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"Thank you." I take the water from Zach and down it, wiping the sweat from my neck as I drink. I thank Roxy every day for giving me this mask and letting me drop some of that iron-clad control. Even when drinking water, I was taught to take small, careful sips.
Instead, I swallow it all, then slide the empty glass back. Zach gives me a kind smile in return. He's so attentive, sweet, and kind. Gentle. I wish my alphas noticed I was in as much pain as Zach does.
And, as an omega, Zach knows exactly what I need. He knows what I'm going through, as evidenced by the second glass of water he pushes toward me. "You should get out of here, Imogen."
We share a commiserating wince. He knows how much this sucks. "Yeah. I will. Soon."
Tilting his head, he lets me know I can find him if I need anything—I assume he doesn't mean sexual favors, but you never know with other omegas; sex is a huge part of our life, and we know how to take care of each other. It wasn't uncommon for the omegas in my dorm in school to have fun with each other outside of their heat, when they weren't begging for a knot or when an inflatable toy was enough. Sometimes it's not the alpha; it's just having another person take control of your body, letting you just feel. Experience. Enjoy.
I sip the second water, forcing my thoughts away from sex, though it's pointless. Everywhere I look, there's sex. Not full on, but the hint of it. The idea. Pheromones laced with lust. Lap dances. Franky on stage, completely topless, rendering every person watching speechless and enthralled. I found out recently that she’s blind as a bat, but you’d never guess by the way she moves with the pole.
I look back at a private dance at the corner of the room near one of the booths. A customer does his best not to touch, and though I'm several feet away, I can see his white knuckle grip on the seat beneath him. One of the beta dancers, Chandra, likes to push the envelope, and I wouldn't be surprised if that man came in his pants with the way she's rubbing herself on him, bouncing her body, just barely fulfilling his needs.
"Looks like fun, don't it?" Hot breath makes me flinch, and I turn, alarmed by the sudden orange and grass scent in my face.
"Hmm?" I ask, slipping my practiced smile on, grateful for the feathered mask hiding my discomfort.
He takes my smile as a cue. "How about it? A lap dance? How much?"
"Oh. Thank you for the offer, but I'm not… I don't do lap dances. But I'm certain Chandra would be happy to entertain you later if you're patient." I smile as best I can, encouraging him to fulfill his needs elsewhere.
Unfortunately, it doesn't work. His hand snakes out around my waist, fingers gripping my hip. I squeak in surprise. He is not my mate, and I hate the sensation of being touched. I barely have time to push out of his arms, the feel of his hand on my heated skin making me squirm with nausea while the next few moments register in slow motion.
My back hits the bar, and my water glass knocks over, spilling everywhere. The man who touched me hits the ground, scrambling away from Iggy's fists, lifting high in the air, wailing on the man, pounding into him over and over. People scream, scurrying out of the way. Cass is there a moment later, pulling Iggy off the man, who grunts and rolls onto his side, his face a bloody mess.
I should be terrified. Screaming. Disgusted. Iggy and I lock eyes, he looks wild, crazed.
I want to comfort him, but… I have no clue why. He was the one who overreacted. I'm the omega in heat, I'm the one in trouble and in need. I growl in frustration, and he hears it, brows furrowing.
"Are you okay?" He asks, stepping into my personal space. It's the first time he's spoken to me since we met. My legs press together, his voice caressing down my spine. His concern, it overshadows everything, including his irrational, violent behavior, a totally disproportionate reaction to one hand on my waist. But all my omega sees is her mate stepping in to protect her, and on the verge of my heat, I'm here for it.
He steps back, and the loss of his attention is visceral. But the commotion helped distract me from the ache in my belly, and I'm relieved when I see the man he hit stumbles with his arm around one of the bouncers as he's escorted out of the club in one piece.
"Will he be okay?" I ask.
"Don't worry about him. Are you okay?" Iggy turns back to me.
"I'm fine," I whisper, locking eyes with him once more. His brows knit closer like he's trying to figure something out, eyes dilating, doing nothing to hide the tightly leashed alpha growling within. His spicy red wine and cinnamon scent spikes between us. I want to bury myself in it. I want to drink it. He steps closer and reaches up, fingertips coming to the edge of my mask, but he doesn't quite touch. I blink, unable, unwilling to pull away, to break the spell. I want him to pull off my mask, to kiss me, to never ignore me again. Touch me, Iggy, take off my mask. Tell me you want me like I want you.
It's a pipe dream, though, because Cass comes to stand beside us, causing Iggy to growl and storm off like that didn't all just happen. Like his alpha didn't just step in to protect me.
"He's not a violent guy," Cass says, watching his pack mate walk away. Then he amends, "I mean, he would never hurt you. You okay?"
"Yes, thank you. I'm fine. And I suppose hitting a man who touches one of the dancers is against club policy?"
"Uh… yeah. No touching the dancers without their permission."
He shrugs awkwardly, and it's very out of place for him; he usually looks so comfortable in his skin. Cass scratches at his short blond beard, and I inhale his scent, imagining his chin scratching between my thighs. Clean cotton, like freshly dried laundry from a summer breeze, relaxing and languid.
I'm too lost in lust with him to formulate a response, so he continues, "He's not… he's umm. I dunno. Yeah, he uses his fists to solve problems. But he'd never hurt you. Ever. You know that, right? He'd never hurt any omega, or woman, or… well, there's a long list there. 'Cause he's a good guy. I just feel like I need you to know that."
"I understand, Cass. I'm not afraid of him."
He nods slowly. "Right. Are you feeling any better?"
The reminder of my heat that's pending, the countdown of only a handful of hours before I'm lost to delirium, is jarring. I look away because if I keep looking at him, I'll tell him the truth.
But he won't believe me. He'll just hear some omega, about to go into heat, beg him to take her home and share her with his pack mates to help her ride through the pleasure and pain. We've barely spoken. I've just been stalking them from afar, and if he's noticed at all, he'll think I'm just another Emily. An omega with a crush.
