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“Stay away from me.” I whirl about, fishing inside my bag for my pepper spray, the sight that greets my eyes taking a long moment to sink in.
The alpha is tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in a gray suit, with dark hair and bright sky-blue eyes. Like Superman in the movies, I think, my breath knocked out of me, when he’s pretending to be human… Or was it the big bad wolf, following little Red Riding Hood through the woods, pretending to be good? There’s something so primal about this alpha, and his scent, hitting me a moment later when I draw in a breath, is partly to blame: musk and pine with a subtle hint of anise.
“Excuse me,” he says again. So well-mannered for a sexy alien, or a wolf in disguise.
“Yes?”
“You don’t need to be afraid. It’s okay.”
Is it? Why is he saying that and giving me that concerned look?
“You only have to walk inside,” he goes on, with that damned bass voice. “You don’t even have to give your real name. Just go in and ask for help.”
It hits me a second later.
He thinks I’m an omega.
That I’m, in fact, an omega in dire need of a shelter, and that’s why I’m staring at the façade of the Omega Sunshine Shelter. I wonder what I look like, what my expression must have been. Sadness? Despair? Confusion?
A nervous laugh escapes me. “Oh, no,” I say.
“I beg your pardon?” God his voice is so sexy it makes me shiver.
“No, I’m not an omega.”
“Oh. I thought…”
“Yeah, many make that mistake,” I mutter. “Don’t worry about it.”
I am aware I look like a female omega, tiny, with large eyes and plump cheeks.
He’s gazing at me with a small crease between his dark brows. “You don’t have to be an omega to ask for help at the shelter.”
“I’m good.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He rolls his massive shoulders in a shrug. Then he extends his hand to me. “My name is Archer. I help out at the center.”
“Brinlee,” I whisper, clasping his hand. It engulfs mine, and it shouldn’t feel so nice, but God help me, it does. His grip is firm but careful. I bet he could crush my fingers easily.
“A pleasure,” he murmurs, and his blue eyes dip to my mouth. Or my boobs?
It makes my skin feel hot, and it starts a throb between my legs.
Danger. Sexy alphas are a danger to everyone with a pulse. I know that, and yet I can’t make myself move away, my hand still held in his. I know it, and yet it has never happened to me before quite like this, the attraction so strong it takes my breath away.
I want him to kiss me. Touch me.
Oh God, what’s wrong with me? He smells so good, and he’s gorgeous, and the way his eyes darken tells me he’s interested in me.
Very interested.
That finally registers, and I step back, pulling my hand away. “I have to go. Thank you…”
“Archer,” he repeats, as if he thinks I’ve forgotten his name already.
