Page 24 of Your Wild Omega (The Feral Actress #2)

Chapter nineteen

Callisto

Zack’s taking over this household like a parasite.

Just like his unrestrained smell, which oozes through the front door the moment I open it.

When Red said she’d train him to be on a leash, I imagined a timid man relying on his cherished omega for every breath.

Sure, he’s got enough testosterone to be a bit growly, but what I’m seeing extends far beyond possessiveness.

I set my keys down with a jingle of metal on the sideboard—right next to his collar and leash, which is coiled into a neat ring. As if it belongs to someone sophisticated. Why does seeing it there on my table irritate me, like a grass seed digging through my sock?

Fresh paint covers over Red’s hastily scribbled message from her last heat, reminding me her next one’s only a month and a half away.

It will be here before we know it. Will she let me help this time or will she take her fill from her two official alphas?

I think I know the answer, and it’s not in my favor.

I clench my fist. Red needs to accept me before then. Being on the outer circle is chilling me to the bone.

Moans sound from the other room and I freeze. When it was just Red and Rickon, they kept things civil upstairs and out of my sight. But now Zack’s roaming my apartment, it’s like he’s trying to rub their bond in my face.

I suck in a deep breath and round the wall dividing the front entrance from the open living and kitchen area, but I halt at the sight before me. A trail of discarded clothing litters the floor from here to the couch, where Zack’s balls-deep in Red.

What’s more shocking is Rickon bent naked over the bigger alpha’s shoulder, hands braced on Zack’s back. The feral’s fingers disappear between the pale alpha’s ass cheeks and my friend moans in erotic pleasure.

My heartbeat falters. He’s fucking Ricky too now?

From this angle I can’t see much of Red, except her shapely legs spread around his hips, and one arm thrown over the end of the couch.

But Rickon? His usually sleek hair falls forward to curtain his eyes, his pale skin’s bare and flushed, and his fingers dig into Zack’s back.

I’ve never seen my best friend so . . . unrestrained.

His thick lips quiver around every shattered breath as he sways with Zack’s thrusts.

My mouth fills with saliva, and blood courses through my dick.

Fuck, I shouldn’t stare. It’s not polite.

But it’s like an ancient pagan festival teleported into my living room, and I can’t look away.

Their naked bodies tangle together, their moans mingling into a sweet symphony that burns a trail from my ears to my alert cock.

What would it be like to shed my clothes, kick off my shoes, and join them? Dip my boner between Red’s velvet lips? Press my thumb into Rickon’s open mouth and have his breathless pants burn hot against my hand?

Heat flares across my cheeks. Rickon’s handsome and stylish, but I never saw him in that light.

Well, I liked our little touches and hugs, but I thought that was because we were so close, growing up together like family.

Right here and now, I can’t deny Rickon’s a fucking sexy man.

I brace myself against the wall as shock weakens my legs.

Zack turns his head. It’s just an inch, enough to bring his five-o’clock shadow and divided chin into sight, but it’s enough for me to know he’s assessing my presence. His hips flick forward, startling a moan from Red.

The primal fucker’s showing off. And he’s so strong, he doesn’t even need two good arms to do it.

Anger rises, hot and bitter, inside me. Logically, I can’t blame him. Anyone who possessed Red would want to brag about it. I would, if I were in his position.

Rickon lifts his head, sweat-soaked hair falling back as his dreamy eyes flutter open. He jerks and gasps as our eyes meet. “Fuck!” he hisses, scrambling to get off Zack.

The feral tightens his hold around Ricky’s waist, trapping him in place on his broad shoulder. He turns, grazing teeth and tongue across my best friend’s white hip in warning. Ricky moans, trembling. His nails dig deep into Zack’s skin, but the alpha doesn’t seem to notice.

Rage billows through me as my friend squirms. All I can think of is Rickon bruised and battered after his ex-boyfriend attacked him. “Let him go,” I snarl, striding forward. Where the hell are the OCB agents? Aren’t they supposed to stop this exact thing?

Zack tenses and lets out a warning growl that sounds more like it should come from a bear than a human. It sends a shiver down my spine, but I ignore it, reaching for Rickon.

Rickon recoils from my hand and covers his mouth, his cheeks burning. “I’m okay, Calli. I gave consent.”

I blink at him, astonishment whispering strange things through my mind. I mean, I knew Ricky bi, but seeing him like this is a whole different ball game. How can he give himself to an alpha who can barely speak?

