iends of Dad’s, wearing suits expensive enough to purchase a brand-new car, they were a pack of exquisitely dressed predators lying in wait, something that was confirmed as I looked up. I smiled the practised sweet smile of an omega, ignoring the twitch of my facial muscles as I did so. My eyes, they skimmed over each one of them, taking in the casual slouches and broad fingers loosely clasping tumblers of expensive Scotch. There’d been a sea of them turning up for dinner since my twentieth birthday, but it was impossible to discern one from the other when he was here.
“Tristan, my boy,” Dad said as the new arrival appeared at the dining room doorway. He got to his feet and clasped the newcomer’s hands, much as he had mine, and for the same reason. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
There he was, the boy who’d plagued my dreams since childhood, part brother, part lover. We weren’t actually related. He was the son of our gardener and housekeeper, and we had grown up together. Initially, our friendship had just been childish games and hijinks, until it all changed. Eventually, the slender body of childhood gave way to a tall, muscular frame, his fingers long, sensitive, his too long, light brown hair shoved back by them as he regarded the table, the regulation white button-down shirt rolled up over thick forearms. He was the boy I’d always thought I’d marry. That every morning, I’d wake up and stare into those apple green eyes, stroke the dramatic planes of his face, all high cheekbones and sharp jaw.
Then he’d ruined our plans by revealing as an omega too.
“Theo sent me an invite, so I could hardly refuse,” Tristan replied, his mouth twisting into a smile. Then he looked down, supposedly at Theo, that was what was expected, so no one caught the moment his gaze skated over my brother and zeroed in on me. His eyes narrowed as he noted the dress, the updo, but most importantly, my bright red lips—lips my tongue flicked out and coated. A sharp snort of breath was all I got in recognition before Tristan turned back to Dad. “Your cook is the best in town, so…”
“Better than the slop they provide you at the academy?” Dad asked, slapping Tristan on the shoulder and then steering him over to the empty chair beside me.
Dad paused, frowning slightly at the seating arrangement. He didn’t mind Tristan sitting by me, assuming a male omega was no threat to his precious daughter, but preferred he was placed next to my other sibling. Dad’s focus shifted to Theo, who was chatting to some dude bro in a suit beside him. To force us to change would look weird, create a fuss where he didn’t want one, so he pulled the chair out for Tristan, who sat down with a catlike smile.
“You seat two omegas next to each other, Richard?” one of the men asked Dad, an elegant eyebrow arching, but his smile was lazy. “I’m all for pre-dinner entertainment, but the fur that’s going to fly may ruin people’s appetite.”
“Nonsense,” Dad replied crisply. “Tristan and Kit have grown up together. I find the stereotypes about omegas greatly exaggerated. Perhaps your spoilt little misses and misters may act up when too close to rivals, but not my Kit.”
A hand landed on his Kit’s knee, Tristan’s hand, then slid up and under the full skirt of taffeta and silk, burning my skin. His fingers tightened around the top of my thigh, making clear just how well we got on. As they moved higher, I was forced to turn to Tristan, stare into those penetrating green eyes, and smile like I would at my own brother. That was what he was supposed to be, though a poor cousin might be a better estimation.
Tristan had no Greyson blood in his veins, his parents having worked for our family for years, and when he’d revealed as an omega, Dad had stepped in, sponsoring his place in one of the best omega academies in the city. So there was nothing filial about our relationship, as was currently apparent by his hand that kept sliding higher.
“Tristan and I have always…” My reply was briefly truncated as his sensitive fingers curled around my inner thigh, high enough for him to feel that I’d decided to go without the expensive underwear Helen had left out. Tristan’s lips parted, his teeth shining white in the dining room light. “We have always had a good relationship. He’s virtually a part of the family.”
“Most civilised,” suit bro said to Dad, not us, and Dad? He smiled down at his two obedient omegas. I’d said exactly what he wanted, dressed how he wanted, comported myself with the level of elegance he wanted, and so did Tris, because Dad wanted Tristan for the family, for Theo.
But Tristan?
His little finger grazed against my bare mound, just a slight gesture to make sure I knew that he knew what kind of disgraceful position I’d put myself in. It was right about now, I questioned my life decisions. My body flushed, as it always did when Tristan was near, a hot release of slick coating my folds.
“We hope to make that official soon,” Dad said smugly as I turned to face the rest of the table. As the alphas all congratulated him, I thanked Christ I’d invested in those hideously expensive de-scenting tablets. They saturated my body, dulling my natural scent until its variations were undetectable, even when gushing all over Tristan’s fingers. But I wasn’t the one Dad hoped to join Tristan to.
“To Theo and Tristan,” one of the suits said, raising his glass, forcing us to do the same.
“To Theo and Tristan.” I mumbled the toast, the words ash in my mouth, while a fire burned between my legs. No one saw my true reactions, no one felt them but Tristan, as he pushed his fingers deep, taking me, claiming me in the only way he could—out of sight, secretly, while maintaining faces of perfect omegas.
I slouched down in my chair as low as I dared, allowing my thighs to spread wider. There was no fucking point in being a good girl, not when being bad let me feel this good.
Chapter 3
I placed my knife and fork neatly across my plate, indicating to the wait staff that I was finished, and I was. We’d had our nice three-course meal, but the small talk, the intrusive gazes across the table, even as the owners of them addressed all questions and comments to my father. Yeah, I was totally done with that. They were just following alpha to alpha protocol. They wouldn’t get a chance to approach me until Dad had okayed them, and he hadn’t, not yet. He was more circumspect now, after having let a stream of alphas come my way in the past, only for them to be firmly sent on their way.
As the meal drew to an end, people leaning back in their chairs, relaxing, the chit-chat about the workings of the alpha world coming to the fore, I shot a look at Theo. My brother’s eyes widened, then fell half closed as a long breath escaped him. He put his cutlery down too, dabbing at his mouth with a linen napkin before setting that down as well.
“You’ll have to excuse us, Father,” Theo said, cutting through the conversation with that rich, deep alpha voice. My sister, Cressida, looked up momentarily from where she was talking at length with her fiancé. She was only a beta, so the fact she had snagged an influential alpha as her husband to be had gained her much parental approval. Dad’s attention was pulled from the alphas around him, his eyes meeting Theo’s.
“The season has started again, and I thought I’d escort Tristan and Kit to one of the first events.”
“Kit needn’t bother herself with the season,” one of the men said. Farrington, one of the Farrington boys. “Most of the eligible alphas are in this room.”
Oh no, big mistake, dickhead.
I didn’t smirk or crow. The effort it took to keep my face neutral was damn near superhuman, but I managed it because I felt Tristan shift at my side, a small gesture, but one I knew all too well. He angled his body slightly towards mine, just taking a teeny bit of my personal bubble for himself.
“Of course, Theo,” Dad replied. “Their safety is your responsibility, and keep them out of the blasted papers. I’m sick of the gossip rags having a field day with this family’s business.”
“Will do.”
Then Dad returned his focus to the table.