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His features are sharp and masculine. His pale skin is smooth and porcelain perfection. A platinum tousled mess of curls fall over his face, as he rests his head on his arms in a futile attempt to be comfortable on the dirt floor without a bed or mattress.
Even in his sleep, he’s shivering.
Ghost’s hair has a metallic shine, despite having been locked away from the sun.
He looks washed and looked after at least.
I shoot Lincoln a grateful glance. I knew that he’d be caring well for Ghost.
I swallow as I study the beautiful Omega.
Ghost’s hair is so fair that it reminds me of the doves that would sometimes nest in the Snake gardens when the weather was sunny.
Ghost is curled around himself, but I can tell that he’s small but athletic.
“Can you spot Sugar?” Lincoln whispers.
I take another step forward and then break into a grin.
A cat’s fluffy head is poking out of the blanket. Ghost is sharing the meager protection that he has to make sure that his cat isn’t cold.
I like Ghost already. I can see why Thomas and him get on.
Sugar is a pretty lilac point ragdoll with long silky white hair and warm, pink-toned markings on her head and ears. One bright blue eye opens and watches me warily.
Lincoln follows me, placing the tray close to Ghost, before backing up and leaning against the wall close to the stairs. “It’s good to see him sleeping deeply. He tends to hold on, too anxious and fearful, until his body kind of collapses on him. Remember that if he doesn’t answer, it’s because he’s mute. He has lots of other ways that he communicates. Tom fought with his dad over making sure that Ghost’s voice wasn’t taken from him.”
I narrow my eyes. “Good.”
“He’s highly vocal too. With me, it’s mostly growls but he does these cute little chirps with Tom. Any Omega would go feral, if they had to suffer their heats alone. But my little gambler here is fucking fierce, wild, and brave. He’s badass.”
Surprised, I catch Lincoln’s dreamy expression.
He’s focused on Ghost’s full, pink lips.
They are kissable.
But I know that look on Lincoln. He’s worn it, when he’s spoken about Thomas as well.
He’s falling for this feral Omega.
I don’t blame him.
Simply watching the way that Ghost’s curled on that thin blanket in the corner, trying to protect himself in the only way that he can without a nest, with Sugar both guarding and cuddling him, makes every protective part of me spring alive.
I pace across the freezing basement. “Why do you call him little gambler?”
“Play him at poker and find out. Fuck that, don’t. Ghost spends his days playing solo games with his pack of cards, which is the only thing that he was allowed to bring with him from his old pack. I think that he hid it in his pocket. I’m sure that the genius can count cards.” Lincoln whistles. “Shit, do you think that we could smuggle him out of here and take him to a casino with us? We’d clean up.”
“You’ve matched into a millionaire pack. You don’t need to worry about money anymore.”
Has that sunk in for Lincoln yet?
“Yeah,” Lincoln grins, “but think about the thrill.”
Lincoln is never going to stop being a rogue. I’d never want him to.
I stare down at the Omega who’s sleeping on the floor at my feet.
