couch into his lap. Finn has abandoned his side of the couch and is crouched in front of me, eyes wide with worry. Piers is standing tall, phone already in his hand as he barks orders to someone on the other end. Leith’s heavy footsteps are already fading down the hall. The front door slams a second later.

Their energy is so intense, I almost forget to be scared of the alpha who pushed me into traffic. Almost. Because right now, I’m too busy trying to calm down three very large, very pissed-off alphas who look ready to burn the world down for me.

“It’s okay,” I say, reaching out to touch Finn’s arm. “I’m fine. She’s just crazy.”

He looks at me with worried eyes. Like even the thought of something happening to me is too much.

A purr starts rumbling low in my chest. It surprises the hell out of me. I’ve never purred before. But it comes easy now, especially when I look at Finn’s face, so completely focused on me.

Like he can’t stop himself, he drops to his knees and rests his head carefully in my lap. I thread my fingers through his dark hair without thinking, stroking gently. The purr deepens.

Beck moves to my left side on the couch, close but careful. Piers settles on my right, one hand resting on the back of the couch behind my shoulders. They don’t speak. They sit there with me, their quiet, solid energy surrounding me while I purr and stroke Finn’s hair.

The silence feels nice. Safe.

After a long moment, I look around the beautiful, colorless living room and say softly, “This house is boring.”

Beck lets out a surprised laugh. “The stalker flowers aren’t exciting enough for you?”

I shake my head, running my fingers through Finn’s soft, dark hair. “It’s all black and white. No color anywhere. It’s beautiful, but… it feels cold.”

The three of them go quiet for a beat, staring at me.

Piers’ expression shifts into something thoughtful. Finn tilts his head, small knowing smile playing on his lips. And Beck? He grins like I’ve said something totally outrageous. And I probably have. I suspect they paid a designer big money to decorate this place.

I shrug, a little self-conscious now. “I’m just saying… it could use some life.”

twenty-eight

Camelia