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Scarlet
“Fuck!” I shout and stick my aching thumb in my mouth. Tears gather in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Ever since I’d smelled oranges, everything has become just ten times harder. It’s like my brain is only working at half speed.
I’m at war with my entire existence. Every part of me wants to claim that omega. Needs to claim him.
But I won’t. I’m no homewrecker. I don’t destroy packs. Despite what my father believes.
I know I should just hire someone, but I don’t want anyone in my space. I don’t want anyone near me, right now. My control is almost shattered. He haunts my imagination, my dreams. I wonder about his name, his favourite food, what he likes and dislikes. I wonder how he tastes and if his alphas treat him well.
I want to say I’m not hiding, but I am. I’ve got my proverbial tail between my legs, my cottage in the woods in the middle of nowhere, and I am hiding. There’s only a twinge of shame. Most of everything else is self-preservation.
I sit back on my heels and stare at the rogue nail that just will not be pummelled into the wood panel. I pick up the hammer and hit it again. The nail bends.
And that snaps my control. I tilt my head back and let out a scream of pure frustration.
“Do you need a hand?”
I jerk around, my knee catching on the now bent nail and ripping through the jean material and skin. I hiss and stand up. Can this day get worse?
I remember the voice and look up. Wow, I suck in a startled breath, otherwise frozen in place. He’s stunning. Tall with wide shoulders and a shock of auburn hair that hangs in a shaggy mop to his jaw. He’s also an alpha. Some can hide it, but not this one, every line of the way he holds himself, that confident self-assurance, that dominance screams Alpha.
“I- no. I’ve got this.” I say and look down at the nail. “It's one nail. It will not beat me.” I mutter.
He laughs. The deep, husky sound goes straight to that burning arousal I haven’t been able to extinguish and turns it back into an inferno. He moves closer, his hands up, palms out, and peers around me to peer at the nail.
“Let me fix this, as welcome.” Rich, deep tones twine around me and remind me of those hazy dreams I half remember that leave me waking, feeling like I’ve lost something priceless. I hate those dreams. At least now I’ll have a face to put to it.
I protest, but he picks up my hammer, hits it twice, spins the thing like he’s worked with tools all his life, pulls the nail out, and has another in before I can even take three breaths. So simple, so quick, so fucking unbearably hot.
“Thanks.” I say grudgingly and step back as he advances.
“You’re most welcome.” He moves closer with his hand out, and I realise I've danced several steps backwards to give him room to work and, er, escape. His hand is large, tanned with long fingers that make me want to explore every surface. Reality crashes, and I’m aghast at my thoughts. I don’t look at people’s hands nor want to inspect them. And I don’t run from men, ever.
Has the fresh air addled my brain already?
“My name’s Jet Knight.”
“Jet. I’m Scarlet.” Why is his name so damn sexy?
He tilts his head to the side and smiles.
“What?” I snap self-consciously.
“Scarlet suits you.”
I shake my head, my hair tumbling around me. I scrap the thick black mane into a ponytail and put a band around it. Only then do I realise he’s still holding out his hand. I can’t avoid it. I reach out, taking his hand firmly and freeze. Pine. It twists around me, reminding me of the forests after a good rain. I don’t realise I’ve closed my eyes until a small growl escapes him.
“Alpha.” He says with a dangerous growl that hits me low, turning my whole body alive with liquid heat. Intoxicating. This isn’t how I responded to the omega. That was lightning. This is the warmth of the sun.
I open my eyes, and his gaze focuses on me, predatory, gleaming with hunger. Recognisable because I see it in my mirror. I own that look. But then I smell oranges and step back quickly, stumbling in an effort to get away. Guilt and shame war within me. Lusting after another pack’s alpha is a big no-no. Lusting over their omega is the only offense worse.
“Uh, you must belong to the pack who live in the manor.” I say quickly to stop his approach.
It works. He stops as if he’d forgotten for a second. His brows pull down, and he tugs his lower lip with his teeth. I find myself itching to go and stop him by putting my lip there instead.
“Yeah, we are Pack Knight. We moved up here a few years ago.”
