“You’re cold,” he said, sounding amused. “You’re shaking.”
He trailed his fingers up the silk of my nightgown, over my hip again, and despite the prickling pain it left, the sensation went straight through to my core, causing me to pulse with need.
Fuck.
This was embarrassing.
How long had it been since I’d been properly taken care of?
I liked getting relief at least once or twice a week, choosing my bedmates when I had a clear head, because otherwise, I became overly responsive to any alpha’s touch. And Kaos wasn’t just any alpha; he was my scent match.
These alphas hadn’t wanted me earlier, but my omega was desperate to soothe them.
Kaos chuckled as my perfume rose in the air.
The light hit his feral grin, his teeth glinting in the dark. “You like?” he asked, twisting a strand of his hair in his fingers and holding it out to me like an offering.
I opened my mouth to say no, but a painful prickling sensation started before I could get the words out, cutting me off. When I tried again, the painful sensation struck as I was about to speak. It was like earlier, when I’d tried to claim my bedroom was my nest.
“Oh,” he said, his head tilting further to the side. “You’re trying to lie.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I hissed. “Of course I don’t like—” I broke off as the pain struck again, and my cheeks went hotter.
“You should enjoy it, Omega.” He withdrew his hand, cocking his head at me. “This is the closest you’ll ever get to me.”
“I can’t control my body’s response,” I managed to say, somehow both relieved and offended he wasn’t going further. I was his scent match, and he didn’t want me? “I don’t want to get close to you, so go fuck yourself.”
His eyes narrowed, and the fear took over, freezing my veins. He could literally do anything he wanted to me right now.
Instead, he chuckled and stepped back into the darkness, leaving me hot and burning with humiliation.
TWENTY-NINE
KAOS
I woke early.
The scent ofherwas everywhere in the room.
I remembered it from before—a heady, vibrant mix of roses and sweet vanilla—but it was so much more potent now. It woke up parts of my brain that had long since been dormant. Last night, I hadn’t been prepared for seeing her in the moonlight, silver illuminating the curves of her body, hair spread out over the pillow and long legs tangled in the sheets. I hadn’t intended to touch her then, but her pull had been too strong. Her beauty was a mockery, a reminder of what we could have had with someone else.
I slid out of bed carefully, intending to check on her.
My brain was clear this morning, the sunlight of my emotions unhampered by the usual thick fog I lived with. They were so bright and burned uncomfortably strong, but it was important that I pushed through it today. The shame was there, ever present, but I needed to be alert so I could deal with the Crimson Duchess.
I didn’t care about the commands that Finch had given her. She was Thaddeus’s daughter, and I didn’t trust her one inch. I had seen firsthand how she could be just as cruel as he was.
I left the room carefully, checking for an ambush, and walked down the corridor, keeping my footsteps light. Laurel was curled up where I’d left her on the couch, and as I watched, a black cat leapt up beside her. She lifted her head, her hair poofing around her in a tangled mess.
The cat started kneading her leg, a purr rumbling to life. “Mrow?” it said, butting its head against her face.
“Someone’s a bit pushy,” she said, her voice muted with the dregs of sleep as the scrawny fluffball settled on her lap.
My lip curled. If we were going to be stuck with her, I’d be sure to make the most of it. She could say goodbye to blissful moments like this.
I stepped into the room, my footsteps audible, and Laurel turned to look at me as the black cat fled. “Even cats can’t stand you,” I mused, watching the cat disappear under a chair.
“He’s got anxiety,” she said, arms wrapping around herself. I snorted, and she narrowed her eyes. “He’s a rescue. From an abusive home. He hid under my bed for a week when he got here. Andyou’reinvading his safe space.”
