It smells good.
Dangerously good.
Infuriatingly, inconveniently, inexplicably good.
Other Omegas have never done this to me. Their scents are usually fine. Pleasant enough, I suppose, in a generic sort of way. Sometimes annoying. Sometimes headache-inducing if they are wearing too much perfume or if their heat is approaching and their pheromones are going haywire.
But hers?
Fuck.
I could smell her all day and not get tired of it. Could bury my face in her neck and just breathe until my lungs gave out. Could wrap myself in whatever she sleeps in and never want to wash it.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
My cock has been half-hard since she walked into the locker room, and no amount of mental cold showers is making it go down. It is humiliating. Infuriating. A betrayal by my own body that I did not authorize and cannot control.
I do not want to be attracted to her.
I do not want to notice the way her hips sway when she walks, or the way her eyes flash with defiance when she is angry, or the way her lips curve into that infuriating smirk that makes me want to kiss it off her face.
Not kiss. Bite. There is a difference.
She is supposed to be Nerdy MaeBell. The girl I tormented. The ghost of my worst decisions come back to haunt me.
She is not supposed to be the most intoxicating thing I have ever smelled.
This is not a good sign. This is the opposite of a good sign. This is a flashing neon warning that says danger ahead, turn back now, abandon all hope.
So yeah. One thing led to another, Cal and I started shouting, and before I knew it we were throwing punches in our own living room like a couple of feral dogs fighting over a bone.
Miss Phillip showed up because apparently our neighbors called to complain about the noise.
Our neighbors should mind their own fucking business.
She scolded us like we were children. Made us stand there and take it while she lectured us about appropriate behavior and conflict resolution and the importance of maintaining a peaceful living environment.
Humiliating.
Absolutely humiliating.
And then, just when I thought the day could not get any worse, I heard it.
Laughter.
Coming from outside.
Etienne's laughter, to be specific. That warm, genuine sound I have only heard from him a handful of times in the years we have been packmates.
What the fuck was he even laughing about?
Turns out, he was laughing with her. With Mabeline. Standing outside our dorm like they were old friends instead of virtual strangers, her broken suitcase between them, both of them grinning like the world was not currently on fire around them.
And then his brother showed up.
Bastien fucking Laurent.
I do not know where that asshole came from. Do not know why he decided today of all days was a good time to start shit with his younger brother. But watching the two of them square off, watching Etienne wrap his arm around Mabeline like she belonged to him, watching him threaten to knock Bastien's face in if he touched her again...
