Unused to compliments, I stand awkwardly, but my cheeks heat in pleasure from his praise.
“Thanks,” I mumble, suddenly even more aware that we’re standing very close together. Alone. In the dark.
Ren clears his throat. “I’m taking one of Grub’s classes as an elective this semester. I major in Literature, but I’ve always been interested in botany too.”
Maybe I’m being stereotypical, but I always thought that alphas were hypermasculine and aggressive by nature, but he seems to be nothing like that.
His scent makes me want to curl up next to him in a giant armchair and read. He smells like writing on a rainy afternoon with fresh ink on thick parchment paper, combined with the warmth of Earl Grey tea wrapped in a lavender mist. And there’s something else hiding under the surface too… The embers of a fire, a hint of smokiness.
Maybe it’s the flowers, or maybe it’s his scent, but a tight knot in my stomach lurches hard, causing me to wince. Then it happens again, spinning me into a panic.
No, not now. I’ve never missed a dose of my suppressants since my first and only heat. It can’t be…
Despite my inner pleas, my body has its own ideas. The unmistakable prickling under my skin that comes before a heat dances up my arms and across my chest. Even though it’s been years, I recognize the distinct sensation instantly. My breathing quickens, heightening all my senses. All I want to do is launch myself into this random alpha’s arms and ask him to read to me dirty stories in his whispery voice until?—
“Are you okay?” He squares his shoulders, his pianist’s fingers grasping his book tighter. Have hands always been sohot? How would his fingers feel against my skin? “Is that a putri flower you’re holding? You’re crushing…”
I can barely hear what he’s saying. A warmth rushes from my belly down into my core, then a gush of slick soaks my scent-blocking panties.
This can’t be happening! Not now!
My hand curls around the flowerhead, crushing the delicate petals. The sharp odor of the flower is released, temporarily blotting out the alpha’s scent. However, even the toxic fumes isn’t strong enough to expel him from my imagination entirely as my mind still wonders what it would be like to undress him under the moonlight. Nope! I squeeze the flower like I’m trying to juice a lemon. My nostrils are on fire, but it pulls me to my senses long enough to realize I have to go.
“I have to l-l-eave.” I almost stumble over a root as I stagger away.
“Wait!” Ren calls after me, but it’s too late.
I’m already running. I race out of the greenhouse, not even stopping by Professor Grub to excuse myself.
I have to get back to Stella House!
SIX
Faye
I clutch the crushed petals as I run, hoping that its horrible odor will be enough to repel any alphas and mask my perfume as I cross campus. Thankfully, it’s pretty quiet, and I manage to snag a lone golf cart. I’ve never driven one before, but I put my foot on the gas and speed back to Omega Village, hoping for the best.
Margie waves me straight through the barrier without question, shouting, “Faye! You should know?—”
I don’t have time to stop to chat. I swerve unsteadily, almost hitting her watch post before hurtling away at full pelt. I’ll apologize later, but right now, I’m more conscious about how my pair of scent-blocker panties are holding up under the flood of slick.
What the hell is wrong with me? Did a plant in the greenhouse trigger some kind of reaction, or am I just so unused to being around alphas that their presence alone has such a dramatic effect on me? I thought I’d prepared for this. I’m well read and know how everything works … theoretically. But nothing could have prepared me for how it really feels to be going into heat in the presence of an alpha, the draw and overwhelming pull toward them that makes me want to roll over and present myself with one panty-melting glance.
I never understood how people accidentally bonded before. However, after my recent encounters with two alphas—Ren and my sulky savior—I can see how it’s possible. I don’t dare to even think about what could’ve happened if I’d stayed in the greenhouse.
I’d call Gram, but even though we’re close, I draw the line at calling her for advice after running out of my first class because of this. Then I remember the Stella Girls.
I slam on the brakes outside the house and shoot a quick text to the group chat:
ME
Help! I think I’m going into heat. What should I do?
SABS
We’re on our way! We’re in Forestville now, but we’ll be there ASAP.
Their classes don’t start officially until next week as its orientation week for first years. The girls were spending their day shopping for costumes for a party we’re supposed to be attending later in the week.