Red struggles up on her elbows, sweat shining between her perky breasts. “Hey, Callisto,” she murmurs, smiling like she’s glad to see me. “We’re all good.”

My already excited dick does a hula dance.

Regret wracks me. I want to kneel and kiss her, but that means exposing my back to the vicious alpha fucking her like there’s no tomorrow.

And his alpha manner exudes an icy, rigid barrier between us.

Despite his sensual hold on both Red and Rickon, he vibrates with a side-eyed focus that’s directed at me. I’m not welcome.

The tension makes my lungs clamp up, like the room’s closing in. I can’t stay here. “So—so long as you’re fine,” I mutter, dragging my gaze away. Each step feels heavy as I climb the stairs.

Agent Pierce hovers on the landing, just out of sight but close enough to hear. He averts his gaze. “Welcome home, Callisto.”

“Thanks,” I grind out. Some welcome.

I came home hoping to hear about Red’s day on set, but I might as well have stayed at the office. Work is simple. I know what to do when it comes to my job. Omegas and packs? That’s a different matter entirely.

Growling under my breath, I remove my vest, loosen my top buttons, and set up in my small office. I slam the door shut against the breathy moans rising up the stairwell, but I can’t get the visuals out of my head.

Nor the blood out of my cock.

I unzip my straining pants and lean back in the plush chair as my throbbing dick jumps into my hand, ready for action.

My omega’s downstairs, making love to another.

It tears at my heart, and I curse myself all over again as I stroke my length.

If only she were here, straddling my lap. If only I could call her mine.

And Rickon?

I puff air through my cheeks and tug harder, the first hint of electric thrill rising in my belly.

I always wondered what kind of face he’d make during sex, whether his stylish, polished look would fall away.

And now that I’ve seen it, him blown to abandonment with the flush of lust, I can’t get the image out of my head.

I bite down on a faint moan and finger my sensitive cock tip. What would he think about these thoughts I’m having? Would he welcome me? Take my aching dick into his mouth and suck?

I gasp as pressure throbs between my fingers. The tingling explodes in a heady rush, up my spine and out my length.

The heat flushes all the way up my neck. I’ve jerked off to the sounds of Red before, but never Rickon specifically. Something in my life has shifted, but I can’t put my finger on it. Or maybe I can.

Pack is more than the omega heart. I fooled myself into thinking I didn’t need a pack, but now the harsh truth haunts me. As the saying goes, you only realize what you have after you’ve lost it.

I pluck tissues from the box on the bookshelf with aggressive force that sends the tissue box tumbling. Once I’ve cleaned up, I curl my hand in a fist onto the armrest. I cannot endure this torment much longer.

A knock sounds on my door, shaking me loose from my study of case details relating to corporate identity theft.

“Come in,” I call, screen-locking my laptop.

The door glides open and Rickon sticks his head around. His skin flushes pink and his hair plasters his scalp, still wet from the shower. “Busy?”

I throw him a lopsided smile.

He chuckles. “Dumb question, yeah?”

“Always got time for you,” I reassure, and he slips inside. I only have one chair in here, so I clear space off my desk and pat the surface. Rickon squeezes by me to rest his ass there, and a tight knot in my chest eases. At least we still share this easy camaraderie.

He clenches his hands together in his tilted lap. “Sorry about before. That can’t have been easy for you, happening in your own home.”

I lean back with a sigh and run my hand through my hair. My gaze drops to the trash can under my desk. He can’t see the tissues, right? Or smell what I did while thinking about him and Red?

“You don’t need to apologize, Ricky,” I offer. “I invited an omega, and you, into my home, knowing what I was getting into.”

He studies me, and apprehension fizzes in my chest under his close survey. “But you didn’t invite her second alpha.”

I groan and lean my elbows on my desk beside his hip. “No, I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want him here. It’s just . . .” Damn, how do I explain this? “He gives me this look, like he’s evaluating me, you know?”

Ricky nods. “He’s trying to figure things out, and he doesn’t have many reference points.”

“Don’t take his side,” I grumble into my hands.

Ricky laughs and ruffles my hair, and for a moment it feels like we’re back in high school. But I can’t help noticing he doesn’t correct me. Am I losing my best friend as well?

I swallow around a lump in my throat. “Are you really okay with his touch? He’s not forcing you?” I lean back and swivel my chair so I can see his expression. My knee bumps against his leg.

My friend turns strangely wistful and the corners of his mouth arch upward. “Red taught him what consent means, and he asks every time. It’s pretty cute, actually.” He chuckles, and the noise eats at me.

