I'm one step closer to returning to my scent matches.
Will they be happy to see me? Furious? I imagine it's the latter. A sliver of fear skates through me, but it's the good kind of terror. The thought of all of their rage and passion directed solely on me…
Well…
I bite my lower lip, the flesh yielding beneath my teeth. I don't necessarily like riling the guys up, but the thought of them "punishing" me causes my insides to twist and a scalding heat to invade my entire body.
Ridge would probably glower down at me, his eyes ablaze with unbridled passion, the twitch in his jaw commandeering my attention. His scent of pine and wildfire would wrap around me, suffocating in the most delicious way possible.
Colter would fold his massive, muscular arms over his chest and simply stare at me through the holes in his skull mask, not saying a word. A palpable tension would skewer the air, almost like a blade waiting to fall. His silence would be more terrifying than any shouted words.
Kylian would grin manically as he steps closer, not just encroaching on my personal space but absolutely dominating it. His chaotic energy would crackle around us, dangerous and enticing.
And Luka would reverently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and murmur, "What do you think you're doing here, Princess?" His voice would be low, dangerous, but with an undercurrent of something softer, something only I would be able to detect.
Coils of heat blast through me, pooling low in my belly.
Yes, I can't say I'd mind being the sole focus of their attention, their anger, their passion.
I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't register the person in front of me until my nose is flush against his chest. The impact sends me stumbling back, my hands flying up to cover my face in embarrassment. Shame rises in my cheeks, and I quickly step away, inwardly cursing myself.
"Sorry," I mutter, praying whoever it is I barreled into doesn't recognize me as the royal princess.
Knowing my luck, my unintentional blunder will make its way back to my mother, and she'll immediately enroll me in grace courses.
Are there even grace courses? Fuck if I know. I'll have to look over the Darling catalog one of these days. The thought of my mother's reaction makes me shudder. She'd probably hire some ancient, severe-looking instructor who'd make me walk with books on my head for hours.
"It's okay." The low, familiar voice rumbles through me like gravel, and I snap my head up immediately.
I recognize that sharp jawline and shock of brown hair, even though I'd only ever seen him a few times.
Brock.
One of the alphas in the Stirling pack my mother wants me to marry.
Why is he here?
For me?
Icy disdain sweeps through me, and I find my upper lip curling before I can stop myself. It takes considerable effort to rearrange my features into something not so…well…hideous. I smooth my expression, forcing my lips into a polite smile that feels brittle on my face.
"Brock." I nod politely and remind myself repeatedly it’s not his fault my mother’s an evil dictator with a superiority complex. "How…nice."
His own lips twitch. "I'm not here for you, Brylee. Don't worry."
Some of the tension in my shoulders loosens. Not all, but enough that the smile on my face this time is slightly more genuine.
"Sorry," I say sincerely, running a hand along the back of my head. "I didn't mean to be a..."
It'd probably be inappropriate for me to say a "raging bitch," so I just leave the statement as is.
"Look," Brock begins, absently scratching at the nape of his neck, "I know your parents have been pushing for you to join our pack." His shrewd, albeit kind, eyes laser in on me like two heat-seeking missiles. "But I also know that's not what you want. Am I wrong?"
Heat rises to my cheeks. "No."
I have no idea how much he knows about my relationship with Alpha Team X, but I think my feelings for them would be evident to anyone with eyes or ears. The bond between us is palpable, a force of nature that even casual observers must notice.
"Things don't have to be weird between us," Brock continues, still assessing me with that penetrating gaze of his. "Your alphas… They're my friends. Our friends. I would never go after their omega." He gestures between the two of us. "I think I knew from the get-go that this? Us? It'll never happen. I'm not upset about it. You're a sweet and beautiful girl, Brylee, but I'm hoping…" Now his smile turns decidedly sheepish, almost hesitant. "Well, I'm hoping our pack will find our own scent match."
