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MISTAKE.
My cock twitches to attention, the room filling with my body’s answer to her hormones. Meg freezes. Her stance goes from confident to brittle. She blinks repeatedly, her chest rising and falling faster with every breath.
“Declan,” she chokes. “Your scent.”
I realize she’s never smelled me like this. In the car, she had Archer right under her and Theo at her back. Plus, I had clothes on. Now, it’s just me. And I’m only wearing sweats.
Hell, I can scent my own arousal. It wafts off my chest, trying to tell the omega to come to me.
I blink to clear my vision, but the edges blur. My throat feels thick. Tingles tickle my fingertips until they flinch.
No.
It can’t be.
I won’t let it be a rut.
But my blood heats to boiling, inflating my knot with hot pulses that seem to shoot straight from my cramping heart to my throbbing groin.
I’ve dreaded this feeling for as long as I can remember. This madness is what ruined my life before it even started. I would do anything not to feel it. Especially after what happened last time.
It can’t get any worse. I’m in the sound-proofed basement, alone with a perfuming omega. She has no suppressants in her system. I have no rut-blockers.
She smells fucking edible.
And she hates me almost as much as her body wants me.
Maybe more.
It can’t get any worse… until it does.
Her wide eyes lose focus, the black at their centers expanding. Her perfume spikes hard. So rich and full and thick, it’s almost painful to inhale the urgency of it.
She needs.
My entire being screams to provide whatever she requires. I know I’m losing control. I feel it slip, slip, slipping through my fingers.
Fingers.
I reach out and grab the nearest weight machine, gripping it with all of the fervor I want to direct at the omega luring me straight into hell.
“I’ll go get one of the others for you,” I grit, not breathing. “You need—”Can’t say it. Can’t even think about it. “You’re spiking. I’ll get Arch.”
I start to turn away, but my brain is soup.
Why am I leaving?
Where am I going?
Why am I holding my breath?
I breathe. My mind blinks off-line.
Behind me, I hear a whine shrill enough to break glass. It has claws. They dig into the spaces between my ribs, ripping hooks that make me turn around.
Omega.
I charge.
