"Jesus Christ, what?" The second voice was annoyed. Why was he annoyed? Camelia didn't do anything wrong. She just needed...fuck, she needed an Alpha...
Evan lowered his voice when he spoke again, so much so that Camelia couldn't make out what he was saying. Her hands clamped harder over her ears, and she groaned softly at the sensitivity of her nipples against her bra when she shifted.
God, she needed to...get it off...
"Off," she mumbled. Camelia grabbed the hem of her sweater and tugged at it, briefly stymied by the act of undressing before she managed to pull the heavy fabric over the top of her head, her shirt going with. Immediately, she was more comfortable, the air cool on her heated skin, and she nodded to herself, mindless as she reached for the waist of her pants as well.
"Fuck!" Before Camelia could do more than fumble at the button of her jeans, her wrists were firmly grasped in two strong hands, and they pulled her away from what she was doing.
"Mmf," she mumbled in protest. She looked up, her vision a little bleary, and managed to focus on James' handsome face, who was looking at her with concern and a hint of apprehension.
But that didn't matter. Because the second he shifted a little closer to get a look at her, his scent hit Camelia like a freight train and she gasped before surging forward, practically tackling the man as she buried her nose in his throat. It was the same scent mingled with Evan's in the home, but here, undiluted and unadulterated, James' scent made her instincts thrill. Whiskey and leather and something bitter filled her nose, and it was so painfully masculine that she couldn't help the way that she moaned as she breathed it in.
"Evan, what the fuck?" James' voice was strangled, mildly confused, but his arms came around Camelia to hold her close, nonetheless. She sighed at the renewed sense of comfort and buried deeper into his embrace.
Chapter eighteen
Evan
What the fuck, what the fuck. Gotta get help. Gotta call someone. Gotta...fuck.
Evan's inner monologue raged as he watched Camelia bury herself deeper into James' arms, and the accusing stare of his friend made him defensive. "I just found her like that, James," he growled. "She was curled up on the ground outside the admin building and looked like she needed help. I tried to ask what was wrong, and then..."
And then she flung herself at me and I couldn'tnotsmell her. Evan swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair as his cock twitched in his pants. It had been half-hard the moment her sweet scent had filled his nose, and filled to stiff, throbbing fullness the second he had felt her soft form press in his arms. Even seeing her in James' arms now did nothing to calm his raging erection, and he reached down to adjust himself.
"Then?" James's eyes were flinty and accusing as he stood up, one hand sweeping up and down Camelia's back soothingly ashe sat on the couch with her still wrapped around him. She was making tiny, sweet sounds as she pressed her nose against his neck, and Evan's fingers twitched to join them.
For him and James to take care of Camelia.TheirOmega.
"I smelled her," Evan finally growled. "She's an Omega."
James rolled his eyes a little, but Evan could see that Camelia's scent was getting to him, too. His hand still stroked comfortingly up and down her back, but there was a tension in his muscles now as he held her. A shift of her body revealed his erection pressed aggressively down the leg of his jeans, and Evan bit back a vicious hum of approval at the sight.
Claim. Take. Mate. She's yours. Both of yours.
"No shit, Sherlock," James finally muttered, his voice strained. The hand wrapped around Camelia's hip tightened, and she whimpered in pleasure as she shifted closer to him.
"We need...to call someone," James said, gritting his teeth together. It was clear why, too. Camelia's movement had sat her directly on his erection, and her hips were grinding down against him with tiny movements as she moaned softly. Her pheromones were so heavy in the air that Evan could practically taste them, and it took everything inside of him to nod and pull out his phone instead of step closer to the pair on the couch and wrap his entire body around them simultaneously.
"Yeah. Her dad...He's a diplomat, I think?" Evan wracked his brain for any and all information that he had heard or gathered on Camelia since the beginning of the school year. It was depressingly little – he spent more time wrestling with his own feelings about the woman than actually getting to know her, despite what his father had said – but it was something.
"Fine. Go call him. Tell him what's happening. I'm sure he'll want to come get her so that she's safe." James' voice strangled as Camelia ground her hips against his hard cock again, and Evan turned, already dialing.
Before one or both of us take her for ourselves.
Chapter nineteen
Camelia
Camelia was happy. Floating. Desperate, but content for the moment. She was in an Alpha's arms, and he was taking care of her.
James' hand swept up and down her back soothing strokes, and his warm scent filled her nose with every breath she took. She was barely aware of the fact that she was still shirtless, and he was fully clothed, but that didn't seem to matter. The heat seemed to have mellowed a little, at least for a moment, but Camelia knew that it was only a matter of time before it surged again and she would become mindless, desperate to fuck and be claimed and mated by an Alpha until it ceased.
She had not one, buttwoAlphas nearby who could fit the bill, and her instincts werethrilled.
"Yeah, sure. But...sir, I'm sorry but..." Evan's voice, slightly panicky, penetrated through the fog in Camelia's brain, and she whimpered softly in distress.
An Alpha was upset. She needed to help him. Needed to make it better. She could make it better...
