She stops in front of me.
Close enough to touch.
Close enough that I could reach out and pull her against me if I wanted to, could claim those lips that are curved in that knowing smile, could prove that Sage isn't the only one who can make her cry out.
"Yes," I hear myself say.
The word surprises me.
I don't usually admit to emotions—don't usuallyhaveemotions that require admitting—but something about this girl makes honesty feel less like vulnerability and more like... connection.
"And if I am?" I add, holding her gaze. "What are you going to do about it?"
Her smirk widens.
Dangerous.
Playful.
Absolutely fucking beautiful.
"Well," she says, and her voice drops into something lower, more intimate. "I don't know. Because I'm not sure if I'm allowed to be bold and just kiss my Alpha when he's not feeling loved."
My Alpha.
The possessive makes my stomach clench.
"I want to actually respect your boundaries," she continues, and there's something almost earnest underneath the teasing now. "This is all new to me too. I don't know the rules. Don't know what's okay and what isn't. So..."
She reaches up.
Her fingers—small, callused, stained with blood that's still drying—brush against my jaw.
Gentle.
Exploratory.
Like she's touching something precious and doesn't want to break it.
"Jett. What do you want from your Omega?"
Your Omega.
The words hit me like a physical blow.
Your Omega.
She's offering herself.
Asking what I want.
Giving me permission to want things I've never let myself want before.
Heat floods my cheeks.
I'm blushing.
Actually blushing, like some untouched teenager instead of a trained killer who's taken more lives than he can count.
