Oberon frowned. “Does Michelle know?”
“Yes.”
“And...she doesn’t mind?”
“She finds it funny.”
“Because?”
“Trick is fine with other alphas, but not men.”
“So she enjoys making him uncomfortable?”
Fenrir shrugged. “I think they’re all into it, to be honest. Trick doesn’t exactly tell him to stop whenever he openly flirts with him. Or he likes that Michelle likes it. Who really knows.”
“I hope you don’t expect me to allow others to hit on you, even if you enjoy it.” Because Oberon wouldn’t. No chance in hell. He was a bit surprised by how quickly the possessiveness had hit him. Typically, he wasn’t the type to grow attached to material things. People counted.
“Of course not,” Fenrir stated. “I’m not okay with anyone hitting on you either.”
He was just about to smile when the omega continued.
“You successfully altered my programming when you flooded me with your pheromones during the mating. The claiming bite took. I’m yours now, and you’re mine. That’s how it works,” Fenrir sounded so matter of fact.
It pissed O off.
“You aren’t a damn machine,” he snapped, only for the omega to lift a brow.
“I run on energy like one.”
“You aren’t a tool or a weapon, Fenrir.”
He leaned back. “Why are you getting so upset, King?”
Oberon had known, on some level, that biting a man he hardly knew would lead to this, but it was still infuriating. He didn’t want Fenrir to submit because he had to, or because biology told him to. He wanted the omega towanthim.
To want him back.
“Forget it.” There was no point it talking about this now. Baby steps. That’s how this had to go. “Let’s get back to the game.”
“There’s more to it?”
“You didn’t say who you would kill—”
“I would murder Trick,” Fenrir cut him off. “I’d torture Michelle. And then I’d frame Jose for it and watch him rot in prison for the rest of his life.”
Something about that made it seem like Jose was a lot more than a mere driver.
“That’s a lot of animosity,” Oberon tentatively prodded. “The first two, I get, but—”
“Jose is the one Michelle has watch me when she and Trick are both busy,” Fenrir said.
“Has he hurt you?”
“No…” He cleared his throat, suddenly sheepish, and mumbled, “He just doesn’t shut up about how great Trick is and it’s fucking annoying.”
Oberon laughed.
“Your turn.” The omega looked at him expectantly.