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I’ve tried to reason with her so many times; explaining that the pack alpha wants nothing to do with us and, therefore, I can’t exactly move into their pack house.
An hour passes, and she’s still no closer to accepting my rationale. I’m huddled into the corner of my closet-nest, trying to figure out some way to get calm enough to sleep, when another round of thumps rounds at my door.
Oh, sugar.
Someone told on me?!
If this is our landlord, coming to beat my door down at this hour, I’m almost certain he’s going to kick me out. My apartment complex has an omegas-only policy after eight p.m. I had to tell Damon and Cassian they couldn’t stay. If someone caught me letting them in or kicking them out, I’m toast.
Scurrying to the front door, I take a deep breath before throwing it open, already formulating an apology. And a plea for mercy.
But every word dies on my tongue.
Because Smith Pierson is on my doorstep.
There’s no time to parse how I feel. I have to hide him before someone sees him.
Reminding myself not to let him intimidate me in my own home, I clasp my robe closed over my nightgown and fling the door open, hissing, “How do you guys keep getting in here? It’s omegas-only after eight! I told the guys they couldn’t stay!”
Smith steps over my threshold, radiating tension while he snaps the door shut behind him.
The overwhelmingly perfect scent of fresh-brewed coffee instantly fills the tiny apartment. My breasts peak under my nightgown and goosebumps break over my skin. I feel slick slip down my thighs, unhindered by any sort of panties.
Smith’s face is murderous. His blond brows dip low over angry eyes, and his chest heaves. His nostrils flare, scenting the fear and arousal I can’t control.
His body reacts in kind, the thick aroma of coffee pressing around me. He shifts from one foot to the other, and I notice a wide bulge running down the inseam of his trousers.
I drop my eyes to the floor, not wanting to let myself picture what’s under his pants. My fingers tighten around the thin fabric hiding my half-naked state as I whisper, “What are you doing here?”
For a silent second, he sweeps his gaze around my tiny apartment. When he finishes his assessment, he straightens to his full six-foot-something and scowls at me. “You can’t live here.”
The force of his will pummels me. And I hate it.
Normally, I love being an omega. Even when it’s hard, my instincts are the very deepest part of me. Now, though, the way he makes me feel is almost enough for me to question why I can’t be stronger.
It takes a beat for me to realize this is his problem, though, not mine. There’s nothing wrong with me or my Omega. He scared us. He’s not supposed to be here. Now, he’s throwing around directives like I should be grateful to follow them.
And that Omega voice inside of me? She is not impressed.
Before he answers, I raise my chin. “You should go,” I decide. “I’ve had a really long day, and I need to get in my nest, now.”
Smith’s scent deepens, but so does his frown. “Didn’t you hear me? It’s not safe here,” he insists. “Those cracks in the walls? They’re vertical—indicative of structural damage. I wouldn’t be surprised to find the foundation is compromised. Or non-existent.”
My brain can’t even process what he’s saying. All I know is that I need him to get out of here before I perfume for real and we have a serious problem. “I’ll take that under advisement,” I return, as polite as can be. “Thank you for your concern.”
When I move to open the door, Smith steps smoothly in front of me. “Listen, petal” he intones, leaning down to catch my eye. “You’re not listening to me.”
I step back and loose a huffing noise I would usually never dare to make. But my Omega is so pissed at this alpha, neither of us can really care much about angering him at the moment.
“Petal?”
He flicks a dismissive look at my flower robe before correcting himself. “Fine. You aren’t listening, Miss Skyes.”
“No, I’m not,” I return calmly, crossing my arms. “You have no right to show up here and make demands. I don’t even know you, other than the fact that you’re horribly rude and spoiled and somehow feel entitled to be in my space after I’ve asked you to leave.”
Smith’s jaw ticks. “We can discuss my personal shortcomings at a later date. For now, I need you to tell me what it would take to convince you to come with me.”
I wish I had the nerve to roll my eyes. Instead, I smile sweetly. “A miracle.”
