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Paige purrs, nuzzling against his palm. “Where’s Rhett?”

“He had to take a call.”

Instantly, both Paige and I become tense.

“Hell, it’s nothing bad. Sorry.” Angel massages Paige’s shoulder, but I flinch away from his hand. “Forget it. He just had some shit with his department to deal with. It’s my turn with our Omega, right? I’m here, okay?” Then he turns to me. “Put your head down.”

When I growl at him, he doesn’t look intimidated.

He better not reckon that he can continue to order me around.

I only obey Rhett.

Angel smirks, kneeling up. “I’m not trying to be a dominant asshole like Rhett. I only want to put your new patch on. What if I promise to wash your hair while your knot goes down? You like me doing that sometimes when you come back exhausted from your long weeks away in the forest.”

I cock my head, eying him suspiciously.

I do love that.

When I am dirty, tired, and exhausted from weeks camping in the wilds, somehow I can tolerate being pampered by Angel.

No one has cared for me before, neither Mom before she abandoned me nor any of my foster parents.

Rhett’s not the soft type of Alpha. He expects everyone around him to be as self-sufficient as he is.

Around Angel, however, I can pretend I deserve to be looked after.

My mind is still fuzzy enough at the edges for me to nod.

I move my chin off Paige’s head and then bend forward over her shoulder.

Angel pushes my hair to the side, before he sticks the cold patch back on.

I hiss, as my pheromones recede like they are being held behind a dam.

The sensations around me become muted.

My shoulders loosen. My jaw unclenches.

My mind sharpens.

Angel catches my eye. “There you are, pretty. Want me to take the muzzle off?”

I roll my eyes. Why is he even asking that?

He gives a crooked smile. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a dumbass.”

He works at the buckles behind my head and then undoes the straps.

Gently, he pulls off the muzzle, before edging the padded guard out of my mouth.

If this was Rhett, I would bite him just to prove I don’t need to be feral to do that.

But this is Angel.

I kiss his fingers in thanks.

He traces his thumb over my cracked lips, before massaging at the imprints that are left on my skin.