Page 33 of Your Wild Omega (The Feral Actress #2)

Chapter twenty-seven

Red

Rickon gently shakes me awake. “Get up, Red. I let you sleep as long as I could.”

I grumble and try to roll over, but he catches me with a chuckle.

“Don’t be like that. It’s ten a.m.” He levers me upright.

Without opening my eyes, I lean my head on his shoulder. “But dawn was showing before Zack finished having his way with us.”

Rickon peppers tiny kisses through my hair. “True, but today was the only day I could get an appointment at the hospital to take his cast off.”

I pry one eye open. “We’re not on set today?”

His smile flashes all the way to his beautiful green eyes. “Nope, because of the film festival, remember?”

“Oh, right.” I stretch both arms high and groan as I work out the kinks.

Right, most celebrities, including the director, are attending the three-day film festival.

We bought tickets to only the opening gala because I didn’t want to put Zack through hours of sitting in cinemas to watch the various films, even though Rickon and I would’ve loved it. Next year might be different.

Yesterday was the first day, with the opening gala .

. . everything that happened rushes in. I plop back onto the bed and stare at the ceiling.

Callisto asked for a second chance. He got down on his knees and apologized, and we still said no.

My stomach churns. Am I a horrible omega for feeling relieved this came to a head?

Relieved that Zack made the choice for me?

At the same time, I sense a wound in my heart that won’t ever fully heal. An absence of a soulmate.

“Come on, sleepy head,” Rickon says, hauling on my arms. “We gotta get moving.”

My head throbs a little with a hangover, and something more besides. “Where’s Zack?” I ask, swinging my legs over the bed.

“In the shower.”

His eyes are red-rimmed and another pang runs through my heart as we silently assess each other. He’s probably also wondering if he should bring up the topic or not.

I sigh. “And Callisto? Have you messaged him?” Just saying his name makes a gob of pressure expand in my throat.

“Yeah.” His gaze drops to the tangled comforter. “He stayed at a hotel. He said not to worry about him.” My alpha sucks his bottom lip through his teeth.

I rub sleep crust from my eyes as I digest his report. Of course Callisto has the money to stay at a hotel any time. He probably has a second house somewhere. But I still feel uneasy for him. And for myself.

“We’ll need to look for a new house,” I muse, studying the walls. This place grew on me. Like the sign over the bed instructs, I got cozy. I enjoyed living in Callisto’s house, knowing he’d come and go and we’d at least see him occasionally.

I guess I wanted to tie Callisto to me as well. That’s why I never looked into hiring a different lawyer and told myself I was too busy to go house hunting. But now we’ve crossed a line. Something broke. Even the hum in my head belonging to the absent alpha seems quieter.

“Come on.” Rickon steps back and offers me both hands. “Stop getting lost in the dark. We need to go.”

I let him haul me to my feet, wishing I had a bond with both my alphas so I could know what he’s thinking. He covers it well, but I’m sure he’s hurting too.

Rickon plays the role of a sweet drill sergeant, getting Zack out of the shower and me in—with no crossover allowed because we “don’t have time for more canoodling.”

Some hot water, a painkiller, and a coffee later, I feel more human. When Rickon tries to get Zack’s collar on, the bigger alpha sweeps him off his feet and kisses him soundly before allowing the leather to close around his neck.

Rickon and I both giggle, and Zack looks smug.

Although Zack steals constant glances at me, he remains calmer than ever as we go through the process of loading into a car with an OCB agent riding in the front with Rickon. I wonder if it’s because he’s now assured of his position in our household.

We hold hands for the drive, and I run my fingertips over the scars on his hands.

Who’d believe that a wildling alpha who’s only been out in the world for a month could bring so much dominance to the table?

I can’t wait to call Rose and tell her everything that’s happened.

Her ginger alpha, Colt, had pack leader vibes all over him, so no way one of her ferals would challenge him for the position.

I mean, they might try, but they’d never win against him. At least, I don’t think so.

Zack wouldn’t even understand what the title means. For him, it was all instinct.

Rickon easily finds parking in the hospital lot among the half-full bays.

Zack eyes the five-story building warily but obediently follows us through the sliding doors.

In fact, he shows no sign of the dominance he manifested last night, except for his ever-present powerful scent.

Like me, he knows how to act. The idea makes me smile.

Even Rickon hid his crush on Callisto for years.

We’re a family of actors.

We have to wait a while before the doctor can see us, so I sit on Zack’s lap while Rickon scrolls through searches for rental properties, showing me ones he thinks might work.

“No, hold on. It doesn’t have a tub,” he mutters, returning to scrolling. “This one doesn’t have parking. Kitchen’s too small.”

It’s just a guess, but he seems like he doesn’t want to leave Callisto’s apartment either.

“Zackary Jones?” the nurse calls, making us all twitch.

I stand up and tug Zack to his feet. “Let’s go, alpha. This is coming off today.” I tap on his cast, which, with its frayed edges, teeth marks, and stains, looks like it’s ready to fall off on its own.

The doctor, a rotund man with curly gray hair scans us up and down, eyeing the length of the leash. “I’m not sure how to proceed here. The notes say Zackary was rescued from a fighting ring and broke his arm in prison?”

“That’s true,” I say. “But he’s very obedient.” In public, at least. I offer a reassuring smile.

The doctor scratches his nose. “We might all be safer if he’s restrained first. With more than a leash, I mean.”

