But many would also stick around.
Like Fenrir, much of the product had been entangled with the Wardrobe for years, if not decades. It would be the only sort of life they knew. Change took courage, and most of them would have had that beaten out of them already.
“I’ve seen the books. I know what Michelle makes. The White Frost won’t lose out here.” Fenrir leaned back. “If you need a longer pitch, I’m prepared—”
“This is good,” Baal said. “Ifyou can take control of the company.”
“As I mentioned, the rest of the board isn’t a problem. Michelle is the tricky part.”
Koah glanced between them. “You going to let him speak for your money, Purse?”
Oberon ran his fingers through the fine hairs at the base of Fenrir’s skull, loving how silky and expensive they felt. “Uh huh.”
“I’ll agree to this,” Baal announced. “Which means we just need a plan for finding Rebirth. If we wait until you’ve bought everyone else out, the Mistress of the Wardrobe will be tipped off. Then neither of us get what we want.”
“I could find a way back into the building,” Fenrir suggested, not noticing when Oberon’s hand stilled. “King’s multi-slate is bugged. Claudio is retrieving it after he drops off the doctor. We can use that to our advantage. Stage a fight between us, give her a reason to take me back. Then I—”
The anger came suddenly. A potent, all-consuming rage Oberon had never experienced before, and might have questioned if he’d been even partially in his right mind.
Oberon had Fenrir sprawled out on the couch in a flash, one hand on his throat, the other slipping between them, forcing its way down the front of the omega’s pants.
“Good Light!” Koah cursed and spun on his heels to look away.
Baal sighed and dropped his head into his hand, shielding his gaze as well.
“What the hell?!” Fenrir let out a strangled sound when O grabbed onto his dick and gave it a squeeze.
“This is mine,” O snarled, losing control of himself to the point he was partially unaware of what he was doing or saying. “Youare mine. You aren’t going back there. You’re never going back there. If this has all been some mind fuck with the goal to return to your mistress—”
Fenrir tugged him down, slamming their mouths together. At the same time, he let out a wave of targeted omega pheromones, soothing and reassuring Oberon, all while his tongue darted between his lips dominatingly and flicked across the roof of his mouth. The omega kissed him like he was the one in charge, like all of Oberon’s insecurities could be quelled if he simply gave in and allowed him to lead for them.
Perhaps he was right in this as well.
In the past, Oberon hadn’t bothered himself with trifles or doubts. He had no basis of comparison for the way he was feeling now, nothing to compare this twist of possessiveness in his gut to.
This fear of losing something more important to him than air.
If it could be bought, it hadn’t mattered what he’d lost or misplaced. But Fenrir was different. There was only one of him in the whole of the universe.
Oberon couldn’t lose him.
“Energy,” Fenrir broke away and said breathlessly.
He frowned down at him, mind reeling. “What?”
The omega pressed a palm over O’s rapidly beating heart. “These past few days together, your body has helped regulate mine. Even though you don’t produce a large sum of energy like I do, as my alpha, you can channel it through you. A few odd explosive episodes in the coming weeks are to be expected. Breathe, King. I’m not going anywhere. I never was.”
“But you said—”
“Anyone with ears could tell he was suggesting a ruse,” Baal stated, giving another disgusted sigh. “Can we please get on with it? You aren’t the only one with an omega to satisfy, Purse.”
Oberon stared at Fenrir for a moment longer, then he pushed off him and helped his omega up.
“I have a better plan.” One that wouldn’t require sending the most vital part of O’s being into the lion’s den.
At least, not on his own.
Chapter 25: