“I was her backup on her very first mission,” Forrest said. “STAT was just starting to put supernaturals on the teams back then and was having problems finding people willing to work with them. I didn’t see what the big deal was, so I volunteered. I ended up saving her butt that first trip out, so STAT started putting us together more often. We hit it off right from the beginning but kept it professional for months. We talked for a long time before deciding to sleep together. You know, that adult-conversation thing I mentioned? Even then, we were limited to those occasions when we were on a mission together and were able to slip away and be alone. It wasn’t easy.”
“How did you two end up together on this team?”
“We talked about what we were both looking for, what kind of future we wanted, and what we were willing to risk to have that future.” He pinned Caleb with a look. “You know, that serious conversation stuff I keep mentioning? Anyway, long story short, Misty hacked STAT’s human resources computers and got us put on this new team together. The rest is history.”
“Wow,” Caleb muttered, a little stunned they’d done something like that. “Weren’t you worried that it wouldn’t work out between you and you’d end up stuck being teammates?”
Forrest didn’t even have to think about it before he shook his head. “Not at all. Because we talked about it and realized that being together was what we both wanted. We were both willing to risk anything—including our jobs—to do it.”
Caleb wasn’t sure he could ever be that bold and put himself out there like that.
“Okay, now that we’ve wasted enough time talking about Misty and me, why don’t you tell me why you’re having doubts about you and Brielle?” Forrest murmured as he pretended to sip his champagne. “And don’t try that crap about her being too good for you. I know there’s something else going on.”
Caleb glanced over at Brielle, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before turning back to Forrest. “I’m an omega,” he said, the words so soft he wasn’t sure if his teammate would even be able to hear them. “That means I don’t get to have what you and Misty have. Or what Jake and Jes or Harley and Sawyer have. Being an omega means being alone. Forever.”
Caleb knew that sounded rather dramatic, but Forrest seemed to take it in stride. “Even if Brielle is The One for you?”
He wasn’t surprised his teammate had jumped straight to that conclusion. After seeing it happen firsthand with Jake and Jes, then Harley and Sawyer, Forrest probably knew as much about the legend of The One—that one person each werewolf was supposed to spend their lives with—than anyone on the planet.
“She’s not The One for me,” Caleb said firmly.
Forrest lifted a brow. “You sure of that?”
His teammate wasn’t going to let this go, was he?
Caleb bit back a growl. “Look, omegas don’t get soul mates, okay?”
Finally putting into words the one thing that terrified him more than anything else in the world was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but there it was. The thought of getting shot, stabbed, or even blown up had never worried him. Hell, he wasn’t even scared of dying. But the thought of being alone forever ate away at him from the very darkest corners of his mind like it was a living thing.
“Says who?” Forrest asked quietly, the look on his face suggesting he thought Caleb was full of it.
“Says every omega I’ve ever met,” Caleb ground out. “Trust me, it’s all omegas talk about when they stumble across each other. It’s the one thing we all have in common. Besides a complete lack of control, I mean. We don’t get to have soul mates.”
Forrest sighed. “This may be completely off base, but I’m going to say it anyway, because I think you need to hear it. I think all this crap you keep spouting about omegas not getting to have soul mates is merely cover for the fact that you’re scared that this thing with Brielle could be real and that you’re going to mess it up like you have with so many other things in your life. So you figure, if it’s all going to blow up at some point, just do it now and get it over with. Less pain for you that way, right?”
Caleb wished he could deny it, but truthfully, Forrest had hit the nail on the head. He’d known Brielle was The One for him since the first time he’ smelled her honeysuckle perfume. No, not her perfume. Her honeysuckle scent. But he’d spent every second since then trying to ignore the obvious, listing one reason after another for why it couldn’t be true because he couldn’t imagine the world letting him have something so perfect. Not when his life had been nothing but one big disappointment piled on top of an effing train wreck.
“Assuming you’re right,” Caleb muttered, scanning the room so he would have an excuse for not looking at his teammate, “what the hell am I supposed to do, then?”
“I’ve already told you what to do,” Forrest said with a shake of his head. “Sit down and talk to her. Honestly tell her how you feel and find out if she feels the same.”
Caleb blew out a breath. “You make it sound so easy. But I’m not sure I’d even know where to start. I’ll probably open my mouth, nothing will come out, and I’ll look like an idiot.”
He was hoping Forrest might give him a few suggestions—maybe even tell him the exact words he should use—but before his friend could say anything, a burst of static over the radio interrupted them.
“Harrington’s driver just started the limo, and two members of his security team are heading into the atrium,” Harley said. “I’m going to move closer so I can pick up Harrington’s scent when he comes out and figure out what kind of supernatural he is.”
“I’m moving closer, too,” Brielle added, slipping away from her French contingent before Caleb had a chance to tell her to stay where she was. “Sometimes I can get a better feel for a supernatural’s abilities when I’m closer to them.”
Caleb growled under his breath and started moving to intercept Brielle, Forrest at his heels. They had no idea how dangerous Harrington might be, and Caleb sure as hell wasn’t going to let her be the test dummy to find out.
Even though he and Forrest were still half an atrium away, Caleb could hear the billionaire announcing to his avid audience that he had to leave to deal with another crisis. With that, Harrington turned and headed toward one of the side corridors—and Brielle.
Caleb’s heart thumped faster.
“Fall back,” Caleb growled softly into the mic hidden in the cuff of his suit jacket. “Do not follow Harrington out of the main lobby, Brielle. I repeat. Do. Not Follow. He could be setting us up for an ambush.”
Caleb felt his fangs trying to shove their way out as he realized that Brielle wasn’t listening to him. Instead, she moved closer to Harrington and the two bodyguards waiting to escort him to the garage with every step she took.