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Boots stomped across the room, coming to a stop close to me. The sultry fragrance of freshly oiled leather and ripe citrus wrapped around me.
“May I touch your nest, omega?” His voice was low and rough, strained, like he needed to be near me as much as I did him.
I gave a simple nod, the bone-deep realization that my nest was horribly inadequate. But for the first time, I didn’t mind being called omega. Not when the word was spoken with such reverence and respect.
“It’s a lovely nest, little one,” he added, touching the edges of a sheet like it was made from cashmere.
A balloon named hope swelled in my chest, lifting me up.
“Hazel.” My name on his lips was perfection. And familiar in a way that made me miss my family all over.
“Look at me, baby,” he beckoned.
Head still bent, I opened my eyes to see a rough hand, palm up, outstretched toward me. Waiting for me to take it.
Fingers trembling, I placed my hand in his. Lightning shot through my limb as I felt his touch, and a second later his massive hand wrapped around my much smaller one.
“Look at me,” he repeated, the three words a plea.
Slowly I lifted my eyes, letting them find his.
They were a brilliant sort of blue that almost glowed in the dark room. His hair was cut short, but seemed like it was dark blond. He had a sharp jaw covered in stubble that only added to his appeal, and he was dressed like Kellan had been—black t-shirt that looked ready to rip under the strain of heavy muscles, black tactical pants and black boots. He towered over me, and I was willing to bet he was easily seven inches taller than me when I was standing.
His lips twitched as he smiled at me, and I caught the edge of a scar on his upper lip.
I gasped, realization penetrating my heat-warped brain. I knew that scar. That smile.
I knew this alpha.
“Crew?”
17
Hazel
Approval warmed Crew’s midnight blue eyes as he smiled at me. “You remember me.”
I nodded, my throat suddenly bone-dry. It was hard to forget the guy you’d obsessed over for the better part of a decade. Calla’s oldest brother had always been this unattainable dream to me. Well, me and every other one of our friends. It used to drive my best friend nuts that Crew was the one we’d giggle and whisper about at sleepovers.
Sexy, confident, and extremely alpha, I’d felt my heart go flippity-flop every time he grinned at me when I was growing up.
Now my heart was about to fall out of my chest. “How are you here? Why are you here?”
“Sir—” Dr. Labine started up once more.
My gaze snapped to the doctor, a moment of clarity giving me a much needed boost of confidence. “You said I needed an alpha, right?”
Dr. Labine’s jaw dropped open for a second before he gave a terse nod.
“Crew is an alpha, and I know him,” I reasoned. “Please, let him stay with me.”
Dr. Labine flushed. “This is highly inappropriate.”
Crew turned, arching a brow. “And setting up a vulnerable omega with an alpha in your pack, a pack that you mentioned has been wanting an omega, wouldn’t raise any red flags?”
Dr. Labine’s cheeks flushed crimson. “I was only trying to?—”
“I’m well aware of what you were trying to do,” Crew cut him off, his tone glacial. “Next time you might want to make sure the door’s fully closed before playing matchmaker instead of doctor.”
