He swallows audibly. Then he takes a shaky breath. “I… I like the way you smell. I like the feel of your hands on me. I like being close to you, it feels good. And when you put your arms around me it feels like everything is okay, like I’m safe.”
For a long moment we just stare at one another. Our breaths are the only sound in the room and they sound heavy and loud. My thoughts are all jumbled and my chest hurts.
“Fuck, Fitz,” I say out loud and I can hear all my pain in my voice.
Fitz winces and drops my gaze. He wanted hugs. He needed to be held. He is a touch-starved omega who never got to grow up sleeping in a puppy pile. Instead, he grew up all alone, abused and beaten by cruel hunters. Of course he is craving touch. Simple kindness, warmth, connection. The feeling of safety that only an alpha can give. And I’ve only given him sex, so that is all he thinks there is.
It’s too awful for words. My heart is breaking. For him. For me. For what I have done to him. How can he ever forgive me for this? How can I ever forgive myself? I’m the world’s biggest asshole. I’m an alpha, I’m supposed to take care of betas and omegas, not take advantage of them.
Something drips down onto him. It is my tears. He stares at me in horror, his mouth falling open in dismay.
“I’ll snuggle you all you need Fitz. All night, every night. You don’t need to sleep with me anymore.”
He blinks. “You… you don’t want to have sex with me anymore?”
I shake my head. “I just want to hold you.” Forever, and try to make amends for every wrong thing I’ve ever done to you. But I don’t say that last part.
Suddenly he is gone and my door is slamming shut. His clothes are abandoned on my floor. Should I go after him? With a groan, I flop down on my bed. I’ve done him enough harm. I should leave him the fuck alone. The last thing he needs is me.
I hated him because he was raised in captivity. I wasn’t kind or the least bit understanding. He needed someone softer, more nurturing. He needed love and acceptance. Guidance. Help. Someone to be kind to him. Not a hateful, horny bastard.
I need to sort myself out and become a better person. One that he deserves. Once I’ve done that, then I can approach him and beg for his forgiveness.
Until then, I’m going to stay away from Fitz. If I can.
Chapter twenty-five
Ihaven’tseenFitzall day. Not once. Not even one brief glimpse of him ducking quickly out of sight. He is just… not there. There is no trace of his scent. It’s disconcerting. Unsettling. I hadn’t realized how much I have gotten used to his presence. Now I keep whipping my head around desperately looking for him, and probably looking like a madman.
Every time I see an empty space where I think he should be, I feel bereft. Lonely. And I’m also getting a little concerned. The pack house and grounds aren’t that large. Even if he is avoiding me, surely I should have glimpsed him going about his business?
I should go check on him. Yes, I’ll do that. Check in on him. That’s all I’m doing. I’m being responsible. It’s not that I can’t stick to my vow to leave him alone. I’m not that weak. I sigh heavily, Okay, maybe I am. Why I’m I trying to kid myself? I know damn well I’m an idiot.
I jog up to his room. Now that I’ve decided to see him, I’m suddenly like a kid on Christmas morning, frantically eager to unwrap his presents. Not that I’m going to be unwrapping Fitz. I’m just going to make sure he is okay. I can’t turn into a better person in just one day and I promised myself I’d leave him alone until I was.
As I reach his door, my heart sinks. His scent is faint and there is no noise coming from within. He is not here. Still, foolishly I knock. Nothing. For some stupid reason, I open the door. The single bed is neatly made with military precision, but it’s not that which catches my eye. It’s the walls. I remember telling him about the spare paint, I’d been thinking of a change of color from the drab beige, not this, whatever it’s called. Picture? A mural? Is that what a painted picture on a wall is called? I think so. Whatever it is, it’s stunningly beautiful. An intricate forest. Trees, plants, grass. Even small insects. A full moon shines through the branches and a wolf stands proudly in a clearing.
As I stare at it, taking it all in, I realize that it doesn’t fit with what I thought I knew about Fitz. My assumptions have been all wrong. Fitz is a true child of the moon after all. His love of the wild is clear in every brush stroke. My gaze returns to the magnificent wolf.
Wait. Is that me? I step closer and trace the wolf with my fingers. It does look a lot like my wolf form. Where the hell did Fitz learn to paint like this? If this is just his raw, untaught talent, imagine what he will be capable of once we get him into art school. He has to go to art school. He probably doesn’t even know such things exist. I have to tell him and then find out where the nearest one is.
But where is he? I turn around. His one storage box is clear plastic, and it’s empty. My heart starts to thud. I know he has belongings now. Several sets of clothes at least, and Sarah has given him stuff. I haven’t. I haven’t given him a single thing. Except for my cock.
My throat is really tight. He can’t have gone. My wards would have alerted me if anyone passed through them. Actually, I never changed them. They are still set to not let him through at all. So he has to be on pack territory. It won’t be too hard to find him.
Unless… I’m running to my room before I’ve finished that thought. In all his stalking of me, he has watched me maintain the wards countless times. He is a clever little shit. But surely he is not that clever? Only the brightest person would be able to figure it out from just observing. Especially if they didn’t have any magic, which Fitz does not.
If he has worked out how to do it, it’s touching that he has gone to all that effort to work out an escape plan that doesn’t require my death. A strange cackle echoes around me. Shit, it’s my own. I’m losing the plot. I really am, especially if I think not being murdered is romantic.
I skid to a halt in front of my glass-fronted cabinet. The empty space where my large quartz crystal should be, glares at me mockingly. I gape in astonishment. Fitz has figured out how to disable my wards. Fitz has left. My heart thuds and my head spins. I’m running to Callum’s workshop. We have to find Fitz, we have to. Nothing is more important. He can’t be out there all alone.
I barge into the workshop.
“Fitz disabled my wards and has run away!”
Callum puts the engine part down and frowns at me. “What did you do?”
“What?” I gasp in shock.
