Page 6

I’ve always thought of myself as a pretty strong, self-aware Omega—one who doesn’t need a pack to feel whole. Then I woke up with Sy as the big spoon and me as the little one, my ass pressing against a very hard, very long dick that was unfortunately tucked away beneath his flannel pajama pants. But it was more than that. It was the safety I felt within his arms. The bone-deep sense of rightness he talked about so confidently yesterday replays through my head, and the fact that I experienced that with him.. . Mind. Blown.

It was both enlightening and way too enticing. Of course, then I panicked, slid out from under his arm, and rushed into the bathroom under the guise of getting ready. By the time I came out, he was up, dressed, and checking emails. Neither of us mentioned what happened last night, and I’m not sure whether I’m disappointed or relieved about that.

Now that we’ve arrived at The Love Nest, walking along a boardwalk under a canopy of palm trees that block out most of the midday sun, I can unequivocally say this place is even better than West claimed. It’s fucking gorgeous. White sand beaches, crystal clear water, hammocks and beach loungers, bars unobtrusively set within the landscape, and so much more I can’t wait to explore. The resort has only been open a few months with limited availability, which explains why the crowds are small and still fairly intimate. It’s also very exclusive and, I’m sure, expensive considering the clientele it caters to.

We make our way to the Hacienda where the concierge desk is located, entering through two large louvered doors that are folded open, melding the indoor with the outdoors. We’re greeted by a man in a black suit, white shirt, and a hunter green tie, with a silver name badge on the right side of his chest.

“Welcome to The Love Nest. I’m Ikaia, like Isaiah but with a K.” He pulls a handheld tablet from behind his back and looks at Sy. “What’s the name on the reservation?”

His smile is wide and his dark eyes warm. With jet black hair, tanned skin, and a muscular build, the Beta concierge cuts quite an attractive figure. He’s exactly my type, yet I feel nothing. Not a single spark of attraction.

My senses are definitely malfunctioning.

“Elliott Mitchell.”

“Perfect. Ah, Mr. Mitchell. We have you noted as one of our esteemed guests, with the Premier Package for you and your mate.”

Before I can correct him, a waitress in a white button down and black dress slacks walks up, balancing a tray filled with glasses of champagne. Sharing a look, Sy and I both take one, then I turn back to Ikaia. My mouth opens, but he continues talking.

“Mated pairs are not our usual clientele, but I also see here that Mr. Mitchell is a journalist with the Chicago Daily News . Is this trip business or pleasure?” Again, he eyes Sy expectantly.

“You misunderstand. I’m not Elliott Mitchell.” Sy nods his head toward me. “She is.”

Ikaia’s eyes get wide, his mouth dropping open until he practically snaps it shut. Glancing down at his tablet, he feverishly scans the details before hastily looking back up at me.

“I truly apologize, Ms. Mitchell. Our system has your personal details incorrectly classified. Let me get that corrected for you right now.”

I take a sip of the bubbly champagne, enjoying the crisp sweetness on my tongue. “Might also want to correct the fact that we’re not mated.”

This time, his entire body freezes. The look on his face can only be described as one of dawning horror.

“I see.” He takes another look at the screen, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

That doesn’t bode well, now does it?

“Is there a problem, Ikaia?”

Panic-stricken eyes meet mine. “You see, Ms. Mitchell, guests who purchase our Premier Package are often placed in one of two villas on the property that are reserved for our most prestigious clientele. When your reservation was updated to include a second party, and with your gender mislabeled next to your designation, it was apparently assumed that your Beta escort was your mate. You were all placed in our Platinum Villa which is significantly more private with a breathtaking ocean view.”

“That’s totally fine. Sy and I don’t mind sharing a space. He’s my friend and also my assistant.”

Ikaia’s head tilts, gaze shifting between us. “The problem is that the second party is not your escort, but rather another group that checked in two days ago.”

Sy’s worried eyes meet mine while I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.

“You mean to tell me that we’ll be sharing a villa with a group of strangers? Isn’t there another option? The other villa or even another suite we could be moved to?”

“I do apologize. We are fully booked for this week, so I don’t have anything else available. But I should point out that there is a full Omega suite on the top floor which includes a de-scenting chamber, a panic button in case a situation arises, and a full office attached to the suite that has access through to the second bedroom. The rest of the villa’s rooms are on the first and second floors, with two separate staircases to access the entrance. While it is technically within the same property, it is also completely safe and private, with locks on all doors.”

My anger surges, caused by a sudden appearance of nerves. I don’t do strangers, especially in my immediate space. “I think I need to call my friend, West Carter, who originally booked this reservation. I don’t think she’ll be very pleased to hear how your resort has completely muddled this entire trip.”

“West Carter? As in, Maxim Carter’s daughter?” he rasps.

“That’s the one. And I should point out that Maxim Carter is packmates with Santiago Cruz, one of the wealthiest men in the world, and my other best friend, Cadence Parker. It just so happens she is also related to famous PackChat influencer Crew Parker of RideAnAlpha. As a reporter for the Chicago Daily News , this isn’t looking good for your resort’s reputation, Ikaia. How am I supposed to tout your resort’s high points when it’s fumbling things this badly from the beginning, especially considering I’m an unbonded Omega being forced to stay with a group of unknown individuals?”

He swallows harshly. “I sincerely apologize, Ms. Mitchell. I can assure you this has never happened before. I would like to offer myself as a full-time concierge solely devoted to you and your needs throughout the duration of your stay.” He grabs a business card and quickly writes down an extension before handing it to me. “As I’m sure you’re aware, the island has strict rules regarding cell phone and technology use outside of this building due to privacy and NDA concerns. However, there is a landline in every room for inter-island use. Simply dial the extension noted here, available twenty-four hours a day, and a member of my staff will relay all messages directly to me in order to assist with anything you may need. In addition, I can offer some restitution in the form of a future all-expenses-paid trip to our lovely island. I realize this doesn’t resolve the current issue at hand, but we welcome the chance to prove that our level of service is beyond anything you will find at other resorts of similar status.”

“Thank you, Ikaia. I think I’ll need to assess the situation with the villa before I make any final decisions. Would it be possible to have someone show us to our accommodations, and I can check in with you this afternoon?”

“Of course. I’ll take you there myself. Please, follow me.”

As we turn to head out the door, Sy’s fingers brush against my hand before they intertwine with mine. I stare, stupefied, and almost trip over a crack in the path.

“You okay?” he asks softly.

It’s a struggle to pull my eyes from our joined hands, but I do, finding him staring down at me with a look of concern.

“I’m frustrated and more than a little pissed off, but if it’s really as private as he says it is, maybe we can make it work.” My sigh speaks of my exhaustion and annoyance. “Is it bad that I’m half tempted to get back on a plane, head home, and chalk all of this up to one huge, whopping mistake?”

He chuckles, the sound making my belly feel funny. “You’re not going to let the unknown scare you off, are you? You’re Elliott Mitchell. Badass Omega and terror to Alphas everywhere. You never retreat.”

He obviously isn’t fully aware of the situation with Brooks and his pack, or he’d be eating those words right now. That might be the one time in my life where I ran—even if only emotionally—like my life depended on it.

“I’m not really going to leave, but I’m definitely not comfortable sharing air with a bunch of randos. What if they’re… I don’t know…psycho murderers? Or maybe they eat their food with their feet or… Hell, what if they’re hockey players?” I shudder dramatically, making him laugh.

“You don’t want to join your best friends on the hockey bandwagon?” he teases.

“Yeah. Hard pass.” I side-eye him, fighting a grin. “Get it?”

His chuckle follows as we climb into the golf cart Ikaia motions us toward, and within seconds we’re driving through the stunning scenery and fauna of the island. Ikaia expertly navigates us through the winding paths designated for the motorized carts.

“Your luggage will be delivered by one of our porters. As part of the Premier Package, you will have priority delivery, so you should have it soon if it’s not there already.”

“That’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Will you be attending the meet-and-greet this evening?”

“Yes, I believe we will,” Sy answers with a squeeze of my hand before I can contradict his kissable ass.

And I totally would have. Contradicted him, that is. I’m not sure I’m going to be mentally available to interact with a group of strangers until I can get my mind to settle. Especially considering I just realized his hand is still wrapped around mine and I haven’t pulled it away. What’s even more shocking? I don’t want to.

It’s gotta be all this fresh air. It’s fucking with my neurons.

We pull up to a lavish white house with natural wood accents tucked within vibrant green foliage, and he stops in front of a wooden path that leads straight to the double front doors.

“This is the Platinum Villa. Your private code to access the property is the last four digits of your phone number. It is fully stocked with everything you could possibly need during your stay, but if you find anything amiss, please don’t hesitate to contact us and we will procure whatever you may desire. As a Premier guest, you also have priority seating for all reservations, including restaurants and entertainment. Just make note of that when calling ahead.”

“Thank you, Ikaia. We’ll be in touch if we encounter any issues.”

“You’re most welcome, Ms. Mitchell. Please reach out if the concierge team can be of any service.”

Sy steps out, using my hand to help guide me off the seat. With the midday sun directly overhead, the humidity is making my hair and my knee-length off-white-colored sundress stick to my damp skin. I’m ready for a little shade, maybe a margarita, and a moment of quiet where I can wrap my brain around this hellacious situation.

The man beside me steps up to the door, typing in the last four digits of my number without missing a beat, and the lock clicks open. His hand begins to press down on the handle, but he pauses.

“You ready to play nice?” His smirk makes the dimple in his cheek appear.

“I always play nice. I don’t know what you mean.”

“Sure ya do, Mitchell.”

“You doubt me?”

“Never.” My smile barely gets to take shape before he continues. “What I doubt is your ability to realize just how incredibly potent your intense Omega energy can be. Just try to…tone it down until we can feel them out, okay?”

“I’m not sure if that’s an insult or a compliment,” I mutter.

“It’s neither. Just fact. Now, c’mon.”

He pushes open one of the thick wooden doors, and we step inside. From where I’m standing, there’s a clear view of the pool and the ocean just beyond it through the floor-to-ceiling windows straight ahead. But that’s not what has my attention.

No. It’s the six-foot-seven wall of muscle stepping out of the pool and running his massive hands down his face. His hair is pulled up into a messy knot on the top of his head, and black swim trunks hug his thick thighs as water drips down the valleys separating all eight of his abs.

Nixon Brooks is here, which means Rafferty Sorensen and Flint Campbell are too.

The pack I’ve been doing a bang-up job of ignoring is the second party added to the reservation, and the ones I’ll be sharing this villa with.

Oh hell no. I’m going to fucking kill West Carter.