I ignore it. “Just tell me where I’m going,” I say, taking a step back, trying to keep the fear out of my voice and giving myself enough vinegar to sound unaffected.
“It seems that you haven’t gone over the paperwork side yet. I think it’s a good idea to do that. I’ll be in the trailer at seven a.m. Be there. It’ll just be me and you, so we can go over all the protocols you’ll need to know.”
“Where’s Carrie?” I ask, unable to keep my voice completely steady. And the satisfied smile that plays across his lips is slimy.
“She has tomorrow off, along with most of the office staff.” He steps a little closer to me. I take another step back, and I bump into the back of the bleachers. How did I let him corner me?
“Can you move back?” I ask.
“Not if I don’t want to.” He leans in close enough that his breath brushes along my neck. I’m sure to anyone else, it just looks like he’s trying to tell me something over the roar of the crowd. Who’d ever expect Felton to be a predator?
I feel like I can’t breathe. I can’t make my heart settle down.
“See, the thing is, Willa, you owe me.” He hovers a finger just above my neck, tracing the air along the column of my throat—close enough to make my skin crawl, without actually touching me.
I look up into his eyes, and what I see there is chilling. Anger. Lust. Ownership. He really thinks I’m his, that somehow I cheated him, that I belong to his pack.
“We had a deal. A contract. Me and your father. I can do anything I want to you because technically, you already belong to me.”
I can’t stop the whimper that crawls out of my throat.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
The second voice brings the world rushing back to me—the sounds of the arena, the lights, the animals, the hustle and bustle. And I see Beau’s face as he roughly removes the hand that Mark had been about to move closer, to touch me.
“Back off, McCrae. This has nothing to do with you.”
“It sure as fuck does.”
“Care to tell me how? You’re interfering. Willa is under my direction.”
“Whatever that was, it had nothing to do with work.”
Before I can blink, Beau’s massive form is between Mark and me. I’m met with a wall of Alpha, his chest heaving, and I can feel the tension coiling through his body. His sweet bergamot scent laced with leather and salt swells around me, comforting me.
I can’t help myself—I lean into his damp form, seeking safety. He’s still in his riding chaps, vest, and helmet, but my Omega doesn’t care. I’m physically unable to stop myself from reaching for the security he radiates. I feel him tense when I press into him, even just a little.
His large hand, which could fit around my whole thigh, reaches back to press me firmly against him. And the sound at the contact, and the pressure of his hand, combined with the feeling of being rescued, is intoxicating. The swing of my emotions from dread to desire is giving me whiplash.
“It didn’t look like Miss James liked what was happening,” he grates out. “Your conversation is done. You should find someplace else to be.”
I don’t miss the Alpha command permeating his words, and by the flinch in Felton, he doesn’t either. His Alpha must know he’s no competition.
His face turns almost purple. His eyes are all venom as he looks past Beau and straight at me. “Fuck if I’ll let him have what’s mine.” And then he turns and leaves.
It’s right about then that the shaking starts. And I can’t stop it. I feel Beau take my hand and pull me somewhere more private.
“Easy, easy. You’re safe now. Look at me, Willa.”
I lift my head and drag in a deep, shaking breath.
He meets my eyes and pulls me into his arms. I’m swallowed up against his chest, and a low, steady sound begins to rumble through him—soothing, grounding, and sexy as hell all at once.
And I realize he’s purring for me.
I’ve never felt that before. God, does my Omega love it. She nestles, melts underneath it. I feel his chest rise and fall in deep inhalation, and with his exhale, he squeezes me a little tighter. His breath tickles my ear as he whispers soothing, sweet words into my hair.
My world narrows to that single moment of exhalation. The emotion of the last five minutes coalesces into a single beat of heat. A singular purpose invades me. I want him. Like an Omega wants a pack, an Alpha. It’s the most terrifying and potent feeling.
