"You wrote that I was incapable of genuine attachment. That my surrender was purely strategic—repositioning, you called it. Elegant theory." He tilted his head, studying me with those dark green eyes. "But I wasn't incapable of attachment. I was simplywaiting."
"Waiting for what?"
"For the right Omega. For you."
The words hit me like a physical blow. Heat pooled low in my belly, foreign and terrifying.
Even though the glass was between us, I took a step back.
"I've read your book seventeen times," he continued. "Every page. Every footnote. Every line you wrote about me." He pressed his palms flat against the glass, and I could see the ace of hearts tattooed across his inner wrists. "No one has ever seen me the way you did. Not the psychiatrists, not the profilers, not the endless parade of experts. Youunderstood. The real me. And you put it on paper for the world to read."
"I tried to be as professional as possible and take my time researching—"
"Research? No, Dr. Lark. It's called obsession." His eyes locked onto mine. "You think I don't recognize it?”
“I am not. . .obsessed.”
“I know obsession well.” He studied me. “I am obsessed with you.”
I took another step back.
He smiled, and it reminded me of the skull on his back—absurdly wide, demented and gorgeous all at the same time. “I saw your author photo, Willow. The one on the back cover. And for the first time in my life, my bodyresponded."
My breath caught. "What do you mean, responded?"
"Alphas are supposed to go into rut by sixteen. It's biological inevitability—the aggressive, possessive haze that drives us to claim and breed with Omegas." He leaned closer to the glass, and even through the barrier, his scent was overwhelming. "I never did. Not once. Thirty-four years old, confirmed Alpha by every test, and my biology simply. . .refused to activate. The doctors called it a miracle. I called it patience and then. . ."
I widened my eyes.
"And then I saw your photograph." That delirious smile remained. "And I went into rut so hard I destroyed my cell. Broke three guards' arms before they could sedate me. All because I saw your face and my body finally understood what it had been waiting for."
I shook my head. "I don’t think that’s biologically possible. That sort of response has never been documented—”
"Forget books. I am telling you facts. I started dreaming of you after that. Your voice. Your scent—a scent I'd never smelled, but somehowknew." He inhaled slowly and nodded. "Yes. I got it right.”
My bottom lip quivered. “That’s not possible either.”
“My biology recognized you before my mind did. And now you're here, and you smell exactly the way I dreamed. Sweet, warm, andmine."
My skin flushed.
My pulse pounded.
Another gush of slick left my pussy.
Another clench of emptiness.
Another throb of need so intense it bordered on pain.
I have to get out of here. Why did I stay so long?
"I can’t wait to taste you tonight." He pressed his face close to the glass, stuck out his obscenely long tongue, and gave the glass a long lick.
A tidal wave of hot desire crashed into me.
My knees buckled.
I barely caught myself on the wall and began panting.
