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I memorized the code, and the lazy trainers haven’t changed it in years.
“Take whatever you want.” I help myself to handguns and magazines until I’m armed for a fucking siege.
Orion picks through the weapon racks. “We won’t get in trouble?”
“Worth it.” I feel so much better knowing I won’t have to run again. Now all I need is an ice pack and a full night of REM sleep.
I’m leading us back to the bungalows when it clicks that it’s too late to register Orion. He’ll have to sleep over at my place.
That should go well.
I’m still hoping for that territorial twinge to kick in, needling me to go claws-out against any omega in my territory.
The rules never apply to Orion.
I let him in the bungalow with zero problems.
Zero problems, except for the way his scent’s going to soak every inch of fabric and drive me to hump the pillows.
“You can have the couch.” I hurry to grab sheets. The linen closet has ten spare sets.
I load a pile so high I can’t see where I’m going, but before I can get back, Orion snatches the bundle. “Don’t. You’re hurt.”
I rub my palms against my bodice, itching to get out of the torn-up costume and away from the attentive Orion who makes me question everything. “Need anything else before I crash?”
He dumps the linens on the coffee table, then clutches his throat with shaky fingers. “Stay with me?”
My heart gives a pathetic squeeze.
Bite scars still loop his neck in a silver collar, but they’ll fade as the mystical mating magic dissolves and shows his freedom on his skin.
I cannot give into his fallen prince vibes, but the pull is real.
So, I panic, and my mouth goes for the nuclear option that must’ve been stewing in my subconscious all along. “You didn’t stay with me.”
The distant, drifty quality he’s had since losing his anchor snaps with that slap in the face. His blue eyes focus on me and only me, and suddenly I’m the one adrift.
“Lilah.” He takes a step forward.
I step back.
Forward, back, forward, back, until my legs bump the couch, and I fall into the seat.
Orion drops to his knees.
“I’m sorry about your heat.” He crawls until I have to spread my legs to make room, my thighs parting like we’re opening the gates to his very own castle. I breathe so high and shallow, his words sound like they’re drifting down from a cloud. “I’m so, so sorry. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Everything the guys said to you. Fuck. I know you hate me, but I hate myself more.”
Gripping the couch cushion, he kneels between my wide-spread thighs. We don’t touch, but his body heat soaks through my skin and my suddenly scratchy throat begs for a sip of apple cider.
My fingers twitch.
His hair’s too long, that stupid blond piece hanging over his forehead.
I want to push it back. Cup his cheek.
But if I touch him, I’ll forgive him.
And if I forgive Orion, I’ll bobsled right down the slippery slope toward forgiving them.
