Page 38 of His Snowbound Omega

Thorn watched him jog out of the kitchen, then collapsed as soon as he was alone. On the ground, he propped himself up with the counter and closed his eyes, tried to focus on evening out his breathing and calming his racing heart.

Shit.

He’d always been the best at getting a job done.

But why did he suddenly feel so personally invested in this?

* * *

Thorn made a sound of protest when he was woken many hours later. Something shifted the large bed, rousing him, and he didn’t like it.

“Shh,” the familiar voice of his alpha hushed him as strong arms banded around his waist and pulled him in close. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

He wanted to ask him what had taken him so long, but that comforting scent of gingerbread wrapped around him, and that, coupled with the heat of the alpha’s body, was enough to send Thorn back into dreamland with little to no fight.

Chapter 12:

There were roses on the dining room table in the morning.

But no alpha.

Thorn stared at them for a while, trying to decide how he felt about waking alone. He had a vague recollection of Baal waking him, but in the light of day, he wasn’t as certain it was real. Maybe he’d dreamed it.

His fingers brushed against the collar he was still wearing and with a huff, he reached back and undid the buckle. The box was still where he’d left it last night, and he replaced it and then gave in and plucked the white card from the flowers.

Breakfast is in the kitchen. Stay as long as you like.

- Baal.

Thorn refused to be annoyed. It’s not like he expected anything from the alpha. He certainly didn’twantto wake in his arms or eat with him or any such nonsense.

This was a contract relationship, plain and simple.

He tossed the card to the table with more force than necessary and grabbed the gift box. After glaring at the roses, he opted to leave them there. Was it petty? Yes. But did it serve the alpha right?

…Probably not.

“Damn it.” He went to the kitchen, not so stubborn that he would ignore the free five-star meal, and was rewarded with a massive spread.

His multi-slate chimed just as he’d sat down in front of the empty plate.

My Alpha:I didn’t know what you liked, so I ordered a little bit of everything.

His eyes narrowed at the text.

Thorn:My alpha? Seriously?

My Alpha:Aren’t you happy I gave you my number? Don’t be nitpicky, sweetheart.

He couldn’t believe Baal had put his contact name down as that. Thorn clicked on the edit button, intending to change it, but another message came in before he could.

My Alpha:I’ll be checking my details later. Don’t do anything rash.

Thorn:Are there cameras in here? Are you watching me?

He glanced around, but if there were any recording devices, they were well hidden. This was a hotel, not the alpha’s private residence. Could he even legally film in here?

What was Thorn thinking. He was mafia. Baal could do anything he wanted. Including call himself his alpha, apparently.