Page 23 of Omega's Faith

I shift my hand, thumb stroking along his jaw. He shivers—full body, impossible to hide. The cameras go crazy.

"Gorgeous! The chemistry! More of that!"

We spend twenty minutes in variations of touching. My hand in his hair, on his waist, fingers interlaced with his. Each touch sparks reactions he can't control—scent spikes, shivers, those little gasps that make me want to push harder.

By the time Shar calls for us to change wardrobe again for the family shots, Jonah looks wrecked. He’s flushed and glassy-eyed. His honey scent is so thick it's choking. He practically runs to his parents when released and I can’t help feeling a little guilty. He doesn’t want to be here, same as me. Still, it’s his own fault. He could try talking to me like a person instead of looking at me like he thinks I’m the devil.

Once we’re both in a new set of clothes, Diana herds us all to the rose garden. This used to be my mother’s place. She’d loved roses. I have a team of gardeners who maintain it, but other than them, I don’t think anyone has visited it in years.

It's a good, nauseatingly romantic place for the final, formal photos.

Jonah's parents try their best, but they're clearly overwhelmed. Pastor White glares at me from the sidelines like I'm personally responsible for all the world's sin.

Probably not that wrong. Maybe only ninety percent.

Still, we all force ourselves to grin and look as if we are all hyped up on whatever drugs Jonah thinks I ingest with my cornflakes.

"Just the couple next," Shar says. Jonah's parents start to step back, but his father clears his throat.

"Could we..." He looks uncomfortable. "Could we get one photo with Pastor David? For the church newsletter?"

The pastor hasn't stopped glaring since he arrived. The last thing I want is his judgmental face in my photos but it’s not like I’m going to be given a choice.

"Yes," Diana says smoothly. "What a lovely idea. It shows Alexander embracing Jonah's spiritual side."

I open my mouth to argue but she gives me a look. "Smile, darling."

So I stand there, fake smile plastered on, while Pastor White is positioned beside us. He's rail-thin and radiating disapproval. He leans close as Shar adjusts the shot.

"I pray for your salvation, young man," he says quietly. "That you might find your way to righteousness."

Asshole.

"Big smiles!" Shar calls.

I bare my teeth. Jonah stands between us, tension radiating from every line of his body. The shutter clicks.

"Beautiful! Now just the couple!"

Pastor White steps away, but not before giving me one last look of condemnation. I want to tell him to fuck off, that his precious omega isn't as innocent as he thinks and I’m not that evil.

I’ve never killed anyone, never forced anyone. All I do is party too hard, dance too much, drink too much, fuck around a lot. With the exception of the pool noodle incident, I’ve never hurt anyone and that wasn’t evil. It was just stupidity.

But then Jonah's back in my space and coherent thought becomes difficult.

"Against the arbor," Shar directs. "Alexander behind, arms around him. Like you're protecting him from the world."

I position myself as directed, arms sliding around Jonah's waist. He goes rigid.

"Relax," I murmur against his ear. "Almost done."

"Easy for you to say." His voice shakes. "You're not the one being pawed at."

"You like being pawed at."

He starts to protest but I pull him back against my chest. The full body contact shorts out his brain. I feel it in the way he melts, just for a second, before catching himself.

"I can't," he whispers.