Is that why we're hiding in this small town? So we can experience something resembling normalcy? So we don't have to face the scrutiny and judgment of the city, where everyone knows Julian's reputation and everyone whispers about why he still hasn't bonded?
I don't know how Julian handles it—the constant pressure, the unspoken criticism. In the city, an Alpha without an omega isn't just single. He's suspect. His business associates question his stability. His social standing suffers. Eventually, if he doesn't have a bonded omega on his arm, it starts affecting his ability to work. To network. To exist in the spaces he's built his entire career around.
I've watched it happen. Watched potential partners back out of deals because Julian wasn't "stable enough." Watched society events turn cold the moment it became clear he was attending alone. Watched him pretend it didn't bother him while something in his eyes went a little more distant each time.
It's only a matter of time before Julian can't ignore it anymore. Before the absence of an omega costs him everything he's worked for.
I dared to wonder, watching this omega sit alone at her table through the entire mixer, if she could be a potential for us. If the universe was finally throwing us a bone in the form of a stunning, scent-perfect, slightly terrifying woman who clearly had no interest in any of the Alphas circling the room.
Two and a half hours I watched her. Two and a half hours of observing her project such powerful "don't approach me" energy that not a single pack dared try. She sat in her corner of cold elegance, ate her dinner like she was reviewing it for a magazine, and radiated the unmistakable aura of someone who was here under duress and counting the minutes until escape.
I watched the other Alphas watch her. Watched them hover at the edges of her orbit, drawn in by that incredible scent and that magnetic presence, only to retreat before they got close enough to actually introduce themselves. A pair of packmates made it three tables away before losing their nerve. A silver-haired Alpha in an expensive suit circled her section twice, clearly working up the courage, before ultimately veering off toward easier prey.
Cowards. All of them. Intimidated by a woman who had the audacity to sit alone and not smile invitingly at anyone who passed.
But that wasn't entirely fair. She wasn't just projecting disinterest—she was radiating a very specific kind of energy. The kind that saysI am not here for you. I am not available. I will cut you if you waste my time.Most Alphas, for all their bravado, don't actually want to be rejected. They want easy conquests. Guaranteed outcomes. They want omegas who flutter and blush and make them feel like gods.
This omega would make them work for every inch of ground. Would challenge and question and probably verbally eviscerate anyone who approached with anything less than genuine respect.
And that made me want her more, which is probably concerning.
I'd texted Julian halfway through the dinner service. Just a quick update:Target acquired. Currently eating scallops like she's personally offended by their existence. No approach attempts. Will continue observation.
His response had been typical Julian:Details on appearance. Any visible security? What's she wearing?
I'd rolled my eyes and typed back:Black dress. Expensive. Open back. Butterfly tattoo. She looks like she could model. No visible security but she clearly doesn't need it—every Alpha here is too scared to approach.
The typing bubbles had appeared and disappeared three times before Julian finally responded:Good. Keep watching. Let me know if anything changes.
He knows something about her. Something he's not telling me. The question is whether it's related to the bounty those Alphas mentioned, or something else entirely.
And not a single Alpha was worthy of her. They all knew it. One look and you could tell she was here to stand on business, nothing more. Probably forced by those government participation requirements that even small towns like Oakridge enforce.
But none of them had the guts to try.
Except me. If I wasn't supposed to be undercover.
Which is probably why I followed her when she got up. Something in my chest—something primal and possessive and completely irrational—told me that if I let her leave this venue completely, I'd lose her. That she'd walk out into the night anddisappear, and I'd spend the rest of my life wondering what might have been.
Dramatic? Maybe. But I learned a long time ago to trust my instincts. They've saved my life more times than I can count.
And then I heard them. The two Alphas in the hallway, voices low but not low enough, discussing their target. Discussingher. Something about a bounty. Something about extracting her since she was alone.
Well. They were about to find out she wasn't alone.
They were about to find out she wasmine.
The bathroom door opens behind us, and the spell shatters.
I don't break the kiss immediately—part of the act, I tell myself, even though we both know I'm just reluctant to stop—but the cleared throat from the doorway is impossible to ignore. Slowly, deliberately, I pull back just enough to see her face.
She's flushed. Beautifully, devastatingly flushed. Pink spreading across her cheekbones and down her throat, disappearing into the neckline of that sinful dress. Her lips are swollen from my attention, slightly parted, and when she notices the way I'm looking at her—like I want to devour her all over again—the blush deepens to a proper red.
I can't stop myself from licking my lips. Chasing the last traces of her taste like I'm licking frosting off a spoon.
Get a grip, Terrance. You have an audience.
Her eyes slide past my shoulder, taking in whoever just interrupted us. I watch her expression shift—confusion giving way to calculation, followed by something that looks suspiciously like amusement.
