Carson chuckled. We’d known each other long enough now that his teasing couldn’t get under my skin. He already had one of my pieces on his back—the wrist was just a bonus since I was tattooing for ‘free’ as a part of my fee to be here.

A ridiculously large fee.

“Have you read what the press says about her?”

I snorted. “You know I haven’t.” Through Carson and some other famous clients I had, I’d seen enough to know what the gossip mags reported was rarely true, and mostly hurtful.

“They say she’s an ice queen. Has turned down a hundred packs who’ve offered to bond, and not been kind while doing it. A complete bitch.”

A growl ripped out of me, causing the heads nearest us to turn, and I sat back, stunned. I must still be caught up in her scent. Pure, gorgeous Omega.

Carson held up the hand I wasn’t inking. “I didn’t say I thought those things. I’ve never met her in person, cupcake incident aside, but I know Eva. And Eva is amazing. I can’t imagine her sister being completely different. Not when they spend so much time together.”

Intentionally, I dipped the irons in ink and went back to doing the final touches on his tattoo. I’d been around plenty of Omegas before, and none of them had ever made me react this way. There was always the protective instinct, of course, that natural leaning in which made Alphas and Omegas pull toward each other.

But none of their scents had slammed into me like a battering ram. Was this what it was like for Addison when she met Claire? I needed to ask her. Because if it was…

I wasn’t sure I could follow that line of thought. It was too complicated. There was so much more than one scent to consider. There was the whole rest of my pack, if Esme was even looking for one. If what Carson said was even a tenth true about her turning down packs?

Shaking my head, I dismissed the thought. Not once had I put stock in what the gossip machine had to say. I wasn’t going to start now when it might actually matter.

Finishing the final shading, I wiped away the last bit of ink from Carson’s wrist. “There you go.”

He grinned. “Stellar. As usual.”

“I think you’re the only one who’s actually going to get one.” I bandaged it for him. We’d done enough sessions I knew I didn’t have to lecture him about proper care.

“Oh, one-hundred percent. I’d say you’re fully clear to go after Miss Cupcake if you want.”

I looked at him. “Who says I want to?”