Page 47 of Unravel Me

The omega notices immediately and grabs my arm, but I'm almost a head taller than he is, and he doesn't have the strength to support my weight.

Slowly, helplessly, I slide down the frame until I end up on my knees.

The beta turns toward the interior of the house and calls out,

"Mauro!"

My vision is spinning now, but not enough to keep me from noticing the figure emerging at the far end of the hallway.

The morning sun pours in from somewhere behind him, probably through the living room, flooding the corridor with backlight and leaving anyone walking toward the entrance wrapped in shadow. Through the blur in my vision, I can make out a tall alpha approaching, and my heart instantly begins hammering for reasons I can't explain.

I blink desperately, forcing my eyes to focus, and finally the image sharpens. As he steps out of the deepest shadows, a quiet gasp escapes me.

He's a breathtakingly handsome young man. The kind of attractiveness that belongs on the cover of a modeling catalog, for sure.

Soft dark auburn curls frame a classically chiseled face. His shoulders are broad, and he's very tall, at least six foot nine by my estimate. Like the older beta's, his eyes are a rich dark hazel, fixed on me with startling intensity beneath absurdly long black lashes.

The sight of him hits me like a battering ram, stealing the air from my lungs.

The rush that tears through me is so overwhelming that I slip completely out of the omega's helpful grip and land on my butt.

Holy shit…

Maybe this is the place Storm was talking about from the start?!

This man has to be my True Mate.

The certainty hits with such force that it feels almost like a guarantee. That’s it, Storm was simply off by half a mile and accidentally sent me into the forest instead of here. It has to be him. There's no other explanation for how intensely I'm reacting.

The older beta steps closer and says in a calm, matter-of-fact voice, "Our guest isn't feeling well. Could you carry him into the living room? He needs some help."

Normally I would've protested, but right now this feels like the perfect excuse to touch the alpha. He's wearing nothing more than a black tank top and black tactical pants, and he looks unbelievably sexy. I catch a glimpse of tattoos winding across one forearm, though I can't make them out clearly.

Dear Fate, he's exactly my type.

E-xact-ly!

All I can think about is having him wrap his arms around me and finally feeling his skin beneath my fingers, so I make absolutely no effort to scramble back to my feet.

He crouches beside me.

I inhale deeply… and instantly realize he's wearing pheromone blockers. Aside from the clean scent of shower gel, and soap, I can't smell anything else.

This is it.

This is the moment.

I'm absolutely convinced that in the next few seconds I'll experience the legendary First Touch, that overwhelming surge revealing the truth about our compatibility.

The young alpha slides one arm beneath my knees and the other behind my back. I seize the brief instant when his forearm passes close to my leg, reaching out to brush my fingertips against his bare skin.

Damn it…

Where's the First Touch?

It feels nice, sure. A pleasant little shiver runs through me, but there's none of that legendary explosion everyone talks about.

Blinking rapidly, I swallow around the crushing disappointment.