Page 76 of One Way Out
Omen’s scent hits me a second before he climbs onto the edge of the bed behind me. His knees are cool against my back, which only amps up my fear as I realize exactly how much Saylor has heated up my front. Her ass was facing me when I fell asleep, but her front presses against mine now.
“All right, darling. We have an omega thermometer. I need you to open for me,” Omen says, brushing his fingers over her pink cheek.
Her eyes are beet red and glassy as they pop open. She trembles against my skin, groaning. “I think I’m dying. Oh my god, what is happening?”
“We’re just going to make sure you don’t need a doctor, and then we’re going to stuff you full of knots until that fever comes down.” Shaw runs his hand down her arm. “Open, princess.”
Shaw and Omen were obviously awake before I was, and that’s a good thing. They’re already on top of assessing the problem as Saylor lifts her tongue.
She whimpers around the thermometer, and I start to consider if I should run a cold bath. It seems like an eternity passes as I study her face, and the thermometer finally beeps.
Omen leans over me once more, plucking it from her lips. “Fuck, 111.3. That’s dangerously close to needing a hospital.”
“Jesus Christ,” Shaw murmurs. His wide blue eyes meet mine, and his fear is apparent.
My mind races through a million different scenarios.
Is the room too open?
Is the fact she doesn’t have a confined nest making things worse?
Is this all due to the suppressants?
Does she need a doctor?
Why isn’t she begging for dick?
Why the fuck don’t they give alphas more education on how to care for omegas? The extent of my knowledge was a couple of classes in secondary school, and no one paid attention.
This is something adults should be educated on, anyway. Teenagers never take anything too seriously. I sure as fuck didn’t, and I’m starting to really regret that.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Leo
Talking to Easton when he’s pissed is always a whirlwind. He does this thing where he rants for so long, he gets relatively calm again, then he sends himself into another angry tirade.
He needs close-ups of Valor and Omen for the passport and IDs he’s obtaining for us, and he’s mighty pissed we didn’t send them last night.
Only, I don’t remember him ever mentioning that part. Apparently, he’s got someone inside Germany who is a top-tier forger, but they’re about to leave the country—like, within a matter of days. The process of making the documents takes time, and if we don’t get him images that can pass for DMV and passport photos within the next half an hour, we’ll be stuck waiting for Calder to mail them from the States.
Last I heard, that was the plan we were going with, but there’s less than no point in arguing with my boss.
He’s never wrong.
Even if he forgot to mention that to us, he’ll go to his grave swearing it’s our mistake, and maybe it is. I’ve been distracted. Shaw has been too, but losing any more minutes to Easton’s screaming isn’t going to help me get pictures of the guys.
I grimace, blurting all that out. “Give me five minutes. Shaw or I will email them directly to Calder.” I reference the tech guy from Shadow Security in case he would like them sent elsewhere.
“Jesus Christ, you’re on my last goddamn nerve,” Easton mutters. “Get it done.”
I frown as he hangs up on me.
Usually Shaw gets the worst of his attitude, but I guess today is my lucky day.
* * *
Out of all the things I expect to find when walking into the makeshift nest, two hysterical alphas, one crying omega, and a frantic beta are not high on my list of possibilities.