I fold my arms across my chest to press down the pain. “I just can’t help seeing that fucker who left you with a bruised throat.”

His beautiful pale green eyes widen. “What? No, no. This is nothing like that.” A red flush tints his cheeks as he drops his gaze. “I actually like it a bit rough.” He flinches and grimaces. “Sorry, TMI, right?”

He flashes an apologetic smile, and a pang squeezes my heart.

As if Ricky, who’s been through hell ever since he was a child but still always had my back, should ever apologize to me.

But now that it rings in my ears, I recall he says sorry a lot.

Have I been the kind of friend he needs to be apologetic around? Did I give him a reason to hide?

“I don’t mind,” I say gruffly, wrestling with the swirling emotions. “You can be real with me.”

“Yeah.” Something incomprehensible flashes through his eyes but then it withers, and he pastes on a smile. Like hope dying.

What did I do? Is it because I didn’t accept Red when I had the chance? Or is it because I missed the fact he was suffering? I grip his knee, silently begging for my friend to come back to me. “This is your home too, Ricky. Please feel at ease here.”

Because if he doesn’t, he’ll move out, and so will Red. Cold fear grips my stomach.

Ricky chuckles. “Well, we made ourselves at home on your couch pretty well.”

I grin. “I did notice.” The flicker of tension between us vanishes, but the one in my gut remains. I force it aside. “On another note, I was thinking about Red’s upcoming heat, and I had an idea.”

Ricky brightens with interest. “Oh?”

I pull out my phone and thumb through an Ominterest account about nests. “Yeah, look at this. She hates confined spaces, so I was wondering if we could do anything with the rooftop.”

His brows jump as he takes the phone. “You own the roof space too?”

I spread my hands. “Not own, per se, but top floor privileges. If you’re interested, I was thinking of approaching the complex's management group.”

Rickon thumbs through the gallery of unusual nests and murmurs under his breath. “Callisto, this is really something.” He flashes me a sly grin. “Been thinking about her heat much?”

“Not at all,” I lie with a straight face, making him laugh.

He turns the phone back to show me a space that no one would guess is a nest from first glance. It looks like a tropical getaway. “This.”

I grab the phone, wrapping my fingers around his under the guise of getting a better look at the picture. “That’s my favorite too. Great minds.” I don’t finish the old maxim, but he grins, knowing it.

“Should we ask Red?” he ponders.

“How about a surprise, since she’s always surprising us?” I suggest. “Not all of it, but the framework. If she doesn’t like it, we’ll tear it down and start again, or use it for something else.”

He frowns at the idea of reckless spending, but he can’t hide the excited light in his gaze.

“If I manage the building contractors, can you take care of the outfitting?” I pull out one of my credit cards and offer it to him between two fingers.

He shakes his head, pushing the card away. “I have money now.”

“Please, Ricky?” I beg shamelessly. “I’m already on the outside of your pack, and I’m dying of jealousy. Let me do something.”

He takes the card, playing it between his fingers. “Jealousy?” he asks, running a fingertip over the embossed numbers.

I turn away, my gaze dropping to the cityscape on my screen saver. “You were right, Ricky.” With a pained scoff, I add, “You always are. I fucked up big-time. Couldn’t see past the case in front of me, and now I regret it so much.”

He nudges my leg with his. “Is that why you’re courting her?”

“Not so subtle, huh?”

Rickon snorts. “Subtle isn’t really your strong suit.”

“Not really how I built my career,” I agree.

We share another smile.

Then I ask, “Does it bother you?”

He shakes his head. “Of course not. I—I always imagined us ending up in a pack together.” He sighs, and when he lifts his gaze, it’s filled with pain. “But this is Red’s choice, so you have to ask her. I’m hers, Callisto, all in. Where she goes, I go.”

There it is, the truth I knew but never wanted to hear. Through everything that’s happened since grade school, Ricky was always on my team, but now he’s taking a stance—and for the first time, he isn’t prioritizing me.

I nod, a little breathless. “Yeah, I get it. I’ll ask—I mean, I am asking her.”

Rickon smiles and rises. “Then I wish you good luck. Don’t forget, it’s not just her anymore.” When he closes the door, it feels as if he takes all the oxygen with him.

I knead my palm into my chest. It’s not like I’ve lost Ricky, and nothing’s really changed in our relationship, so this shouldn’t hurt so much. But for some reason, it’s agonizing.