“Nia, just listen to my voice. Whenever you are ready I will be right there. But until then, I’ll just talk to you, sweetheart.”
“I can’t do this.” The words aren’t meant for him. They are a reminder to myself. To a promise I made.
“Yes, you can. You are brave for coming here, for doing what you must to carry on. Grief is a heavy weight, but it is easier to carry with help. Letmehelp you. Let me distract you.”
Taking his offer of a distraction, I scrunch my eyes tightly, willing the tears to cease. “What do you do for a living?” I’m not sure where the question comes from, but he chuckles at it.
“I’m a farmer.”
Coming back to the present, I stare up at the intimidating house. The alpha’s words circle around full force. He did say he was a farmer, it makes sense that he lives in the middle of nowhere on what I now recognize as afarm.
Without any further hesitation, I exit the car and make my way up the path to the front door. A gust of wind catches and a shiver wracks through me. The sky darkens quickly as I continue towards the front of the house, but it’s not from the setting sun.
Please don’t rain.
I didn’t bring my rain jacket or an umbrella or really anything to deal with the toxic relationship that is Florida weather. But before I can put any more thought into it, the front door of the house whips open.
The man in the doorway, with his long blond hair, pulls all of my attention. His tall lean frame takes up the entire space as he opens the door wider. There are wrinkles around his azure eyes that speak to his age, but it’s his scent that creeps to me. That causes my heart to beat into my ears, my mouth to open, my throat to dry.
It is immediate the way my body reacts to him. To the sandalwood and…grapefruit? The two scents amalgamate in an intoxicating manner.
He is an alpha, there is no doubt of that.
The man lifts his lips in amusement at my obvious reaction, but then he sees the mark on my neck and his eyes narrow in confusion. “Can I help you?” There is an edge to his tone.
Before my brain can cooperate or get into gear, the sky opens up above me, and the small covered porch I’m on does nothing to save me from the cold and wet.
“Fuck, get inside.” The strange man tugs me into his house.
There is a flash of concern that rolls through my belly, but I am immediately met by a clash of scents and smells.
One of them I recognize.
Spearmint and lime.
Sharp.
He’s here. My alpha is here.
seven
Xenia
My head whips around on a pivot, examining the space. Searching desperately for a man I won’t recognize. I never saw him during our encounter, but on the very last day, when he left me in my nest, his scent crept through. It had hit me in the dome, a thousand volts of electricity. The crisp lime and spicy spearmint.
My toes curl in my boots as I continue perusing the space. We are in a large living area that is filled with couches that are begging me to fall into them. Every area appears to be designed for an omega. The soft colors, the plush rug, the abundance of pillows.
Except I don’t smell one.
“Sit.” There is a slight bark to the word, but not enough to concern me.
This alpha is concerned; it is in his nature. He is simply attempting to provide. Even if it is not his job to do so.
Settling down on the closest couch, I find it even more comfortable than I imagined and I melt back into the cushions, my frayed emotions knotting up just a bit at the sensation.
Once a few beats have passed, he clears his throat, taking up the seat across from me. He crosses his arms over his chest.
“Where is your pack? And why are you here?” He gets right to the point.
