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My cheeks burn, and there’s no way I’m meeting anyone’s eyes. I shouldn’t be here. Yet, Dylan has his hand firmly wrapped around mine and won’t let go. Once again, I’m the piece of a puzzle that doesn’t belong.
“Will you be joining the archery event this morning, Dylan?” Falcon asks as he cuts up his eggs with a knife and fork. He is meticulous, each bite is almost evenly, perfectly sized. I feel grubby just thinking about eating in front of him.
Dylan, as expected, ignores the alpha’s question. I catch a flash of frustration in Silas’ eyes before he slumps.
I sit back, eating almost mechanically as I watch the way they interact with him. Grayson almost reaches out to refill his drink but, at the last moment, changes his mind. Silas’ eyes flash when someone almost bumps into him. Falcon gets him more bacon before he can speak.
Oh. OH. They really do care about him.
I switch my attention to the omega beside me. Every now and again, he trembles. I thought it was because he was scared. That’s not fear. The scent of lemons is strong around him whenever they’re around. He likes them, too.
That is devastating. But reality, a horrible voice inside my head, whispers snidely.
I chew on a mouthful of toast and catch sight of Silvie. She’s happier than I've ever seen her. Having the time of her life in a world she’s never gotten to experience. Dylan has a chance at a happy ending here.
Maybe he has a good reason for hating them? Maybe…
“How do you know if the omegas find scent matches?” I ask curiously.
The alphas all pause, their intimidating stares locking on me. Silas is the first to clear his throat.
“When you meet your scent match,” his eyes drift to Dylan, “it’s like the world is suddenly filled with colour and sound, and a language you didn’t know the words to suddenly makes sense in your brain. You can’t imagine being without them or making them hurt.” He trails off and forces himself to look at me.
Beside me, Dylan is stiff.
I exhale and nod. “If you would excuse me, I need to use the ladies’ room.”
Loitering outside the gold lift makes me feel creepy, but sure enough, Falcon walks into the foyer and stops.
“Something you need, Miss Davies?”
“Uh, yes. I’d like a meeting with you, please. Now.” My words come out in starts and almost stutters. But, to be fair, I think anyone would be struggling to communicate in English with this giant alpha and his icy stare pinning them.
He walks closer and presses the lift’s button. The doors open, and I…can only stare. How rich do you have to be to have a lift decorated this elegantly? Flowers and vines are carved into the handrails and engraved on the gold mirrored surface. It’s truly its own work of art.
The penthouse is…very, um. I mean, you can tell it’s expensive, but it’s so white like a showroom. I can’t imagine someone living here. But the views out the windows are incredible.
“Come and sit down.” Falcon offers and takes a seat on the lounge.
I choose one opposite him and sit down. My pulse jumps and races when the lift doors open, and Silas and Grayson walk inside. Both of them spot me and freeze.
“I thought we were doing this later?” Grayson said.
“She asked for a meeting,” Falcon replies with a disdainful glance at me.
“Yes. I, uh, did.” I swallow hard. “You hurt my friend.”
The three of them stiffen before Silas and Grayson walk to sit down beside Falcon. It’s interesting, the differences in the way they sit. Grayson slouches, his legs spread wide, looking relaxed and completely terrifying. Silas wraps his arms around his chest and crosses his legs, closing himself off. But Falcon sits upright and relaxed, but his body is pointed at me, and his attention on my face doesn’t waver.
How is it possible that sitting can be intimidating? Should I be practicing this? Do they get lessons?
“What are you here for, Miss Davies?”
“You hurt him.” I say before I can think. “I want to know what you did.”
“That has no bearing on you whatsoever,” Falcon says evenly.
“It does. It matters a great deal.”
