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Which means my concealer might not be doing a good enough job of concealing the bruise from Lawrence’s fist two nights ago. It wouldn’t be a problem if anyone other than Cian Barnes was the one doing the observing.
“Is that right, little omega?” Cian says slowly, his khaki-green eyes still glued to my right jaw.
Little omega? Is that like a nickname they give all omegas? Or just me?
I’d ask if I weren’t so desperate for them to leave.
I doubt anyone in the city hasn’t heard about the alpha with the quiet voice, serious disposition, dark auburn hair, and eyes that don’t miss a thing.
Did he see me slip out of the party and follow? Is that how he knew I was here?
Unlike Rune, Cian skipped out on a tie and suit jacket, settling on black pants and a white shirt unbuttoned to his elbows. A gold Rolex briefly captures my attention.
With his chiseled cheekbones, dimpled chin, and a faint scar bracketing his left eyebrow, he has his favorites among the omegas at the party tonight.
And his scent? Citrus, pumpkin, and sweet licorice tempt me to step closer for a deeper inhalation. He doesn’t smell safe, but there’s something refreshingly comforting about his scent. Like the cool side of the pillow on a sticky, sweltering hot summer’s night.
But he’s an alpha, so I stay right where I am, keeping my hands by my side instead of covering the bruise on my jaw.
A bruise courtesy of Lawrence. He’d been out drinking one night with his friends. I’d have tried to escape then if he weren’t in the habit of increasing security when he’s away. It’s only during parties where guests are free to wander the grounds that he dials back on the security. He came back wasted and woke me up wanting sex. I wanted to sleep. His fist convinced me to stop complaining and do what he wanted.
“That’s right,” I tell Cian while silently screaming at him to just goaway.
Another long stretch of silence winds around us.
This is a problem. These alphas are showing no sign of going anywhere, and I need them to go.
“If there’s nothing else…” I prompt, wanting to know why the hell they’re not getting the message.
“You look like you might need a boost.” The alpha with tousled, russet brown hair that looks like he raked a hand through it not long ago, glances at the hedge behind me.
He peers down at me through half-lidded steel-gray eyes, crossing his arms over his powerful chest.
Kylian Sutton. The playboy alpha who likes to flirt with beautiful betas.
He flashes me a wicked smile that I know—don’t ask me how, but I justknow—has convinced countless women out of their panties and into his bed. He’s handsome in his perfect white shirt, black coat, tie, and dress pants, and he knows it. When he catches me looking at him far longer than I should, he winks.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I drag my eyes from his as I try to ignore his spiced whiskey, cedar, and bergamot scent, rich, decadent, and probably addictive.
Rune smells sugar sweet, Cian like comfort, but Kylian smells like the fantasies you have in the dark night that have you reaching for your vibrator.
They saw me try to climb the hedges and fail. Repeatedly. His eyes crinkle with amusement, calling me a liar. I pretend not to see it.
In the distance, a male voice rises and panic dances up my throat.
That sounded like Lawrence. He must have dressed, come downstairs, and found me gone.
Or maybe the servant came back with my water and went to tell him I was missing.
My palms are clammy, and it’s a fight to keep my breathing steady. My window to escape is closing, and these three alphas still aren’t moving.
“You're missing the party,” I tell them in the most subtleplease fuck off now, you’re in the waytone I can manage without outright telling them to just fuckinggo.
Rune grins down at me from his towering six-foot-four height. “It’s more fun here than back there.”
“Nothing is happening here,” I tell him.
“Now I wouldn’t say that.” Cian, who I don’t think has stopped looking at my jaw, cocks his head.
