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Thank God I’m not an Omega, because he would scent just how affected I am by him, regardless of how strange he is.
Together, we open the door, my face still burning.
But that embarrassment fades away as soon as I see where I’m staying.
This room wasn’t even on their website.
I take a step inside and my breath catches.
Unlike the rest of the house, the walls are dark wood, and the ceiling has a high cream arch, making the space look massive. A dark wood canopy bed sits on the left side, with an abundance of light champagne pillows and curtains. There’s a reading nook to the side of the stone fireplace, and a chandelier—acrystal chandelier—hangs from the ceiling. The nightstands match the bed, and each one has an antique lamp.
This is mine for the next week.
Tears fill my eyes.
It doesn’t even bother me that Wilson immediately makes himself comfortable, curling up onto the floral loveseat that sits in front of the fireplace.
“Welcome to your room,” the Alpha says softly behind me.
“This is incredible,” I breathe, my embarrassment from before all but forgotten. I hurry to the reading nook and pull open the heavy cream curtains, marveling at my view.
In the night, the gardens are only lit up by small lights, but a gasp still escapes my lips.
I’m in a fairytale.
I can only see so far out, but a stone path surrounded by flowers and trees leads to a small gazebo, then extends out into the woods.
There’s no way I have been here before and somehow hated it.
He’sa goddamn liar.
I would never want to leave this place!
When I finally turn around, the Alpha is staring at me, his expression blank. He’s placed my suitcase next to the bed, and now he stands in the room, his gaze intense.
“Do you like it?” he asks quietly, and I nod.
“How could I not?” I reply. “It’s lovely.”
He nods, thenlaughs.
It’s merely a chuckle, but it’s devoid of any amusement.
It’s cold and crazed, and I lean backwards into the reading nook, the back of my knees pushing against the soft cushion.
He shakes his head and the corner of his lip curls up. “Of course you would like it.” His voice is low, and fear spikes in my chest.
This is a bad dream, I chide.This is a night terror.
Maybe I dreamt this whole thing up.
Maybe I’m not really here.
“Breakfast is at nine sharp. Do you have any otherallergieswe should know about, Princess?”
What?
The pet name is so out of place that my head swims. But, like before, it makes my heart flutter, and I push those feelings aside.
