Page 28 of Brave New Omega, Part 2

Chapter 28

MAX

C allum paces in the living room, one hand tucked into his pocket. It’s a wonder he’s walking upright.

Loren fiddles with his phone, messaging his sister about tonight.

Fucking rich people dinners.

I don’t want to go. I’ll do damn near anything for Loren and my Pack. But I hate the pretentious, overdressed debutantes as they talk about how great it is to be wealthy and how terrible it is that common folk can vote now. All the while forgetting that their beloved Mid-weight Champion is one of those common folks.

I’ve slicked my hair back and wear my silver-gray suit with a black dress shirt that I’ve left open and unbuttoned one button too many for “polite” company.

I know Katie is going to like it. Gods, I want to feel her running her hands underneath the fabric of my shirt, making my nipples hard as she straddles my lap.

“Max,” Callum growls.

I sigh, rolling my shoulders. “What? Our Omega is fucking hot and I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“I can smell you over here .” He shoots me a warning look.

Yeah, I know what happened last night. Callum’s possessive growls and Loren’s lust-soaked scent are proof enough. He fucking went into a mini-rut.

It’s probably a good thing that he got all of that out of his system. I thought he might fuck and bite and bond Katie right there in the living room. And that would be a whole mess.

“What’s taking her so long?” Callum growls.

She’s still a little stiff from all our glorious sex . I want to rub it in Callum’s face. All his macho bravado has gotten him exactly nowhere with our Omega. But I know it would be a shitbag move. He’s not holding back on Katie because he’s a bastard.

Okay, he is a bastard. But that’s only a minor reason he’s holding back on her.

He’s got to believe she’s not Genevieve. And while he’s definitely been on the slow train, I think the dense Alpha might just be making progress.

“Cal, take a breath. She’s getting ready without assistance. You know it takes women time,” Loren starts, but my attention is snagged by the vision on the stairs.

Holy Mother of Wolves.

She is a goddess in a deep maroon dress that hugs all her curves without being obscene. She’s poised at the landing, her face framed by bouncy curls, her lips painted a vibrant red.

The dress only offers a hint of her sweet breasts, but there is a sexy little star cutout on her left hip– the side opposite the sleeve.

She is a goddess, and I imagine her presiding over a harvest festival, her skin shimmering with gold dust, her cheeks pink from hard cider.

“You are beautiful,” I manage to say as I nearly float over to the bottom of the stairs. Loren hovers behind me, his mouth open. For once, the professor has nothing to say. He’s just watching Katie as she slowly descends the stairs. She pauses three steps above us.

“So you like the dress?” She asks, smoothing her hands down her hips. Loren and I nod like schoolboys.

“No,” Callum says. I swear to every god of the land and moons and sky, I am going to beat some sense into his thick skull. Katie pouts, one hand curling into a fist. She is gorgeous . I hold back an angry growl that wants to bark at Callum. His status as Alpha of Pack Murphy be damned.

Cal pushes past Loren and I, and lifts Katie’s frowning face up to his.

“I like you in the dress. Because you are what makes the dress beautiful.”

Her pout softens as they gaze at each other, heat building between them. If we don’t leave now, Callum might fuck her right here on the stairs. Which would at least be progress. Katie blinks, then rolls her shoulders back, breaking the moment.

“Not that you need any adornments,” Callum says, blocking her from taking another step. He pulls out something from his pocket.

Katie’s breath catches.

“Oh Callum, it’s so delicate! I can’t wear anything like that.” Her eyes grow round looking at the small open box in his hand.

I lean forward and catch a glimpse– a necklace with a perfect pearlescent stone surrounded by three jewels of red, blue, and green. They spiral around the central jewel, like colorful moths pulled toward an eternal flame.

“You are our center,” Cal says, his voice thick. He leans forward and fastens the necklace around her throat. It sits perfectly flat on her chest. “Wherever you go, Katie Wilder, your Pack will follow.”

Loren and I both nod.

She is our suns. Our moons. Our center.

And fuck, I can’t wait until we leave our marks and make her ours, forever.