He doesn't want her touching him. He doesn't want her anywhere near him. And she either can't read the signals or is deliberately ignoring them.
"Are you still working over at the West Station?" Destiny continues, still clutching his arm. "I could drop by sometime. Bring you boys some home-cooked meals. I've gottenreallygood at cooking lately."
"I'm actually at Central now?—"
"Oh, even better! That's closer to my apartment!" She beams like this is the best news she's heard all week. "We should exchange numbers. I know we lost touch after... well." She waves her free hand dismissively. "Ancient history. But I'vereallymissed you, Elias."
Okay, that's enough.
I don't think about it. I don't plan it. I just... move.
"Thanks for waiting, Elias," I say brightly, stepping up beside him and slipping my hand into his. My voice is sweet—syrup-sweet, the kind of sweetness that has teeth hidden underneath. "These clothes are just such a pain to keep from falling off. Everything's sobigon me."
I feel Elias startle slightly, but to his credit, he recovers almost instantly. His fingers close around mine, warm and solid, and some of the tension drains from his shoulders.
Destiny's gaze snaps to me. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows draw together as she takes me in—really looks at me for the first time. The oversized hoodie. The sweatpants that are literally being held up by sheer willpower and a drawstring. The fact that I smell like three different Alphas.
"Those are clearly men's clothes," she says, her voice dripping with disdain.
I smile—my best innocent, butter-wouldn't-melt smile—and squeeze Elias's hand a little tighter.
"Well, yes," I say, letting just a hint of purr slip into my voice. I wink at her. "They are."
Her mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. I can practically see the gears turning behind her eyes as she processes what I'm implying.
"Can we go shopping now?" I ask Elias, tilting my head up to look at him with an expression that I hope reads as adoring. "I really do need something that actually fits."
"Yeah," Elias says, and I can hear the relief flooding his voice even though he's trying to play it cool. "Let's go."
We turn toward the door, our hands still linked. I can feel Destiny's stare boring into my back—can practically feel the outrage radiating off her in waves. But before she can say anything, before she can try to stop us or demand an explanation, we're already pushing through the exit.
The door swings shut behind us, and I catch the tail end of her voice, shrill with indignation:
"Whoisthat?"
And then the secretary's response, calm and matter-of-fact:
"Ah, that's that gentleman's new Omega."
The doors close before I can hear any more, cutting off whatever reaction Destiny might have had. The January air hits my face—cold and crisp and infinitely better than the stale atmosphere of the registration office. Or the suffocating cloud of Destiny's perfume.
Elias and I walk in silence for a moment, still holding hands, putting distance between us and the office. It's not until we're halfway down the block that he finally speaks.
"Holy shit." He's laughing, but there's an edge of disbelief to it. "That was—you just?—"
"She was making you uncomfortable," I say simply. "It seemed like the easiest solution."
"The easiest—" He stops walking, turning to face me with an expression that's somewhere between amazed and amused. "You just claimed me in front of the nosiest gossip in Oakridge Hollow."
Oh. Oh no.
I didn't think this through. I didn't think at all. I just saw her hands on him and his discomfort and I acted on pure instinct.
"Is that... bad?"
"Bad?" Elias laughs again, running his free hand through his hair. "Rosemarie, by sundown, everyone in this town is going to know that the Late Alphas pack has a new Omega. And they're going to think we're already..." He gestures between us vaguely.
Already together. Already bonded. Already a real pack instead of a temporary arrangement built on paperwork and mutual desperation.
