Page 20 of Your Wild Omega (The Feral Actress #2)

He chuckles. “I’d say “anytime” but then I’d worry you’d go and do it again, and none of my arguments will work a second time.”

I hold up my hands in surrender and shake my head. “No second time. The first one shaved years off my life.”

Callisto snorts. “I hope not.”

I drop my hands and brush against the soft petals of the roses on the counter. “Last thing,” I say, tracing my index finger around a blossom. “What can I send to the truck driver as an apology gift?”

This time, the alpha laughs loudly. “That poor guy didn’t know what in hell was going on.” He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Don’t send him anything until after the charges get finalized. We can’t have it looking like any kind of payment.”

“Oh, good idea.” Yeah, I hadn’t thought of that, but luckily Callisto did. I nod and sip more wine, but a bubble pops right under my nose, making me sneeze.

“But don’t worry,” Callisto says after I’ve finished sneezing. “I’ll represent Lionel or get his case transferred to someone I trust at our Darinian branch. Once it’s over, we can send him a client appreciation gift, something like season VIP basketball passes.”

“Oh, that sounds great. If he’s not into basketball, he can sell it for cash?”

Callisto nods. “Does that set your mind at ease?”

“Yeah, all immediate worries ticked,” I say, smiling. This man’s going all out for me, and not just with the legal stuff. I lick a little of the wine off my lips and pick up a rose. “I assume these are for me?”

Callisto flashes me a silly grin. “Looks like you have an admirer. Must be a house fairy.”

“Uh-huh.” I chuckle, lifting the rose to my nose. “One who happens to smell like you.”

His lips twitch, the corners dipping into his cheeks.

Not quite dimples, but impressions. Callisto leans on the bench and slides the long, narrow case by the vase closer to me.

“I just—well, we never got to talk about it, so I wanted to say how honored I was to help you through your heat. Don’t feel pressured. I simply wanted to express myself.”

Curious, I flip the box open. Inside, a bracelet nestles on navy satin, the rows of diamonds glittering under the down lights. They twinkle as I turn the box to run my finger over the small square links set in white gold.

“Shit, Callisto,” I murmur. “It’s beautiful.” Very elegant and eye-catching. The sparkles seem to swarm inside me as I recall my heat, Callisto reaching under the cut door to bring me sweet relief.

I glance over at the library, the wooden door now replaced by iron bars. “Thanks for helping, and rearranging your house,” I murmur, pressing the individual settings under my finger as I stroke the bracelet.

“Want to put it on?” he asks, his thickened tone making me think he’s remembering too.

I nod, and he lays the cool metal over my skin and attaches the two ends. His fingers linger momentarily on the back of my hand. If I had any doubts Callisto Wren was trying to woo me, they vanish under that warm touch as he slides the bracelet into position and cradles my wrist between his hands.

“Gorgeous.”

I wet my tongue with a little wine, swallowing the emotion rising in my throat. Why couldn’t he have done this the first day we met? Why did he wait until after I saw how wholeheartedly my other two alphas would love me?

I tug my arm free under the guise of inspecting the jewelry. “It’s stunning,” I say. Too much, perhaps. Clearing my throat softly, I add, “I’m not quite myself when I’m in heat.”

His expression falls as I draw the line between us again.

I stroke the bracelet, watching the diamonds twinkle with every movement.

It really is lovely; it’s the kind of gift Alpha Spy would give to his damsel.

My heart aches and I immediately regret the distance I placed between us.

Am I doing the right thing, pushing him away?

I drop my gaze and cover the bracelet with one hand.

Maybe I owe him an explanation of some sort. “I think you know enough about me to know why my heats have never been a good thing,” I say hesitantly. None of this would have happened if my heats didn’t turn me into a different person.

Callisto reaches out and lightly traps my fingers. “I know, Red. You don’t have to go there, for me or anyone.” His voice cracks, like he’s experiencing the pain himself, and I glance up in surprise.

The deep sorrow in his expression catches me off guard. Looks like he might cry. “I’m so sorry you went through all that. It should never have happened.”

An uneasy sensation flickers inside me. Sometimes I forget Callisto’s viewed all the case files coming out of the House of Bitches. We exist in an uncomfortable space where he knows more about me than possibly anyone else out there, and our scents draw us together. And yet, we live at arm’s length.

When I’m with him, I don’t hear his voice in my head, but when we’re apart, there’s still a murmur, although it grew fainter since Zack brought a bond into my life. I press my fingers to my chest. Will his remaining voice continue to fade as it’s replaced by bonds?

I’d rather not think about it.

“Thanks for the bracelet. And the roses,” I say, polishing off the last of my wine and standing up. “Your pants got ripped, but it’s through the seam, so I’m pretty sure Rickon can sew it up like new.”

Callisto waves my words away. “Don’t worry about it. Ricky’s a wizard with a needle and thread, and if not, it’s just clothes.” He hesitates before collecting the glasses and rinsing them. “If you want, I can set up an appointment with my tailor for Zack to get his own fitted suit.”

His offer sounds genuine, but I can’t help thinking we’re getting too tangled. I owe him too much.

I shake my head. “No, I don’t think Zack wants anyone but us that close to him yet. We’ll find something off the rack.”

“Sure. Makes sense.”

I arrange all the roses together in the vase and collect the pile of clothes.

A little rain spatters on the windows, blurring the city lights spread out below us.

In such a short time, this place has morphed into my home, but with Callisto’s scent swirling around me, I’m reminded this is his apartment.

I tiptoe back upstairs in search of my headphones and script recording, only to find Zack’s pulled Rickon into his arms. A fond smile catches on my lips, my troubles melting away as I stare down at them. I’ll need to look for a new home for us, since my family has grown.

But the problem is, I have no time. Filming starts in three days, and we’ll need to take Zack out in public as much as possible, plus I have to go back to Hannah’s shop for fittings, now that I’m her brand ambassador.

Assuming we didn’t scare her off with Zack’s antics today.

Plus, I’ll have more riding lessons next week, and I need to start my independent therapy appointments soon. House hunting is not on the agenda.

I’ve never been busy like this in my life. It’s uncomfortable to be trapped by time rather than space or people. Maybe this is how Callisto lives, tied to his work responsibilities. I wouldn’t really know since I’ve never had a job before—but that’s about to change.

Since it’s too late at night now to call, I shoot off a text message to Rose, asking for the fund details. At least no other alphas should experience what Zack went through, especially with Callisto helping. With that out of the way, I can turn my focus back to work.

I fast-forward the recording through the opening scene instructions, then slip on the headphones. As I tug the round parts down over my ears, the rose I put there earlier falls into my lap, the rest of the stem snapping clean off.

Callisto’s courting me, and while my omega nature sings in triumph, the reasoning part of my brain isn’t as excited. Some things don’t get a do-over, and meeting your scent match is one of those times. I’ve been scarred too badly to face rejection again.

Will Callisto be part of my healing, or just another heartbreak?

I clutch the mangled rose tight and press play.