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Does he know? How could he? I hide my scent so well. There are a half dozen air purifiers in my room—the only place I allow my scent and only in the moments between showering and applying more descenting lotion.
“I said that means you’re my stepsister now.” His forehead crinkles. “What did you think I said?”
The invisible wound on my chest cuts a little deeper. I shake my head. “Nothing,” I whisper, pushing away from the wall. I need water or something. Any excuse to get away from him.
“Quinny.” Dylan drops his arm around my shoulder. It’s strong. Stronger than it should be for someone our age. Dylan and I are both sixteen, but he’s already spent years sparring at the local MMA club with his brothers. “Are you running away from me?” He brushes his lips over my ear.
Gooseflesh chases the shiver racing down my spine. “Stop it, Dylan.”
He immediately steps away. “I’m just fucking with you. Brady and Austin stole a bottle of champagne, and they’re waiting on the balcony. I was coming to get you.”
He’s inviting me? They never invite me to do things.
I stop walking and turn to face him. Dylan’s eyes rove over my body again, almost as though he can’t control himself. I try not to think about what it might mean. He’s a budding alpha. I’m a budding omega.
We’re not really related.
The answer is easy. As much as I want to go drink with them, to belong, to be surrounded by them and those intoxicating scents, I can’t. This is my mom’s day and it has to be perfect. Nothing can ruin it.
After what happened with my dads and her subsequent stint with deep depression, I didn’t expect her to open up her heart to another set of alphas, but my stepdads lost their scent match in a tragic accident. There’s no threat of them leaving her for their destined love. They’re safe. My stepdads treat her like a princess, and for that, I love them.
She deserves the world.
She deserves a perfect night.
She deserves a daughter who isn’t pining after her stepbrothers.
I cross my arms over my chest. “You guys aren’t old enough to drink.” Maybe it’s a lame excuse, but it’s plausible enough that I won’t seem like I’m being rude.
His lips twitch. “And?”
“I’m not getting in trouble with you.” I shake my head and step away. “Besides, they’re about to give their speeches.”
A flash of something dark cuts across his face, but it’s there and gone in the next instant. “You really want to listen to them profess their love for one another?”
Not really, but I can’t go with him. Dylan is potent alone, but all three alpha brothers together might be my undoing. Biology doesn’t understand how blended families work, and I have to be strong. No matter how good they smell, no matter how much my brain and body tell me they’re mine...they can’t be.
I’ve seen how scent matches can rip families apart. It’s why I’ve religiously slathered my skin in scent-suppressing lotion since my dads left. Besides, I’m terrified Mom will leave me too if she ever finds out. My armor—the scent blockers—is the only reason my secret is safe. My body has only just begun producing all the omega pheromones, but they’ll get stronger and stronger until I settle down with a pack and mate.
Which brings me to my problem.
The stronger an omega is pulled to an pack’s aroma, the better the pairing and likelihood of reproduction. The same can be said for packs with omegas. And when they’re an exact match—scents that blend and complement and make you want to bathe in a tub full of that very perfume—reproduction is almost certain. The whole process is so natural, so organically driven by desire and need that it’s hard not to swoon at the thought of finding a scent match.
But my pack will never,can never, be my stepbrothers.
I suspect my lack of scent is the only reason shit hasn’t hit the fan. If the alphas knew... Well, it doesn’t matter what might happen, because they’ll never know. It’s safer this way. This way, no one gets hurt. If I ignore these silly feelings, they’ll eventually go away, right? Keeping my distance can’t hurt, either.
When I fail to reply, he asks, “You sure you don’t want to come?”
“I really appreciate the invitation, and any other night, I’d say yes, but I love my mom and your dads have been amazing. I can’t disappear at their celebration.” I wring my hands together to hide the fact that they’re trembling and force a smile. “Have fun without me.” The first step away from him is like traversing through mud. My ankles are unsteady for the second, and my chest constricts on the third. But by the fourth, it’s a little easier.
I know the second he leaves the room. The weight on my chest abates and I suck in a sharp breath, lungs trembling and shoulders relaxing.
Two years. I have to survive two years in a house with him. It’s not just him I have to worry about, though. Brady and Austin might have moved out to share a luxury condo nearby, but they never leave Dylan alone for long.
Tucking myself in a corner, I pinch my eyes shut and pray for a mercy killing.
It never comes.
