Page 67 of Unravel Me

Damn, why?!

Something inside me is about to snap. No… not again, not another chance to meet him slipping right through my fingers.

On pure impulse, I start rushing after them, ready to stop both of them, but a firm hand lands on my shoulder before I can take more than a single step.

I turn and meet Ennio's cold face. His black, icy eyes bore straight into mine.

"Leave him."

I quickly sign to him, "You don't understand! This might be my only chance to talk to him!"

"Mauro. This case is already lost. You won't be able to get him out of the Ring. Anzo won't help you. Ferguson, on the other hand, is close friends with a lot of people in the Ring. If anyone can protect Jared from Rocco, it's him. Believe me, things could've turned out much worse for Jared."

My throat tightens painfully; it feels as though the ground is giving way beneath my feet.

"He’s now out of your reach," Ennio adds.

My hopes, my plans, everything I'd imagined… every scenario where I touched Jared’s hand, that First Touch jolt raced through both of us, and from that moment on everything became so much simpler, where I'd move mountains to free him from the Ring… all of it turns to dust before my eyes.

My hands shake as I sign my reply.

"And who’s going to protect Jared from Ferguson?"

CHAPTER 11: JARED

Present day

When I open my eyes, I know immediately that I'm not alone. My body feels heavy and drained, stuck deep in the damned post-heat recovery phase. After the grueling hike through the woods and everything else that's happened since, it's demanding nothing but long, uninterrupted rest.

Slowly, I turn my head. Mauro is sitting in an armchair against the wall with one knee drawn up, his eyes fixed on his phone. He looks hot, wearing faded gray ripped jeans and a dark charcoal tank top. A few silver chains bracelets and black leather cords wrap around his wrist. Dark curls fall across his cheeks, his eyes focused on the screen. But the instant I move, his gaze lifts over the top of the screen and finds mine.

Even from where I'm sitting, I can tell how good he smells. Fresh and clean. Alphas and omegas have an exceptional sense of smell, so we're always aware of the hygiene of everyone around us. I can pick up even the faintest trace of sweat, but Mauro is impeccable. His body carries this unbelievably pristine scent. Mmm… why does my dick react to that so much?

Our eyes meet, and a strange thought crosses my mind. Has he been sitting here the whole time while I slept? I glance toward the window. It's already close to noon. Heat rushes into my cheeks, and I can only hope I wasn't drooling in my sleep. It would kill all the romanticism.

Mauro rises unhurriedly, his expression calm and serious. As he does, the hem of his tank top rides up a bit, revealing a strip of sun-kissed skin and a glimpse of his tempting abs. I also get a clear view of the impressive bulge in his jeans.

He bends down, picks up a large bundle wrapped in pale green muslin, and carries it over to the bed.

Then he lowers himself onto one knee and places the bundle in front of him, resting one hand on top of it in a gesture that leaves no doubt it's meant for me.

Of course I know what it is.

A nesting kit. A big one, luxurious, beautiful. It must have cost a fortune.

But we both know this kit means far more than that in ABO society. And this is the moment when I have to decide whether I keep following what’s pulling me toward him… or force myself to stop and give myself time.

And suddenly, two possible scenarios unfold in my mind.

If I tell him all the dirt from my past and he accepts it, then it opens up an unexpected path for us, one we could follow if it ever came to that.

But if I tell him everything and he decides it's too much, that he isn't interested in an omega carrying that kind of baggage, then at least I'll have my answer, and I can focus on continuing my search, pushing thoughts of him aside.

Simple, right?

I've always believed that before getting into a relationship, things should be laid out in the open, so there are no grievances or resentment later.

Whatever happens between us, I intend to tell him who I am and see how he reacts. His reaction will tell me a lot about the kind of person he really is.