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350 pages, ebook
First published July 6, 2021
I don’t need a pack telling me I’m safe. I can make me safe. I can take care of everything by myself, without handing over my entire life’s happiness to a bunch of rutting assholes.
“Just don’t rock the boat.”
Me?
I’m the motherfucking captain of the S.S. Do Not Disturb. It’s a stealth ship, slipping silently over the waves, bothering no one, and hopefully someday soon, fading into the mist, never to be seen again.”
Lilah’s all the fun of vodka shots and drag racing without the hangover and jail time.
In a different life, I would’ve fallen for Orion harder than any of them.
I want to climb him like a kitten in a tree that not even a team of shirtless firemen could coax back to the ground.
"You never did anything wrong."
It’s just a phrase, but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear it. From Orion, it’s magic.
You never did anything wrong.
It soothes the years and years of being hated for existing. The beatings and scorn.
You never did anything wrong.
’Only a few things make me feel alive.
Bikes. Stunts. Saunas.
Killing. Clubbing. Fucking.
And Lilah motherfucking Darling.’
“Sorry. Got held up.” Hunter appears, plunking down a few glasses of champagne. “Every asshole here is asking about Lilah.”
“How many you think I’ll get to kill?” Finn asks fondly.
Hunter swats his shoulder. “Keep it in your pants.
”They’re your mates. They’ll love anything if you’re the one making it.”
Right. That I can imagine.
Hunter and Finn might humor me, Finn probably making some excuse to feed me. Atlas would rumble disapproval, Jett would try to burn me up with hate-powered eyebeams, and Orion would finally snap, just straight up pile-driving my face into the cake and suffocating me in frosting.
To them, my scent is nothing. To me, theirs is everything I can never have.
I’m an omega, not a fucking alpha. I’ve always torn myself up over my omega awakening. …for ruining the pack and stealing them from the girl of their dreams. Pretty sure that dream girl is Lilah, and that adds another layer of self-loathing because I’m not just stealing them from some abstract idea of an omega. I’m also keeping Lilah from her meant-to-be pack.
Her perfume slips down the back of my throat like molten caramel, smoking through every last piece of resistance. She’s mine. Ours. Mate. ♡♡♡