AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Affirmative. I’ll meet you at the vehicle,” he responds, before clicking the radio into the holster on his belt. The whole time his gaze holds mine, and I’m sucked in by the swirling confusion in the blue depths. He clears his throat and runs a hand through his dark brown mop of hair. “I apologize for the lack of professionalism. I don’t know what came over me.”
I give him a tentative smile, knowing both of our actions are driven by our animalistic instincts. Still though… I’ve been around emerged alphas before, but I’ve never had this visceral of a reaction.
He frowns, his gaze snagging on my bare chest, save for my bra. Faster than I can track, he yanks his black enforcer shirt over his head and hands it to me. I’m stunned speechless for a moment as I stare at his naked chest. Chiseled abs, a delicious V I’d pay to lick, and a tiny trail of hair leading to his… package.
I slip his shirt over my head, which is a bad idea, because now I’m covered in his scent and I want to drown in it. He almost seems disappointed by me covering up his view before he quickly erases the look on his face. “I’ll accept your apology on one condition,” I reply, wiping my face and neck with the damp shirt I’m fisting, trying to remove the water beaded on me. It smells like a mixture of me and the forest.
He tilts his head and his eyes narrow, like he knows what I’m about to say. “And what’s that?” he asks, anyway.
“Let me go and say I escaped. Or better yet, that you never even saw me,” I quip with a hopeful smile. Regret clouds his eyes like he hates the thought of saying no to me, and instead of doing just that, he scoops me into his arms bridal style and walks in the direction we came. The action catches me off guard, not expecting him to manhandle me again so soon, and a squeak of surprise tumbles from my lips. “What are you doing? Let me down!” I demand.
“No,” he barks out, displeasure dripping from the single word.
“Why not?” I argue, pushing at his chest to disrupt his hold.
“Because you already shredded your feet trying to run from me, and seeing you hurt is tearing me up. I can’t stand to watch you do any more damage to yourself.” His eyes trace over the cuts lining my face as he says it. Something tells me I won’t get him to change his mind, so I cross my arms, not helping him hold my weight. If he wants to manhandle me, he needs to go all out.
My body may enjoy his touch, but my mind is in control once more. He’s bringing me to the one thing I’ve spent the past three days living in the woods to avoid. Because once it’s over… my life will change forever.
Chapter 2
Verity
By the time the vehicle rolls to a stop, I’m exhausted from my tromp through the forest. Andrik doesn’t say much the entire ride. He only stares at me through the rearview mirror occasionally, like I’m an enigma. That makes two of us, buddy. What happened between us is something I’ve never experienced with another alpha.
His partner met us at the car, and I wasn’t phased by him at all. In fact, his presence had me pressing farther into Andrik to ensure there wasn’t a risk of him touching me. Something about the powdery tones of his scent made my nose itch. Poor guy. Who wants to smell like an old lady when he’s in his late-twenties at the most?
The only comfort I find in the whole ordeal is that my reaction is completely unique to Andrik. At least I won’t turn into a puddle of goo around every alpha.
Dread churns my stomach the further away from the forest we get, and it only worsens when Andrik’s partner turns on the radio, playing the opening announcements of the ceremony. The only thing I have to look forward to now is seeing Ryland. Although, I know my best friend is bound to be furious with the way I left without a word.
The upbeat director, Mrs. Violet, who hosts every year, comes across the sound waves, her voice as crisp and clear as if I’m in the room with her. “Welcome to the annual Designation Ceremony. You are this world’s future.
“Today we will announce the designations of a new group of individuals and honor the role they’ll play in society. I know you’re as excited as I am to find out how many omegas will come of age.” She pauses, and I know she’s arching a brow at the camera, giving everyone a sly glance. “We have some amazing plans for this year’s season at Hidden Haven Manor.”
It’s the same way she opens her speech every season, and I can picture each movement she makes from having watched the televised version more times than I can count. The way she marches onto the platform and straightens her already perfectly coiffed hair, as if it’s a nervous tick she can’t quite overcome. The smile she demurely flashes at the crowd as she places a leather-bound notebook on the podium and clears her throat. It’s almost as if she rehearses every single gesture like it’s a showcase of her skills instead of a monumental life changing event for the participants.
She moves on to announce the first person to walk across the stage. There’s a moment of silence as her assistant holds the chalice against their lips so they can take a sip of the aphrodisiac that will trigger an amplified release of pheromones into the air.
There’s no mistaking what they are based on their scent. With each participant, she excitedly announces their designation. The twinkling trill of her voice is too upbeat for my taste. I want to zone her out, but knowing I’m supposed to be there right now has me listening closely.
Beta, beta, beta, alpha, beta, beta, alpha… on and on. I bite my thumbnail, waiting and wishing to hear omegas being announced.
And yet the more names that pass without a single mention of an omega, the more my anxiety builds. I’m not the only one either. You normally can’t hear the crowd through the broadcast since Mrs. Violet wears a microphone, but they’re so loud, murmuring comes across the airwaves.
Mrs. Violet’s voice is strained as she tries to ignore their reactions and I can tell the tension in the room is thick, even if I’m not there.
My thoughts are interrupted when my door pops open and a hand extends, holding a wet cloth. I guess it’s too much to ask for some time to freshen up. At least he’s given me this small mercy to wipe the mud from my face and arms. Next he hands me a spritzer filled with scent dampening solution. “Don’t want to give away your perfume before it’s time,” the alpha comments, pulling on a fresh shirt.
When I’m finished, he offers me his hand to take, helping me from the car. My feet hit the pavement, and I suck in a sharp breath from the pain, unable to hold it back. The damage to my feet is worse than I thought. Agony stabs through me like hot needles, drawing a pathetic whimper from me. At the sound, Andrik gives me a telling look before silently scooping me into his arms, carrying me toward the building that houses the ceremony where my future will be set in stone.
We’re all considered a beta when we’re born, but when the season of our twenty-first birthday rolls around, our designations fully mature and it catapults us into the societal level we’ll remain for the rest of our lives. Thus, the big charade at the beginning of every season and why I’m exuding more and more omega tendencies. I wish it explained why my perfume is off the charts right now. Though if I were a betting woman, I’d say it’s because of the burly enforcer who chased after me.
Speaking of which, Andrik’s hand shifts on my waist, his fingers meeting the sliver of skin where his shirt is bunched up. A low moan tumbles from my lips as his chest rumbles and his fingers caress the small area that’s exposed. But with my destiny looming over my head, everything is getting too real, too fast for me. I clear my throat, noting the door is only a few feet away. As much as I tried to avoid this moment, I know I’ll regret it if I don’t face it on my own terms. “I’ll walk the rest of the way. Thank you, Andrik.”
He nods and sets me on my feet. I square my shoulders before pushing open the doors, ignoring the pain throbbing through my soles. Light spills into the dim auditorium from the open doors announcing my arrival. Mrs. Violet’s voice cuts out mid-word and every eye turns to meet mine. Several of them widen, a few give an appalled gasp like they’re clutching their pearls. That’s when I realize what a fabulous first impression I’m making.
A leaf falls from my hair, and a quick glance down confirms what a mess my clothes are. My ripped jeans pair nicely with smears of clay and blood from the branches, but they don’t quite pull off the distressed style that seems so popular. My shirt—or should I say Andrik’s shirt—is wrinkled and hangs loosely on my frame. Of course, my bare feet speak more of homelessness than upstanding citizen.
