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The hairs rise on the back of my neck.

I break out of the shade of the oak, hunting the Omega to the door, before I push through into the hall.

Adrenaline thunders through me. This is pure instinct now.

I stand listening to the Omega’s footsteps, as she runs up the stairs.

Then there is a creak of floorboards above my head.

My senses are painfully amplified.

I prowl down the corridor and into the vast foyer. I growl, diving up the grand stairs. The Omega’s scent mingles here with pecan and beeswax.

A laugh.

I stop, cocking my head.

She wants me to chase her.

To catch her.

She is daring me.

My last restraint snaps.

I prowl further up the stairs. My chest is heaving.

My knot throbs. My balls swing heavy and aching between my legs.

I raise my head and sniff.

My eyes gleam.

Then a door slams.

I stalk down the corridor toward the sound, rumbling a growl. I rest my hand on the door, behind which I can hear frantic movement.

My Omega knows that I am coming, and that is what makes this intoxicating.

She wants me to hunt and chase her.

She wants me to catch her.

I kick open the door, and the Omega squeals.

Except, the Omega is still laughing and she’s chosen to scramble to the back of the giant iron framed bed that stands in the center of the room. The bed is covered in nothing but black, silk sheets.

My eyes darken.

The Omega’s lips quirk up as I prowl toward her.

My chest puffs up with pride.

Does she know that she’s chosen my lair? The room that I have transformed into a nest?

Does she reckon this room means safety?

Mistake.