Page 16 of The Girl Beneath the Sea

There are two tin mugs on the hooks over the sink. There’s a full pot.

No. I’m not giving him the damned coffee. I’m not falling for the play.

Still, it’s freezing. He has two blankets.

A man shaking cold in a steel box all night is a man getting sick, and sick cargo is a problem I don’t need.

I know what he’s doing. Knowing makes it easier to avoid it.

I carry the second mug down, furious at him for asking and at myself for pouring. I take the ladder slow so nothing spills.

When the door swings, he’s where I left him. He sees the mug, and for half a second I get a look off him I don’t expect.

It’s surprise — the real kind, unguarded. Then it’s gone, folded away as quick as it came.

“Thank you,” he says, and takes it in both hands, careful to keep his fingers well clear of mine. The heat of the tin makes him close his eyes.

He holds the mug under his chin and lets the steam come up into his face, and he breathes it in the way I’d breathe him if I were dumber than I am.

It’s instant coffee off a propane ring, and he handles it like the good china at a state dinner.

I’m two steps back and reaching for the door when the scent reaches me instead.

It’s changed overnight. I caught it when I first came down and put it down to the blankets, to sleep, to the fear draining out of him now that he’s fed and warmer.

Standing in the doorway I get it full. It’s deeper than yesterday. Riper. The vanilla has gone to warm sugar, the strawberry is sweeter, and my body answers it so hard and so fast that I put a hand on the doorframe again.

I know that change. Any alpha who has spent a working life around omegas knows that change.

I get out. I bolt the door with hands that aren’t as steady as I’d like, and I stand in the hold doing the last sum, the one I didn’t want.

Whatever the palace had him on — and a prince like that is on everything, blockers, suppressants, a doctor for every hour of the day — none of it came in the box with him. There was water, food, wipes, bags, batteries. Whoever packed it thought of everything a body needs for two weeks, except the one thing his is about to.

For whatever reason, I am expected to stay here for two weeks before I can leave. His heat is going to beat my exit.

Then what the fuck do I do when that happens?

I don’t know why I am even asking that question because I know exactly what I am going to do.

What we are both going to do.

That isn’t an option. I need to find a way out of this.

5. Aurelio

God, he smells good. So good. It’s insane. I’ve never smelled anything like it.

Are all unbonded alphas like that? Is that why they keep them away from me? When he came in with the coffee, I just wanted to smash it out of his hands, then get on my knees and rub my face all over his body starting from his ankles up.

I am insane. Why would I do that? God, I want to.

He was gone so fast. Why? Do I smell that bad? He dropped the food and water and then practically ran for it. He couldn’t get away from me quickly enough.

It shouldn’t sting. He is the man who is keeping me in this box. He has no good reason to linger and I have no reason to want him to.

I sit down on the folded blankets with the tin mug between my hands. It stings anyway.

I feel needy. I don’t have a better word for it. I have been lonely my whole life so I am used to feeling like I am in need of affection, but this is not that.