“You are not going to another pack,” he snarls. I stare at him in disbelief.
“So what?” I say tiredly. “I’m just going to stay here? Live in the attic and be your little omega piece on the side while you parade Alicia around? Wait for the moments where you just can’t help those pesky alpha hormones and come and rub yourself all over me, get us both off and then walk out? What’s your endgame, Jax?”
I’m yelling by the time I reach the end of my impromptu little speech, and Jax looks understandably confused at my weirdly specific accusation.
“I don’t know,” he admits. Throwing my hands up, I stalk over and jab him in the chest.
“Well, you’d better figure it out fast, Jax. For all of us.”
Dismissing him, I turn back to my boxes, hoping he’ll leave so I can lick my wounds, and maybe scrounge up some spare clothes. A hand lands on my shoulder, softly squeezing.
“I’ll get you something to wear,” he says quietly. “I should’ve when you first arrived. Then we’re going shopping.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” I gripe.
But I really do want some clean clothes.
And some alone time with Jax… my heart leaps, a little pulse in my abdomen that tells me exactly how much my body likes that idea.Traitorous, filthy little omega hormones.
God, I wish I’d been born a beta. How easy would that be? No hormones, no heat to worry about, no fucking nesting instinct that claws at my skin and makes me drag hundreds of boxes from one room to the other.
No Bonding Trials.
And no Soul Bonded.
“Let’s go.” Jax interrupts my musings, splaying a large hand against my lower back and steering me out of the room. I squint as we head towards the stairs. “Where are we going?”
“My room.” When I freeze, he takes a rapid step back, lifting his hands. “Not for that. To get you new clothes.”
Relaxing slightly, I make my way up the winding staircase. “Somehow I can’t see your clothes fitting me.”
“You’re so small, you can probably wear one of my sweatshirts as a dress.”
I swat at him. “I am not small. I am perfectly formed.”
“Damn right.”
My mouth opens and closes again at his words, a flash of sadness that this isn’t just a normal Bonding process. We’re not getting to know each other, becoming more comfortable as we spend time in each other’s company. That’s not the end game here.
Alicia. He has Alicia. Doesn’t want you.
Jax leads me to a doorway on the first floor, the other side from my little attic paradise. “You okay? Lost you for a moment there.”
“Fine. What can I use?”
He frowns at my sharp tone but doesn’t say anything. I stop abruptly at the doorway to his bedroom.
I expected a mess, but everything is perfectly placed around the room. A walnut-coloured queen-sized bed sits in the middle, surrounded by pale cream walls. I steer my eyes away quickly, sucking in a breath as I take a step forward and getting a lung full of musky rainfall for my trouble.
Fuuuck, that’s good. Jax could bottle that shit.
But I’m distracted by the vast array of guitars lining his walls. There must be more than a dozen, every shade and type hanging perfectly. A cherry-coloured acoustic is propped up on a stand, and my fingers twitch.
I could really use a play.
Jax coughs. “Go ahead.”
He waves a lazy hand towards the wall, but his eyes are focused firmly on me, a light in those violet eyes that dares me to step forwards.
