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“We need to talk to detective Rhodes again. He’s been on this case from the very beginning. We can trust him.”
More clicks on the keyboard. “We have that meeting with him tomorrow. Make sure you’re there.”
“Of course.”
“And, y’know, feel better or whatever.” Norah tsk-tsked. I could almost feel her disapproving glare from across the city.
Guilt panged through my chest. I couldn’t tell her Trystan was the thief. My nature wouldn’t allow me to put him at risk in any way. But there were other ways of letting her in.
“I’ve met my scent-match,” I admitted, smiling to myself at the sound of Norah’s gasp through the phone. “He went into heat after the break-in, and I had to take care of him.”
“Emerson, that’s…” Norah paused, then laughed. “Oh, wow. You really had a hell of a night, didn’t you? I want the whole scent-match story, but I’m assuming you should get back to him.”
Well, funny story, actually. He cuffed me to my bed and ran out while I was asleep, and I have no idea where he is. It’s all going really well.
“Thank you. Sorry for being secretive.”
I meant it, too. Norah didn’t deserve these secrets, but I had to protect my omega. I told him he was my priority now, and I didn’t take that lightly.
“I’d probably do the same in your position. I get territorial any time someone so much as looks at Frankie. If he were an omega on top of that, inheat.” She let out a low whistle. “Dangerous. Hope I get to meet him soon, though.”
“You will. He’ll be in my life as long as I’m breathing.”
Trystan may not fully understand it yet—if he did, he wouldn’t have run off—but now that I knew he existed, he’d never be rid of me. I’d call in every favour, do everything in my power to protect him, whether he liked it or not.
All I had to do first was find him.
Chapter Seven
Trystan
Experiencingaheatwithoutan alpha was agony. Hours, sometimes days, of a burning need that was never quite sated. But when I’d woken up with a semi-clear mind for the first time in hours, I forced myself to get out of Emerson’s penthouse before another spike hit me. Riding it out in my shitty flat wasn’t ideal, but I had a system: give my flatmate my phone and get them to lock me in the bathroom, throw in some energy drinks and snacks, run a cold bath with the most overpowering bath salts hands could steal, and spend some quality time with a knotted dildo.
Classy? Not even a little. But fucking effective.
Now that the worst was over, my body had cooled to a regular temperature, and I could finally appreciate a warm shower. I scrubbed my skin until it was as red as my arse and the water ran cold.
Eventually, I called it quits and dried myself, pulling on a comfy old pair of sweatpants that wouldn’t irritate my still-sensitive skin. The shower helped me feel more like myself again, but I could still smell leather and patchouli on my skin. The scent of an alpha. Emerson.
I scrubbed a hand down my face with a groan. He’d been living rent free in my mind ever since I got out of the penthouse. At least I’d had some fantasies to dip into for the rest of my heat. Getting knotted by a dildo was enough to quiet my inner omega for a few minutes. A real alpha’s knot turned out to be so much better than I imagined. I almost wanted to kick myself for avoiding it for so long. Emerson was responsible for the best orgasms of my life, and part of me wished I never left.
If he’d had his way, I’d probably still be there. And if I were an honest man, I’d be willing to admit part of me wasn’t mad at that idea.
Too bad I steal for a living.
That was something I hadn’t considered. Emerson was more than happy to help his omega and make all the sweet promises of priorities and care, but it was literally his job to put me in jail.
Grinding my teeth, I ran a hand through my hair, pulling at the ends. If my life insisted on being a fucking joke, it should at least be funny.
Gulping down the last of a lukewarm energy drink, I went looking for my flatmate, Bee. We’d been friends since our early teens, though Bee had been smart enough to stay away from Roman’s shady deals. Instead of engaging in theft the old-fashioned way, like me, they liked to make rent by hacking information, then selling it to the highest bidder. The only reason I didn’t wholly approve of their method was because I wasn’t patient enough to sit and do that myself. I preferred the adrenaline of the hands-on approach, though I appreciated Bee’s assistance from time to time.
I called out, “Hey, Bee! What time is it? How long have I been out?”
Bee looked up from their laptop, their scraggly copper hair sticking up in every direction and the screen’s light reflected in their glasses. “Almost midnight, so only about eighteen hours. Surprised to see you up so soon.”
“Good to see you, too,” I muttered dryly, though I wasn’t lying. Bee could see through that shit too easily. “Any news?”
“Like in the world or specifically from Roman? Because, yes.” They rolled their chair away from the desk, leaning back in a stretch that had their back cracking like a glowstick. “You had a text a few hours ago. Said to hurry it up or… Well, I’m not comfortable repeating the threat. Go ahead and use your imagination, then make it a lot worse.”
