Page 5 of Cost of Courting (When it Raines Omegaverse #6)

I kneel in front of him and put my hands on his forearms, over the scars. Shade bounces up on the couch and looks at us both. He lets out a rumbling purr. I know Mael will never admit it, but Shade’s presence and purrs have comforted him in ways Kingston and I cannot.

I never, ever want to go through that again. We’re all messed up from the three weeks Mael was held captive. As soon as we found him, we stormed the place they were holding him with a rage that bordered insanity.

But it didn’t change what had been done.

His eyes close, and his breathing gets shallow. I can feel the pain in the bond before he fights it off and comes back.

“They’re happening more frequently,” I say, noting out loud the obvious none of us has been able to say.

Mael swallows hard. “Yes,” he rasps. “It's being back here.”

“We need to get this job done and get out of here,” I murmur and brush his hair back from his face. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Mael, not again.”

It’s a promise I mean to keep. The person who did this to him is still out there.

But he won’t be for long.

I help Mael up and move him into the bedroom we’ve set up. With a gentleness that leaves the room feeling brittle, I pull off his clothes and help him into bed.

“I’ll stay up and watch.”

Mael makes a halfhearted protest, but we both know that if I go to sleep, too, he will wake up ready to kill.

I sit in the chair beside the bed and pull out my phone, scrolling through the assortment of apps and chat rooms, looking for any information that could lead us back to the guy who destroyed Mael.

The mysterious and deadly Crimson Tiger.

He got his name from the deep furrows he leaves in the skin of his victims, similar to a tiger’s stripes.

He’s developed a cult following with people who not only follow his orders like they are gospel but protect him with an insane dedication.

No one knows the identity of the Tiger. His name is protected by threat of certain death.

The last rumours we heard were that he’s here, in this territory. We’ve worked for long years to find that piece of information. Now, we’re here.

I won’t have this asshole living, breathing a moment longer.

Not in my neighbourhood.

The night passes slowly. I end up getting up and organising the shirts in colour order, then organising the cupboards, making sure everything is lined up. It’s nights like this when fighting my compulsions are almost impossible.

Kingston returns and, with a dissatisfied grunt, crawls into bed, covering Mael with his body.

“Sleep now, Edric,” his command beats and crushes the compulsion to clean, and I fall into bed, exhausted and frustrated. Still, I lie awake, waiting for the gold light of day.

Kingston’s demon cat slinks in not long after and curls up on the pillow, golden eyes glowering around the room in a sinister watch. Almost as deadly as my own. We are the silent sentinels, keeping watch into the night.

When the sun rises, Mael slips into an easier sleep, and I’m able to join them to find my own nightmares.

I bounce out of bed, anxious to get this day started. The sun is shining and whatever tension and stress filled the house last night is mostly gone, hidden in the shadows.

“Good morning, wonderful pack!” I say with a malicious smile because, truly, there is something deeply satisfying about seeing my pack so miserable first thing in the morning.

Kingston glowers at me. Mael ignores me, but Shade, the stunning little demon in feline form, stands on his back paws and stretches up for a hug. I pick him up and swing him around before helping him climb up Kingston’s shoulder.

Kingston shouts as tiny cat daggers puncture his shoulder .

“Your ability to bounce out of bed with such good humour is sickening,” Kingston growls. He needs coffee to become his happy self. “Show some humility and pride in being part of Pack Dread. We don’t do happy.”

I spin to the window and duck down, staring out of it. I had a long time alone to plan for how to tackle this issue, and I’m eager to get it underway.

There is no sign of her, though, but I can hear music coming from her house.

“How is our target today?”

“She threw a carton of off milk at me,” Kingston says. “Last time I take her muffins for breakfast.”

I bite my lower lip so I don’t laugh and trigger Kingston’s nasty temper.

She walks out of her house, and, I swear, the world shrinks down to just her. Today she’s wearing a pair of bike shorts and an off the shoulder t-shirt. My eyes catch on her ass and stay there before I can recall myself. I watch as she goes and fetches a suspicious-looking ladder.

No, no, no. That is not safe at all.

“I’ll be back.”

Shade lets out a growl, and I smile at the huge stripe of ginger down the left side of his face.

He’s predominantly black with ginger paws, a chest blob, a teardrop stripe on his left eye, and half his tail.

It’s like someone splattered orange paint on his long hair.

He hates everyone, including me, but, for some reason, he’s been unusually nice since we came home.

Like we’ve reached a truce.

“Be good, little psycho, and I will get you a mouse.”

Mael shudders.

“Why does it have to be a real one?” he whines.

“Because he needs to be a hunter, and I can’t let him out of the house. Got to keep his instincts sharp.”

“You’re revolting.”

Kingston just blinks at me. “He’d prefer cat treats from the supermarket. The dead and processed kind.”

“Nonsense. He’s a killer. Look at him.”

Shade flops onto his side and kicks his chin.

“Yeah, totally deadly attack cat, right there,” Mael snorts and shifts away from the cat, despite his derisive tone.

I salute them both and leave, pulling the door shut behind me. I trot across the road, watching as she climbs up the ladder.

“Sel? ”

She doesn’t even look at me when she lobs the water balloon in my direction. It bursts, and I almost vomit. I think it is vomit. I gag and stumble back.

“What the fuck!” I mean to say those words, but they come out in belches and between dry heaves.

I gag and finally throw up, which just makes everything worse.

I can’t stop. I end up on my knees, shaking on her patch of weeds, feeling woozy.

I have never, ever in my life been rendered so useless so quickly.

The worst part is she doesn’t even turn, she just keeps working. I stagger to my feet just in time to get a face full of water out of the hose.

The smell goes, and, though I’m freezing cold, the relief is instant.

I stand there, fighting to breathe as the water clears the stench away. When it turns off, I’m dripping and can still smell the lingering scent of whatever she hit me with, but I’m no longer rendered useless.

I give a white face Luna a nod of thanks and turn towards the object of my ire.

“SELENE CYBIL FISHER, WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?”

She finally glances back and looks me up and down. “Leave my neighbourhood.” It is said with such a haughty command that, at once, I get back up, ready to do exactly the opposite, come hell or high water.

Fuck this.

I walk over and kick the ladder hard. It breaks in two, leaving her clinging to the roof. I glower up at her, waiting. She drops right into my arms.

I lock her limbs down and glare into ice cold, furious eyes.

“Hello, Sel, you’re being a real pain in my ass. Why don’t you say hello properly and stop throwing your cute little tantrums?”

The woman in my arms is all woman. There are curves and a weight to her that makes me want to drag her into the shower with me and lick her clean.

And that’s when the scent, her omega scent that she didn’t ever have when I knew her, hits me. It’s familiar and, painfully, exactly where we’d surmised it came from. Funnily enough, we’d almost talked ourselves into believing it wasn’t here. It was in our imagination.

Yet, here it is, smacking me in the face.

A scent that I want to roll in, lick off her skin. A scent so powerful my cock twitches in my pants, begging me to drag her inside by her hair and knot her. My mouth waters.

Blueberry cobbler. It used to be our favourite. I haven’t had it in years. But the memory has haunted me.

Suddenly, I want it again.

“Selene Fisher, do you have something you want to tell me? ”

I lean down and inhale deeply, smiling as the scent intensifies.

She stomps down as hard as she can on my instep, smiles, and tells me to drop dead.

It’s so good to be home.