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“Our fated,” Lincoln repeats.
Slick gushes from my pussy at the thought, and I twist onto my back. I writhe, struggling not to push my hand down to rub over my aching clit.
The thought of being caught between these two powerful men — of being fated mates to each of them — makes my head spin.
Plus, something has changed in Lincoln’s tone, when he talks about Thomas.
There isn’t a dark edge to his words anymore.
They must truly be getting along.
I bite my lip. “You like him.”
“He’s mine,” Lincoln says, possessively. “And I protect what’s mine.”
Anxiety shoots through me, clearing my mind.
“What are you protecting him from?” I ask.
“Who,” Lincoln replies. He pulls himself up from his knees and sits next to me on the bed. “We’ll talk about this more after your heat. But there’s a mystery here that I’m still unraveling. I respect Tom. Why? He treats his staff and Betas well. He looks after everyone else’s needs before his own. He’s been away himself from Haven and only recently got back. What’s wrong in his pack is down to the mayor and not him.”
I scowl. “He followed orders in our bakery.”
Lincoln looks like he’s choosing his words carefully. “Don’t we all know about wearing masks? But underneath, Tom’s broken.”
“Why?” I worry at a frayed thread on the peacock’s wing.
“That’s his story. I don’t know if he’ll be able to talk about it. Fuck, I couldn’t.” Lincoln reaches up to tuck back the stray curl that always falls in front of his eye. The familiarity of the gesture makes me relax again. “Move over.”
I roll my eyes. “There’s a wet patch.”
“I’m normally the one saying that,” Lincoln teases.
Lincoln clambers carefully into the nest.
“You’ll wreck your beautiful suit,” I protest.
“I’ve got the money to dry clean it,” Lincoln replies, proudly. “Tom put my first salary in an account for me as an advance. He doesn’t charge for food or lodging either like I was expecting him to. I’m going to spoil you with every dollar that you don’t need for your bakery.”
His eyes are glittering with pride and joy.
“It’s your money.” I nuzzle against Lincoln’s neck. He wraps his arms around me. “I want you to buy something that makes you happy.”
“Buying treats for my Omega will make me happy.”
I purr.
I am an Omega, after all.
What Omega doesn’t feel treasured when they’re given a gift that truly means something? And this — Lincoln finally being able to afford to buy me things — means everything to him.
So, it does to me as well.
“I’ll get you through this heat. I have a tray with Gatorades, chocolate, and fruit all ready. For the next twenty-four hours, while Tom and you are lost in the frenzy of your heat and ruts, I’ll care for you.” Lincoln smiles like this is the best thing to ever happen to him. I trust him. I know that he’ll look after both of us. “But first, I have something to tell you.”
The sudden seriousness of his tone snaps me even further out of my haze.
What the hell is he going to say?
