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“What? Why?”

“All I want to do is make a home for you.”

I shrugged. “You have one. That’s enough.”

“No,” he replied gently. “We will find a place and make it ours.”

“But maybe until then, you could let me stay here with you in your little corner of the world. Would that be all right?”

“That would be great.” He leaned in and kissed me.

And even though we had to figure out if River Wilkes was actually the man who had helped traffic omegas, and figure out whoever else was in the mix, I knew all of it would eventually be concluded. We would find the answer, and meanwhile, my life with this man was finally starting. I couldn’t have been any happier.

7

SASHA

Iwas the problem.

Everything I was sure I knew, was wrong. Deacon Houghton-Crowne didn’t dislike omegas, he saved them. He’d been doing it for years. He was absolutely nothing like all the other alphas, other than them all being rich. He remained in their orbit to make sure that if they did something wrong, he was there to stop it. And yes, he had missed that Royce Kimball was not simply a bad guy but one of the worst of all, but I’d missed everything else.

What killed me was that I knew, without question, that he was my true mate. But still I thought he would or could reject me. My parents were true mates, and I’d heard the story a million times, and yet I’d been certain that Deacon had decided not to claim me because he found omegas so unworthy.

It was ludicrous.

My ego had been hurt, my pride. I’d heard his words of derision and decided that was the truth, and I’d held them close, lodged in my heart. I’d been absolutely eaten up with pain, and in all that time, a little more than a year, not once had I thought, that’s not the way true mates work.

Finding me, knowing who I was, but not being with me… he would have pined, just as I had. There would have been yearning for his other half, for the person who simply knew him at a cellular level, deep in his soul, who recognized all the shadows there and had no fear.

I had been preoccupied with work, with my parents moving, with the creation of my sanctuary, my personal space, and with making new friends. At twenty-four there was a whole life to live, new experiences to have, maybe even love. When Wyn had been flirting, we seemed to be falling into a pattern that I could see, if not a future in, then some absolutely amazing new experiences. And I really wanted to get laid. As an omega, I was wired for submission, and power needed to be exerted. I had to recognize that strength immediately, scent turning to taste in my mouth, moving to the back of my throat. I needed to make my body an offering that another could feast on.

I’d met many men, many alphas, but the idea of baring my throat had never crossed my mind. But when I’d opened the door and Deacon was there, immediately I thought, I’m yours.

He was larger than life standing there, staring at me, breathing hard, his thick, messy brown hair falling into those amber eyes of his, which were nearly glowing as he looked at me with so much possessiveness that I nearly lost my balance.

It was obvious in that moment, with him staring at me like I belonged to him, that everything I’d thought was a lie. Later, as we talked, and he explained everything, the why of it all, my part in my own anger and hurt had become obvious. Yes, he had made a decision for me, but it had been done out of care. Losing me was not an option for him because I was his mate, and if I had used my brain, just once, I would have known that. I hadn’t utilized even one of my lupine instincts, and that was on me.

I was the problem.

Afterward, when the excitement of being close had nearly overwhelmed me, he was the one who’d been gentle and talked to me. The real man, the kind of person he truly was, was a revelation. And again, it all made sense. Every set of true mates I knew complemented one another—why would Deacon and I be any different? He was perfect for me. He had to be. That was how the lupine piece worked.

Finding out that his apartment wasn’t a home at all, instead merely a place he went to eat and sleep, was heartbreaking. It took everything I had not to demand that he bring everything to my little house immediately. When he asked if he could do exactly that, I wanted to scream with joy but kissed him gently instead.

After I’d showered and changed into pajamas, I found him stretched out on the couch, head on a pillow, listening to the rain outside while he watched the fire. Or he had been watching. His eyes were closed, and he was dozing.

When Royce was in my house, and even Wyn after I knew he wasn’t a friend, I had despaired of it ever feeling like mine again. It wasn’t safe anymore; it felt like something important had been stripped away, torn from the very walls. But then Deacon had been so gentle with me and released his pheromones, and everything had righted. This was where my mate was, so of course, it was mine and all was well.

“Are you going to stand there and stare at me all night, or may I have the tour?” he teased me, a smile curling his lips.

“It’s not a big place. It won’t be much of a tour.” I stared down into those burnished-gold eyes of his, now open. I would need to settle on a color when I talked about him to others—amber, honey, or the aforementioned gold—but they were a startling color, utterly mesmerizing, and I was a bit smitten, so I wasn’t certain I’d be able to narrow it down.

“Tour, please,” he said, getting up, slipping around the couch and stepping in close so I had to tip my head back to see his face. He stood around six-two, and since I was right at five-eight, there was no way around it. When he took hold of my chin, I couldn’t help but smile.

“You smell good,” I told him.

“That’s because I took a shower before I came over here.”

“No, it’s different.”