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He accelerates onto the road, and I slam my head against the window, watching the city fly by in a blur. The memories of Noah are relentless, haunting me without mercy and clawing at my mind like a nightmare that refuses to end. They feel suffocatingly close, as if they could consume me whole at any moment.
At the worst, or maybe best, possible time, Malachi’s voice drifts through my head, overlaying Noah’s cruel one. “Focus on your breath, Aria,” he once said, his eyes full of wisdom. “You are stronger than your fear.”
We arrive at the hotel, and Zane helps me out of the car. He keeps a protective arm around my waist as we stride through the entrance, scanning the surroundings with a fierce determination. With him by my side, I feel invincible against any potential danger lurking in the shadows.
He doesn’t say anything to me, and I’m thankful, because all I can hear in my head is the whoosh-whoosh of my heartbeat. I see his mouth moving as he speaks to the receptionist, who eyes me warily. I don’t blame her, because I also think I’m about to lose my shit.
The receptionist hands over a key card, and Zane guides me toward the elevators. As the doors close, I let out a shaky breath. Zane’s arm remains securely around my waist—a silent reassurance of his unwavering support.
As the panic threatens to swallow me, a memory of Quinn pops into my mind. “Breathe, Aria,” he joked, winking. “In and out, like a nerd inhaling the scent of a new book.”
I felt personally attacked by that statement.
I try to focus on my breathing, grateful that my scent suppressants are holding up, even through this stress. The last thing I need is for Zane to catch a whiff of distressed omega. He still thinks I’m a beta, and right now, that’s my only protection.
The elevator dings, signaling our arrival on the designated floor. We step out into the hallway, and Zane leads me to the room. He swipes the key card, and the door unlocks with a soft click. As we enter, the scent of fresh linen and a hint of artificial lavender greets us—a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within me. The room is bathed in soft, warm light from a bedside lamp, casting long shadows across the neutral-toned walls. A large window draped with heavy curtains promises a view of the city, but right now, it feels more like a barrier against the outside world. The king-sized bed dominates the space, its crisp white sheets a tempting promise of comfort and safety.
Zane gently helps me to the bed, and I sink into the soft mattress, my body trembling from the overwhelming emotions and the impending heat. My hand instinctively reaches for my phone, Cayenne’s number dancing at the forefront of my mind. She’d know exactly what to say, how to calm me down. But as I catch Zane’s concerned gaze, I hesitate. For once, I don’t feel alone, nor do I feel the need to lean entirely on Cayenne. Maybe, just maybe, I can lean on someone else, even if just for tonight.
He kneels down in front of me, his eyes filled with concern and compassion. “Aria, listen to me,” he says, his voice steady and soothing. “Anyone, and I mean anyone who tries to get through that door will have to go through me first.”
I nod, tears welling up again. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
Zane smiles, a small, gentle curve of his lips that sends a ripple of calm through me. “I’ve got you.” His eyes, a deep, mesmerizing blue, hold mine for a moment longer, conveying more than words ever could. “This is our job.”
I’m just a job to him, and yet my stupid omega brain wants more. I can’t have more, but that hussy wants it.
I’m a shattered omega, my past riddled with shadows that cling to me like a curse. No one desires damaged goods, which is precisely why the stench of raw onions clings to my skin—an acrid reminder of my torment, rather than the enticing aroma of my natural delicious scent.
He stands up and moves to the small kitchenette, filling a glass with water and bringing it to me. “Drink this. It will help.” His voice is firm but kind, and I obey, taking small sips as he watches over me.
As I drink, I notice the way Zane carries himself with quiet strength and the confidence that radiates from him. It’s in the way he moves and speaks. There’s an edge to him, a fierceness that lies just beneath the surface, but it’s tempered by an undeniable gentleness. It’s a combination that should be impossible, yet here it is, embodied in the man standing before me.
He purposely shows the world this tough exterior, but deep down inside, he’s as gentle as a fly.
Or maybe he’s like a bumble bee—cute and fluffy up close, right before he stings me and then promptly dies.
When I finish the water, Zane takes the glass and sets it aside. He sits beside me on the bed, his presence a solid anchor in the storm of my emotions. “You don’t have to explain anything, Aria. Just know that you’re safe with me. Always.”
I look into his eyes, finding comfort I hadn’t known I needed. “I believe you,” I say, and it’s the truth. But it’s complicated. Part of me wants to trust him completely, to let down all my guards and just feel safe. Another part screams that trusting anyone, especially an alpha, is dangerous. And then there’s the part that wishes he was here not out of duty, but because he genuinely cares about me. It’s a tangled mess of emotions that I can’t begin to unravel.
Zane leans back, resting against the headboard, and motions for me to join him. Hesitantly, I scoot closer, and he wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart all work to remind me that I am not alone.
As the minutes pass, the tension slowly seeps out of my muscles. My eyelids grow heavy, the exhaustion of the day catching up with me. Zane’s fingers trace soothing patterns on my arm, lulling me into a sense of security I haven’t felt in years.
“Rest, Aria,” he murmurs, his voice a soft, comforting rumble. “I’ll keep watch.”
With those words, I finally allow myself to relax and let go of the fear and anxiety, if only for a little while. He’s cozy, thinks I’m a beta, and is here for a job, not because he wants to take me to his home for a gang bang.
The tension eases from my shoulders, and I fall asleep.
20
ZANE
Aria’s breathing finally evens out, her body surrendering to exhaustion as sleep pulls her into its depths. I watch her for a few moments longer, ensuring she’s truly at peace before I dare to move. The memory of her panic and the raw fear in her eyes lingers in my mind, stoking a protective fire in my chest.
The scent of burnt onions and oranges clings to the air—a stark contrast to what I imagine her natural scent might be. It’s the unmistakable odor of distress and fear, one I’ve encountered before but never this potent. It’s a scent I’ll never forget, a visceral reminder of her vulnerability and the trauma she’s endured.
