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“No,” Thane offers. “It’s not going to be easy because Slate doesn’t trust us. Bond or not, he’s not like Preston, who can be wowed with a few sweets or a good hard fuck. I was literally knotting him when he told me to try harder.”

“What?”

Malik laughs, his hand sliding to my chest to keep me grounded. “Seems like our Alpha’s going to have to apologize. This is going to be a good one.”

I’ve never been around an Omega who wouldn’t willingly submit but each and every one of them wanted a pack. Slate didn’t. And I’ve done nothing to make him feel welcome here. A soft sound pulls my attention, and I look up to see Preston and Slate at the door. Preston’s arm is around Slate’s waist, his gray-blue eyes bright but wary, his swollen belly brushing Slate’s arm. Slate’s dark curls are damp with sweat, his hand clutching his own belly, the blanket draped over his shoulders slipping slightly.

They both look thoroughly rested but also flushed with need, Preston resisting the urge to drop into one of our laps. It seems as if his need to be at Slate’s side overrides anything else.

When Slate’s face twists, his nose scrunching up, I know they heard more than I wanted them to. He steps forward and throws out his hand for me to clasp. I hesitate and then take it, not ready for the words that come out of his mouth.

“Let’s call a truce. We have the same goal, and now we’re stuck together. Apparently, your bite healed into my shoulder permanently when you fucked me, so now I’m yours too.”

“Slate…”

“I get it. We need to put on a show for the council, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to immediately accept you. I can’t do that.”

I would have thought Slate would be weaker, more docile, scared of everything that just happened but all I see is the defiant Omega from the pool house or the one who tried to claw through us when we first met him. I tilt my head to the side, studying Slate for several seconds. He’s still trembling but he’s pushing through that little bit of fear. “Even if I’m your Alpha?”

Slate throws me an evil grin, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You could be the fucking pope and I wouldn’t care. We’re here for mutual destruction and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure Preston doesn’t hurt. Beyond that? I don’t know.”

Malik cuts in as I let Slate’s hand go. “What does that mean?”

Slate’s gaze shifts, his hand pressing against his belly. Tears gather in his eyes, his voice wobbling as he speaks. “I’ve had my heart broken more times than I can count. I’ve been tossed around, lied to, used, played with, and thrown aside. Words mean nothing to me. I’ll be the best Omega, but I’m only doing it for Preston.”

“What the fuck?” Thane and I say at the same time.

Preston looks just as shocked, moving up beside Slate to gently grip his elbow. “Sweetie, what are you talking about?”

Slate turns to him, his eyes softening, a gesture I realize is only for Preston. “You’re the only one who could hear me in that other form. If I have to trust someone, it’s going to be you. The rest of you have to earn it.”

I have no fucking idea what to say to that and just when I think that Slate can’t surprise me more, he turns back to me, his eyes locked on me. “You once told me you’re not my Alpha. You’re wrong. You are my Alpha, but I’m not your Omega.”