I shake my head. “No, that won’t be necessary.” I don’t want to see my alpha chained up ever again.

He holds my gaze, and it seems he’s genuinely concerned. “With all due respect, ma’am, the cutter is quite noisy and produces quite a few vibrations. The blade itself won’t cut skin, but what if he gets upset?”

“Let him hear it first,” Rickon suggests.

“And I’ll sit on top of him,” I add. “And Agent Josef will step in if he looks like he’s getting aggressive.”

The doc sighs and makes a few notes on his computer. “All right, let’s try.” He gives us a demo of the cast saw, and it sounds like we’ve stepped into a carpenter’s workshop.

Zack stiffens, upper lip curling.

I guide my wary alpha into the chair and push his hand down onto the wide armrest. “You need to keep your arm here, and the doctor’s going to cut through the cast, Zack. Can you manage that?”

He stares up at me with trusting eyes as I climb onto his lap, knees on either side of his hips. “Stay,” I order sternly.

Zack freezes in place, his blue eyes fixed on me. I run my finger over the bumps in his nose where it’s been broken, probably more than once, and then lock my hand around his elbow, holding him in place. Talk about exercises in trust.

The saw starts up. Zack’s eyes widen and he throws both arms around me and tugs, turning my body away from the doctor. Bless him, trying to shield me.

“No, Zack,” I repeat as the saw cuts off. I push his arm back onto the ledge. “Stay.”

He grumbles quietly and still turns me away, but this time he leaves his hand in place. His eyes narrow on the saw as it touches his cast.

I turn his face back to me. “We’re good. You won’t be itchy there anymore, and I’ll get to see a part of you I haven’t seen before.”

Zack’s nose wrinkles. Then his lips quiver. A noise I’ve never heard before, a hissing, snorting sound, escapes him.

“Bugger me,” Rickon says, cupping both hands over his mouth. “He’s laughing.”

Zack writhes, his healed arm quivering but not leaving the armrest. His eyes squint shut as fresh bubbles of laughter squeeze through his gasping mouth. So fucking cute.

The saw cuts out. Even the doctor grins. “Some people do find the vibrations ticklish. Almost done.” He gets out a pair of scissors with a longer bottom blade and cuts through the inner padding. The cast peels open.

Zack peers down at the opened cast. The skin beneath is paler than the rest of his arm, holding a grayish hue which makes the dark hairs stand out more. My alpha stares in wonder as I release his elbow.

The doctor guides the alpha’s thumb and little finger toward each other. “Can you squeeze these?”

Zack touches his tips together.

“Good. Now try a fist.” The doctor demonstrates and Zack imitates him.

Then my alpha leans around me to stroke the injured arm, gazing in wonder. Probably seems like magic to him. I slide off his lap to give him space.

The doctor scoots his chair away and taps into his computer again.

“Give it a gentle wash and pat dry when you get home. Apply some moisturizer too. The skin will likely take a few days to return to normal. Just make sure he doesn’t pick at it.

” He prints off instructions for some follow-up exercises and cautions us that Zack might have a little pain for the next week or so.

Butterflies flutter through my tummy. The last trace of Zack’s time in Alpha Lodgings is gone. And he laughed. I guess time heals many things. Maybe there’s hope for me too. Maybe the other Red won’t always hold me hostage, and the hole in my heart from an absent alpha will close over. Eventually.

Rickon leans in and runs his palm over Zack’s forearm. “Looks good, hot stuff.”

Zack vibrates with a silent laugh, and I trail my fingertips across his bare skin, making him break into another chuckle. I want to hear that sound every day from now on. Judging by the grin on Rickon’s face, he’s thinking the same thing.

“Thanks, doc,” I say before we head out.

He nods. “I think you’re doing a wonderful thing, young lady. Let’s get him back in eight weeks for a full checkup including blood work, okay?”

Once we pay the bill and pile back in the car, Rickon swivels in his seat. “Where to now? I can’t believe this, but we actually have a free day.”

I should tell him to take us to a real estate agent, but I don’t want to. I hum under my breath, thinking of what I’ve read about the city. “We could go to the zoo,” I suggest.

“No,” Rickon says immediately, voice hard. He rubs his face and softens. “I, ah, I think that would be too overwhelming for Zack. Remember the dog incident?”

“Right.” How could I forget? If he thought a dog was a threat, imagine him laying eyes on a lion. “How about a park, then?”

Rickon’s gaze slides across to the leash dangling from Zack’s neck. I chuckle, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. “Yeah, let’s take him for a walk.”

But I’m the one who needs it more. I want to dig my feet into the grass and let the wind ruffle my hair, and remind myself I’m alive.

Rickon’s phone buzzes as we’re getting out. His expression falters as he reads the message.

“What is it?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “We’ve got a court date with my ex.”

My top lip curls up instinctively. That big bulky bastard who attacked us? “Damn. I’d nearly forgotten about that asshole.”

Rickon leans in and rests his forehead on mine. “You don’t have to be there.”

I clasp his cheeks in my hands. “But I will be.”

His smile is worth everything. “I love you, Red Jones.”

I give him my answer by pressing my lips to his. Hot as our kiss is, it doesn’t drive out the chill sliding through my veins. If that court case is soon, I bet the fucker from the House of Bitches will be next. I couldn’t bear to look him in the eye in a courtroom.

But what if he walks free?