Chapter 25 CHAPTER 025
Soren kissed him.
The words are like a beeping alarm while the scene keeps replaying in his head like a cursed clip that refuses to pause. No matter how hard Soren thinks about it, he still can’t figure out what the heck he was thinking to have kissed Reign on the cheek, and the painful part is that Soren can’t even avoid him.
Soren steals a glance at Reign, who sits at the edge of the long board table in the conference room, surrounded by board members. Slowly, Soren’s gaze drops briefly to Reign’s lips.
Soren’s stomach flips violently, and immediately, he looks away. What the fuck?
Why is he looking at his lips like that? What the hell is Soren thinking? He runs a hand through his red hair, having the sudden strong urge to pull the strands from his skull. He hates how wild his mind is wandering. He cringe internally
Amidst the chaos in his head, Soren lifts his head, and he meets the smirking face of Sylvester, who sits across from him at the table, and a knowing look in his eyes. Yeah, the alpha is everywhere.
He smiles at Soren, causing his stomach to flip more and he looks away. He doesn’t need another person to make it painfully obvious that Soren is suddenly lusting after the beautifully sculpted Enigma sitting ten feet away. Especially when the alpha across from him has no idea that their relationship is only on paper and for the public's eyes.
Soren exhales a sigh. How long is one year? Because suddenly, it feels so long.
Suddenly, his train of thought is cut off when the door of the conference hall bursts open, and Soren is overwhelmed by the strong smell of familiar omega pheromones and just like that, the omega heir of the McLaren family strolls in like he owns the place, with perfectly styled hair, tailored suit, and an entitled expression Soren remembers all too well.
Soren frowns. What does he want now?
This time, the bratty omega doesn’t storm over to Reign; he makes his way towards Soren, throwing a bunch of papers on the table in front of him. The action reminds Soren of Reign’s mother.
Soren wonders what this omega wants from him as he raises a questioning brow.
The omega smirks, placing his palms on the table and leaning his body forward, eyes glinting as if he knows something that Soren doesn’t. His eyes roam over Soren openly before locking onto his.
“Mr. Montgomery rejected my offer because of you,” he begins. “So I decided to do some digging. I wanted to see what’s so special about you and you—” He trails off deliberately, staring Soren dead in the eyes while Soren’s jaw clenches, already not liking the direction of the conversation but this time, he decides not to be paranoid or jump to conclusions. He lets the omega continue.
!
“I found out you’re nothing special,” the omega continues, voice dripping with disdain. “Just some underground box that showed up from nowhere.”
Soren snorts and rolls his eyes. “It’s not much of a secret,” he replies lazily.
“You have no family name worth mentioning. So what exactly are you offering him?” The omega slams his palms on the table as if it had offended him, while Soren's eyes turn into a glare, but before Soren can respond—
“Mr. McLaren.” Reign’s voice booms from behind them, a warning edge behind it.
The omega turns sharply to him, crossing his arms over his chest dramatically. “I wanted to see why you chose him, and I am very disappointed. I can offer you so much more.”
A smirk suddenly stretches on Reign’s face. He rises to his feet, and then he walks around the table. He approaches the omega, stopping in front of him, and then, without a word, he hooks a finger under his chin. Soren stiffens at the sight, an ugly feeling curling in his stomach, yet he doesn’t look away.
Reign tilts the omega’s face up slightly, studying him the way one might examine an object up for auction. The omega freezes, but he doesn’t pull away as his pulse visibly jumps in his throat.
“You can offer me more?” Reign repeats calmly.
“Yes,” the omega says, lifting his chin further, trying to reclaim some sort of dominance and posture.
Reign roams his eyes over his face, and then he leans his face down. Almost everyone in the room holds their breath at the little gap between their faces, especially Soren.
“Perhaps…” he starts, breath brushing against the omega’s face, voice low in whispers yet everyone can hear his voice. “…I would have considered your offer if I didn't despite omegas like you,”
The words land like a slap as the omega’s expression cracks. “What?” he breathes, disbelief flashing across his face.
Reign lets go of his chin and straightens slowly, creating distance again while his eye drills a hole through his face. “If you have any dignity left, you will see yourself out.”
The omega swallows, hands balling into fists at his side.
“Or,” Reign adds, voice dropping just slightly, “I’ll have the guards throw you out. Your choice, Mr. McLaren.”
The McLaren Omega stares at him with wide eyes. “You can’t throw me out,”
Reign’s lips curve faintly, and he’s anything but amused. “Very well.”
Almost instantly, the conference room doors swing open, and alphas in black suits burst into the room.
“Escort Mr. McLaren out of the building and make sure he never steps foot in here,” Reign instructs without even looking at them, and it happens fast as two guards move instantly, grabbing the omega by the arms before he can even process what was said.
The omega’s scent spikes, sharp, furious. “You’ll regret this!” he snaps, struggling against the hands that hold him. “You’re making a mistake!” he yells, yet overpowered as he gets dragged out of the conference hall.
Soren blinks, unsure what he just witnessed, but one thing is for sure: Reign is hot.
The enigma turns to the board members. “Dismissed,” he says calmly.
Without a single word of protest, one by one, they pick their stuff and wal off the hall, eve. Sylvester leaves quitet, leaving Soren alone with the Enigma.
Reign suddenly turns to Soren, and his breath hitches. The enigma tilts his head. “Does that answer your question, darling?”
Soren gulps at the name yet raises a questioning brow. “What question?”
The moment the words leave his mouth, Soren recalls his little drunken words.
Don’t walk away from me. You haven't answered me yet. Do you like those omegas? Do you wish I were an Omega instead?’
Every single word he said that night echoes in his head like a mocking sound, and instantly, red rushes to his head and a blush stains his cheek.
“I guess,” he murmurs, averting his eyes from Reign’s piercing eyes because all Soren can suddenly think of is the feel of his lips pressed against the jaw.
He wants to do it again and even do more than that.