Page 11 of Worthy or Knot (Serendipity Omegaverse #3)

Eleven

MARCUS

M y heart beats so fast I can feel it in my throat.

I’ve rubbed elbows with some of the wealthiest people in the world, and none of those moments compare to the all-consuming pit of anxiety my body has become today.

Charlotte grabs my hand as Megan sets up the laptop in the living room, arranging it so the three of us can be seen in the camera.

She kisses my cheek before tucking her head against my shoulder.

I wrap an arm around her waist and bring her tighter into me, smiling into the crown of her head when her sage scent slowly engulfs us.

Megan disappears into the kitchen before reemerging with two glasses of water and Charlotte’s half-finished smoothie.

“All right,” she says as she perches on the other side of Charlotte. “Don’t forget we need to get his number. That’s priority number one so we can communicate after tonight. And then we need to see about where he lives and his thoughts on moving out here.”

There’s that lump in my throat again, ready to choke me just like it has every time I’ve thought about this damn video call throughout the day.

I probably should have just opted to work out of office, but the reality is that I would have paced like a caged animal and driven Charlotte mad with my nervousness.

Best to just sequester myself in my office uptown instead.

At exactly nine, the video call lets us in, and a man in his mid-twenties fills the only other square on the screen. He offers a polite greeting to each of us.

“Good evening, Pack Harper. We appreciate you being willing to facilitate a call this late,” he offers, shuffling a couple pieces of paper and then adjusting his black-rimmed glasses.

“Mr. Fallon is just getting logged in and going through some questions with my associate. Do you have any questions for me while we wait?”

Charlotte’s the one who answers.

“I don’t believe so.”

The man nods, and then something draws his attention away from us. “Ah, here he is. Let me get him added.”

He clicks something, and then there’s another screen.

My heart jumps. Cole’s in a plain green shirt that stretches across his chest, highlighting the subtle strength of his arms. The color brings out the golden flecks of his eyes despite the artificial lighting of his home.

Yellowing bruises sit under his eyes and around his nose, leftovers from that Alpha assaulting him at the gala.

But aside from those, there’s no evidence it happened.

“Good evening, Mr. Fallon,” the Council staff says warmly.

Cole offers a smile and polite greeting back.

“This call will automatically end in an hour, so don’t panic if it shuts off randomly. I encourage you to exchange contact information before anything else. After this, you’ll be free to interact as you wish. Final paperwork is due on the 24th.”

The employee logs off, and then it’s just us and Cole.

“Hi, I’m Charlotte.” She leans forward and waves. “And this is Megan.”

Megan offers a greeting.

“I’m Cole,” he says, that same warm tenor. His eyes flick from them to me, and then his cheeks darken with a blush. He starts to say something but is cut off by a feminine voice.

“Everything working?”

Cole raises an eyebrow and focuses on someone we can’t see.

The movement has the collar of his shirt shifting, revealing part of his bond scar.

My scar. All at once, nutmeg fills the room and the need to touch him, taste him is consuming me.

Cole’s eyes flash back to the screen as he clears his throat.

“It’s fine, Vi,” he says hoarsely. “I do know how to work a video conference.”

Someone laughs, and there’s the sound of skin smacking.

“Pretty Omega,” a low voice with a southern drawl says, “he’s perfectly fine. Stop hovering.”

“Apologies, Cole,” someone with a heavy Italian accent says. “We will go distract her.”

There’s an outraged squeal before the sound of footsteps and then a door closing.

“I am so sorry,” Cole says, that flush he’d had before creeping down his neck. “She promised she wouldn’t interrupt.”

“Who was it?” Megan asks.

“My sister, Violet.” He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. When he focuses on us again, there’s an easy smile curving his lips. “Anyway, it’s great to meet you both. How long have you guys been registered with the Council?”

“Just under a year,” Charlotte says.

Another stilted silence.

I lean forward and rest an elbow on my knee, forcing Charlotte to readjust a bit. Cole’s gaze locks on our entwined hands, and for a heartbeat, I feel his confusion just under my sternum like a gnawing ache.

“Charlotte and I have been together for just under two years,” I explain into the quiet. “Megan’s been a close friend since college, but we didn’t reconnect until I took a job with the New York Philharmonic at the beginning of the last season.”

Nothing comes through the bond, but something about his posture tells me he’s not as worried anymore.

“You’re in Seattle?” Megan asks before Cole can say anything else. “Are you in school there?”

Cole shakes his head. “I’m not currently studying.”

“All right, so there’s not a school start we need to try and navigate around,” Megan says. “That will simplify some of this, at least. Cross country moves are labor intensive as it is.”

Cole’s lips curve into a small smile. “Yeah, for most people I imagine they are.” He clears his throat again and then says in a rush, “Listen. My father is Johnathan Fallon.”

“What?” I don’t mean to utter the question. And then, because apparently I’ve lost all control of my mouth, I say, “That’s why you were at that hotel. You were there with your parents.”

Charlotte looks up at me, but I can’t pull my focus away from the screen.

Cole shifts, clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah. It’s not something…” He blows out a breath and shrugs. “Cameras follow me. They have since I was a teen, and the events of the last six weeks have made it notably worse.”

What’s happened the last couple months to make the spotlight worse for him?

Charlotte sucks in a breath.

“ Wait . Fallon as in Fallon Capital?” Charlotte asks. “The pack that’s going through a nasty dissolution right now? They’re your parents?”

Dissolutions are the pack equivalent of a divorce.

They are messy and a logistical nightmare in even the best scenarios, involving both the Unified Council and the local governments of where the pack lives.

Add in any kind of public-facing persona or significant assets?

I can’t even imagine how much of a headache it must be.

“I have that honor, though I’m only in contact with my dads,” Cole says dryly.

“Look, fame sounds exciting in the abstract, but in reality it’s pretty invasive even just in the periphery.

Choices made by my mother have made it to where I’m on the periphery way more than I’d like.

I’d understand if it’s not something you’d want to navigate. ”

We’re all silent. Nerves sit in my stomach like a stone, and I can’t even tell if they’re his or mine. Mine, right? I can hardly feel him anymore. Even that bit of confusion was short-lived. But then it doubles, and I realize it must be his, too.

God, I want to comfort him, crawl through the screen until I can run my hand down his arm and scent-mark him so he knows I’ll do anything for him. Which I will. But the girls?

I force my gaze away from the screen and look at them, trying to figure out how they’re feeling about it. Megan’s lips are pursed, her eyebrows furrowed, as she looks first at Charlotte and then me. When she turns back to Cole, she says, “We’re not opposed.”

There’s uncertainty in her voice, though, and Cole notices.

He grimaces again. “The cameras are probably going to be worse this weekend because it’s the final hearing for their dissolution, at least for the Council portion of it.”

“That’s some kind of timing,” Charlotte says, her voice lighter now. “The Council must have a sick sense of humor.”

“Something like that.” Cole laughs and then shrugs. “Anyway, I was thinking maybe you could come out here for the weekend? It’s a lot easier for me to hide from the cameras out here than in New York City. I’d happily pay for it all, so don’t worry about that.”

Fly out to him? It never occurred to me to meet him where he lives, where he’s most comfortable, and that’s shameful.

I berate the Council putting the Omegas in such a stressful environment at those damn galas but then immediately assumed he’d bend for us instead of the other way around.

Charlotte and Megan both look at me, trying to gauge how I’m feeling.

“Yeah, of course,” I say, focusing on Cole. His shirt shifts again, and I see the edge of the silver scar. My gut tightens in anticipation. “What’s your number? I can figure out the logistics on this side. We’d be happy to fly out and spend the weekend with you.”