Even as I denied it, my body disagreed. The bond hummed with warmth, with want, and I could feel my omega cataloguing every detail of that brief collision, the width of his shoulders beneath his oversized hoodie, the strength in his hands when he'd steadied me, the way his golden-brown eyes had gone wide with recognition before something else had flooded them. Something that looked like wonder.
I wanted to go back. I wanted to find him and bury my face in his neck and breathe him in until that sunshine-citrus smell was the only thing I could taste. The wanting terrified me more than anything else.
I don't know how long I sat there on the floor. Long enough for my legs to go numb. Long enough for the afternoon light slanting through my windows to shift from gold to orange to the deep purple of approaching dusk. Long enough for my phone to buzz seventeen times with messages I couldn't bring myself to read.
Eventually, I dragged myself to my feet, using the door handle for support. My reflection caught my eye in the small mirror I kept by the entryway, and I barely recognized myself.
My grey eyes, usually so carefully neutral, were wide and slightly wild, the silver tones more pronounced than usual. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath them, testament to the sleepless nights I'd been having. My pale skin was flushed pink across my cheekbones, and my hair was a disaster. The teal pieces that usually framed my face in careful, deliberate streaks were tangled with the black, and the whole mess looked like I'd been running my hands through it for hours.
I probably had been.
I looked terrible.
I looked like someone who was falling apart.
Because you are, my omega whispered, her voice almost gentle now. Almost sympathetic.You're falling apart, and he could put you back together. They all could. If you just let them?—
"Shut up," I hissed at my reflection. "Shut up."
I stumbled down the hallway toward my bathroom, stripping off my jacket as I went. The fabric still held his scent, sunshine and citrus, bright and warm and so achingly alive that it made my chest hurt. I wanted to bury my face in it and breathe deep.
I wanted to burn it and never think about that scent again.
I threw it in the corner of my bedroom and kept walking.
The bathroom light was harsh and unforgiving when I flicked it on. I gripped the edges of the sink, my knuckles going white, and forced myself to look, really look, at the mark that curved from just below my left ear, trailing down my neck and across my collarbone before disappearing beneath the collar of my shirt.
I pulled the fabric aside with trembling fingers.
Five flowers on a delicate branch. Four of them were still grey—soft and muted, waiting. The fourth flower from my ear, the one positioned right over the pulse point in my neck, was different now.
It was a golden amber color.
The color was beautiful. Deep and rich, like honey held up to sunlight, like autumn leaves just before they fell, like his eyes when they'd met mine. It seemed to glow against my pale skin, warm where the grey flowers were cool, alive where they were dormant.
I hated it.
I hated how beautiful it was. I hated how right it felt, nestled there among the others like it belonged. I hated the way my omega preened at the sight of it, practically purring with satisfaction.
Our alpha, that inner voice crooned.Our first alpha. Look how pretty our bond is. He gave us that. He'll give us more pretty things if we let him. He'll give us everything.
"He's not ours," I said through gritted teeth. "He's not anything." Even as I denied it, my fingers drifted up to touch the golden flower. The skin there was sensitive now, almost tender, and the lightest brush of my fingertips sent a shiver racing down my spine. The bond pulsed in response, warm, wanting, reaching toward something I refused to give it.
My mother's bond had been beautiful once too. Before she'd destroyed it. I jerked my hand away from my mark and gripped the sink again, my reflection staring back at me with haunted grey eyes.
My mother had broken one bond.
One.
It had killed her slowly over twelve years, draining her energy, weakening her immune system, leaving her fragile and prone to illness until finally her body just gave up.
I had five flowers on my mark. Five potential bonds. If my mother nearly died breaking one, what would happen to me if I had to break five?
You don't have to break them, my omega whispered.You could complete them instead. Let them claim us. Let them love us. It doesn't have to be like it was for her?—
"I can't." The words came out broken. "I can't let them consume me. I can't end up like her."
I pushed away from the sink and caught another whiff of something as I moved. I froze.
