I didn’t want to be caught, obviously, but I felt my omega instincts surfacing, and I could not fully stamp them out without a consistent dose of my suppressant. If I had been honest withmyself, I would have been excited to see him again, even as fear ran through me.
I thought back to our interaction at the checkpoint; the way his relaxed, muscled limbs stretched over his head. When he raised his arms, his shirt rode up, and I could see the “V” shaped crease of his hip, which led down to the place he had bulged. His body was dangerous and tempting.
Even his smile was predatory, mainly because his incisors were sharper and more pointed than usual. The soldier’s partially hooded, bright green eyes crinkled when he smirked at me. His chiseled jaw and two dimples, which adorned each side of his cheeks, gave him a “pretty boy” appearance. Dark brown hair sat on his head. It was shorter on the sides and longer on top, falling in a perfect wave across his forehead.
My mind drifted back to his dimples and the sharp “V” beneath his shirt when a dull ache flared low in my stomach and deep between my legs. I squeezed my thighs together as tight as I could, gulping down cool water during our brief break before the final two songs. I was desperately trying to shove thoughts of the alpha soldier out of my head.
Despite my nerves and Harper and I bickering earlier, we all played really well. Our set was comprised of a few originals mixed with covers, mostly rock, punk-pop music. The packed bar buzzed with excitement, and our tip jar overflowed. Lilly attributed the generous gratuities to her impromptu makeover, while Harper argued the low-cut tank she had forced me into wearing was the real reason.
The last two songs were the best of the night. Malcolm tapped away on the drums, Lily flicked her bass, Alex strummed the guitar, and Harper played the electric piano. I hit a high note, causing the crowd that had gathered in front of the stage togo wild. The vibes were great, and the bar patrons had been interacting with us all night. It was mostly soldiers, but a few beta women danced in groups around the stage, including one who had a mate-to-be sash on. My nerves had all but melted away, and I put the memory of the alpha as far out of my mind as I could manage.
When our set was over, we moved our equipment to the back area of the stage, ready for it to be loaded into the van. Everyone was in a surprisingly good mood, so we hung out with Billy and his friends before heading home for the night. The packed bar buzzed, and they had started playing music over the speakers. The room grew dark when the stage spotlights turned off, and there was a haze of cigarette smoke floating through the air.
Harper had long disappeared without offering to help move anything. I saw her from across the bar, laughing too enthusiastically as she put her hand on Billy’s arm. If he didn't know she was obsessed with him, he was dumb or blind.
Alex and Lily were twirling around the dance floor, and they waved, beckoning me to join them. We all held hands, jumping up and down, spinning in a circle, swaying to the heavy beat.
During that moment, I was happy and carefree. My anxiety had dissipated, and I felt safe for the first time in a long time. I had conquered my biggest fear when I stood right in front of that alpha. He had even scented me, and I still had my freedom. No one knew I was an omega. I had put the scent blocker and suppressant to the ultimate test and passed.
Rarely did I let my guard down and just enjoy time with my friends. Maybe now I would feel more comfortable leaving the cabin, tagging along on their many outings in the city. They always talked about the fun things they did as a group, and itmade me feel like an outsider. But leisure wasn’t worth risking possible exposure.
They had talked about going to see a movie next weekend, so maybe I would ask to tag along. I had been worried about possibly being seated near an alpha, but now that I knew how well the suppressant and lotion had worked, I was sure I would go unnoticed.
I needed a break from the dance floor. A sheen of sweat covered my skin, and I was so thirsty. It was also getting late, and we still had a long drive ahead of us. I told Alex and Lily I was going to grab some water at the bar and start loading a few of the instruments into the van. Alex nodded and said he would meet me out there after the next song to load the heavier equipment. I hadn’t seen Malcolm and Harper for a while, but I was sure Alex would start rounding them up soon. He gave me the van keys and, after ordering a glass of ice water, I made my way to the back of the venue.
I grabbed a few guitars and propped the back door open so I wouldn’t get locked out. A grin plastered my face, thinking about how well we had played and how fun the night had turned out. After crossing the parking lot and putting the guitars into the van, I started heading back to collect the next round of equipment.
A single streetlight buzzed and flickered overhead, doing its best to illuminate the area, but it was oppressively dark, and my stomach turned with nerves. It was only when I got to the middle of the parking lot that I realized the back door to the venue had closed. I must not have wedged the doorstop in fully. I groaned, knowing I was going to have to walk all the way around the building now.
The parking lot was mostly empty, with a handful of cars scattered across the spaces. A black truck sat crooked near the dumpsters, right next to the sidewalk that wrapped around the building’s side. I rolled my eyes. Who the hell left their truck like that?
Probably a drunk driver.
The parked truck was so far out of its spot, it was practically halfway on the sidewalk, leaving only a narrow gap between it and the building’s corner. I turned sideways to slip past, careful not to brush the truck and trigger an alarm. But as I rounded the corner, I suddenly collided with something broad and warm.
I’d walked straight into someone’s chest.
“I’m so sorry…” I started, but the apology died on my tongue as my chin tilted up to view the person I had collided with.
The building eclipsed the streetlight’s glow, plunging the alley into shadow, and the man’s looming silhouette sent a chill crawling down my spine. He was massive, broader and taller than me. His height forced me to tilt my head up just to see his face. Clad in sleek black from head to toe, including gloves, my fear spiked. Why gloves?
Suddenly, it all clicked: a towering man in dark clothes, gloved hands, a forbidding alley, and a suspicious van parked nearby.
I was inserioustrouble.
I steeled myself to meet his gaze, but the moment I did, regret washed over me. Darkness swallowed his face, but two yellow eyes glowed back, more animal than human, cold and unblinking. From somewhere beyond the building, I heard Alex calling my name, looking for me. A scream clawed at my throat,but before it could escape, a sharp, icy prick stung my neck, and gloved hands clamped over my mouth.
The last thing I remember before everything went black were those glowing eyes locked on me and a voice coming from behind whispering right in my ear, “Got you, Kitten.”
Chapter 9: Cade
My father’s office smelled of tobacco and leather. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, but I despised it because l associated the scent with his presence and every miserable memory of my childhood.
What should have been a quick meeting to retrieve a seizure warrant for the omega had dragged on, as I suspected it would. Despite knowing what time I was arriving, he made me wait in the lobby with his secretary for nearly an hour.
Every interaction with my father was a never-ending play for power, in which he asserted his dominance and control over my brother and me. He liked to remind us that despite the peppered streaks running through his hair, and wrinkled creases around his eyes, he was very much still in command. And how could we forget, when the scars that littered our bodies were a visual cue?
During our childhood, he ruled our home with an iron fist, apathetic to my mother’s scorn and drug abuse. He turned a blind eye to her torment of Killian, and would even assist in her abuse by trying to “knock the sensitivity out of him.” We were both frequently scattered with bruises shaped to fit my father’s fist.
