The Omegas

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Authors: Annie Nicholas
planted a gentle kiss on Katrina’s forehead. “Take care.”
    Eric followed her out of his apartment. “I’ll stay with you.”
    She shook her head. “I need to be alone. Just give me some time to absorb what happened.” She glanced at her feet, unable to meet his piercing gaze.
    “You heard the guy. Daedalus will pull through.”
    She sighed. “I know. I don’t doubt it, not after watching him fight in daylight with a stake in his heart.” He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man, except actually being a man. “I don’t know if I’ll pull through.” A sob applied pressure to her chest but she held it. “You need to give me space. Everyone. For a little while.”
    “Sugar,” he whispered. “Please don’t shut me out of your life. You’re my best friend.”
    She walked down the hall with him and entered her apartment. “Give me time.” Then she closed the door. The bolt stuck as she struggled to twist the knob, but it finally locked. This was the first time since the Omegas moved in next door she’d needed it.

Chapter 12
    Daedalus sat in his study and contemplated the roaring fire in the hearth. No matter how much he fueled the flames, his heart remained cold. Centuries old but still stupid enough to fall for a pretty girl. He held the poem he’d written to her and threw it in the fire. She’d returned the others unopened as well.
    He needed to reminisce on happier times, it sometimes eased the loneliness. His thoughts always betrayed him, eventually leading to her. The only good times he wished to remember involved Sugar, and they were a painful reminder she wanted nothing to do with him.
    It drove him mad. He knew she cared. He saw her tears when they tried to stake him. Yet, she refused his calls and his letters. She refused him.
    How many times over the last two months had he caught himself making plans to steal her away from her new home? He shook his head and rested it on the back of his favorite worn leather chair. Too many. It would be a mistake. Holding her prisoner would make her hate him more, not to mention kidnapping was illegal.
    His chest ached, but not from the wound.
    The CB mike on his cellphone beeped. He glanced down at it, annoyed. He’d told them not to disturb him. It beeped again. He sighed and unattached it. “What?”
    “Did you order a pretty blonde for dinner, sir?”
    What? He unfolded himself from the chair and went to the computer to access the camera outputs. A woman with blond curls got out of a cab, then came to stand by the guardhouse at the gate. His heart beat. One sharp, painful squeeze.
    It was her.
    “Bring her to my study.” Now she accepts his invitation? Two months later?
    He tried to hook the phone back to his belt but missed, and it clattered to the floor. “Fuck.” It skittered under the desk as he tried to grab it. He straightened and brushed any wrinkles in his pants. Get it together, man. Whether she stayed or went, at least it would be resolved.
    He strolled to the mantle where he would greet her. The dark granite under his hands offered a sense of solidness, a reflection of what he’d like to appear when she walked in, cool and strong.
    An ember popped to land on his shoe. He scuffed it out and leaned against the stone, his eyes focused on the door. A faint mumble of greetings floated from the foyer.
    This was nonsense.
    He strode to the study’s exit so he could greet her in the foyer, then stopped. That would seem too eager.
    He paced the room, running his hand over his smooth head, and wondered how to receive her. It would land him in jail or worse if he did what he wanted to do—tear her clothes off, confine her to his bedroom, and never let her go.
    When had he become so insecure? Not even a minute in his home and she reduced him, Daedalus Pal Robi, a prime of the Nosferatu clan, to a teenager. A small growl rumbled deep inside a well of frustration that had gathered over the last weeks.
    The knob turned.
    He faced the door and

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