Page 60 of Omega's Heart

He set us up, my green pegs next to his red. Kaden was always red; it was his favorite color. I mixed the milk and honey into his coffee and set it at his elbow, then sorted myself out before taking my seat and picking up my cards. “Once your leg is done you’ll be able to stay and dance on Full Moon,” I said casually, because I did want him to have a happy life. “Who’s going first?”

“You can.”

“Such a gentleman,” I mocked him gently, but it only made him grin.

I dropped a three and a six into the crib and watched him expectantly. He took his time choosing, but eventually placed his two cards face down in the center of the table.

“Your turn,” he said with a mild expression that immediately raised my suspicions.

I took my time deciding on my opening bid, then put down a ten. He immediately laid down an eight. “Eighteen.” I added a five, he copied me. “Twenty-eight and a pair for two.” I watched as he moved his peg forward two places.

All I had was an ace, which I laid reluctantly on the table, already aware he was going to wipe the board with me. “Twenty-nine,” I said.

His eyes flicked up to mine. “Go,” he said, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Don’t you let me win just because,” I told him, and took my point.

“You think I’d do that?” he asked in a casual tone as he looked over the rest of his cards.

“Maybe,” I admitted. “You’re an alpha.”

“You’re not a child.” He played a card. “Seven.”

I played my eight. “Fifteen for two.” We both reached for the peg at the same time, his fingers landing on mine. They were warm and a little rough, and then he pulled his hand back.

“Sorry,” he said. “I used to play Paw with Quin in the hospital when he came down. I had to be quick to keep him from winning.”

“That’s okay,” I told him, though my fingers tingled where he’d touched them. “Your turn.”

We played until late, until Julius came across the hall, flushed both from dancing and triumph to fetch me home. As I stood to leave, Kaden stood too, balancing on his one leg, using the tips of the fingers of his good hand to borrow some stability from the table. “Thank you for keeping me company,” he said. “I had a good time.”

“I did too,” I told him and turned to go.

“We should do this again,” Kaden said abruptly. Julius turned to look at me, eyes wide with something I didn’t want him to talk about right at this moment.

“Sure. Just let me know.” I shot Kaden a pleasant glance, but it was only when I was in bed that night that the world outside my brain quieted down enough for memory to point out something to me.

Kaden had been looking at me the entire time, not Julius.

C H A P T E R 3 8

T wo days after Full Moon, Kaden made the trip into the city for his first day of civilian work. He managed to find his way to the senator’s office with luckily only one wrong turn, and to find a parking space that had enough room around it that he didn’t need to worry about accidentally hitting the car next to him as he levered himself up out of the seat. The office was in a small strip mall, tucked away between a shop selling cigarettes and a hairdresser’s.

He’d worn his leg today despite the doctors’ orders, on the off-chance that he wouldn’t be able to get a chair into the place, but the sidewalk had ramps built into the concrete and the glass door at the front opened easily and was more than wide enough for his chair if he needed it. So he was going to piss off the doctors for no good reason.

Kaden took the seat the secretary pointed at and waited. He was far more nervous than he liked, and his tabs, a bilious yellow against the warm chocolate of his shirt, seemed to him to glow like targets in the lights. Felix had picked out the shirt, then insisted on embroidering the collar with tiny yellow diamonds, as if that would make the tabs less noticeable. Well, maybe it did, a little.

The tie was choking him.

He watched as people went in and out of the office, while the clock ticked by. A few of them looked at him with curiosity, but most seemed far too busy to notice someone they didn’t expect was important as they sped by. It was oddly reassuring. Maybe he could do this job and be treated like something close to an equal. It wouldn’t be like being out in the field in the army, but if he worked hard enough, was useful enough, he could see the glimmer of a day where no one noticed his tabs except new people.

Eventually, when enough time had passed that the novelty was wearing thin and he was starting to consider the possibility of becoming bored, the senator’s office door opened and the man himself walked out. “Kaden, sorry to keep you waiting. Something came up, and I’d like to say that it was an uncommon thing, but you’d find out pretty quickly that I was lying. Come in, we’ll do some introductions and figure out how best to put you to work.” He held out a hand and for a moment, Kaden stared at it dumbly, then bolted awkwardly to his feet and took it.

“Thank you, sir,” he said. He followed the senator into the office.

The senator paused just inside the door, raised one finger into the air and turned quickly back to the door. “Oh, Delilah, ask John to step in, and Mike, would you?” He turned back to Kaden. “Kaden, this is Ben Warwitz, he’s my communications advisor, and Adam Ingram, he works with the press. Boys, this is Kaden Salma Wood and we’re going to put him to work.” He stepped behind his desk. “We’re just waiting on Mike and John--” The door opened and a middle-aged man with dark hair just going gray at the temples put his head in.

“You wanted me?”