Can’t believe he knows I’m awakened. Sawyer doesn’t need to know about the scent suppressants. I don’t owe Sawyer an explanation about my life. His friend wanted me gone. Now that I’m back, Dustin reminds me how much he hates me.
My first heat will be overwhelming. I know that. And Sawyer’s scent would calm it.
I hate that he’s right. I’ve known for a long time.
He’s a scent match.
Too bad it doesn’t matter.
He needs to move on. There’s no way I can be with any of them.
Resting my cheek in my palm, I force myself to look at the whiteboard. Sawyer gently pulls my hand away and presses his lips to my knuckles.
My heart stutters.
Gosh, he has to stop. What if he triggers my heat early?
“What’s on your mind, little omega?” he murmurs, his deep voice sinking straight into my core.
“Our lesson,” I say quickly, pulling my hand back.
I feel his gaze on me and others too.
Before he can say anything else, I shove my books into my backpack and slip out of class early, humming under my breath to keep him from commanding me to stay.
I don’t stop until I reach the dining hall.
I need space. I need air. I need anything that isn’t an alpha with too much power over my body.
Also I’d like to get to know other students. My best friends’ Kanieshie and Candice from high school attend out of state colleges. We still chat often. They love their schools. I’m happy for them. Hopefully, I can fall in love with Greywood University like I planned originally.
I manage a well-known anonymous blog where I share campus gossip gathered from my trusted sources. These sources, who always sign NDAs, provide some of the stories I post. Keeping my identity hidden as the blog’s author is crucial, and I’m equally committed to safeguarding the anonymity of my sources. People can get pretty vindictive if they find out their secrets were shared.
I had covered gossip at Kanieshie’s college in North Carolina. And a college in Dallas, Texas too. Today, I’ll meet with a new source.
Track season won’t begin until spring. For now, I’m training, which gives me some extra time, enough to distract me from the alphas and the heat that’s coming.
I grab a tray and wander past the food stations that draw my eye, finally choosing pizza and veggies.
“You’re her,” a woman says from behind.
I glance back as I step up to the cashier. “Sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”
After swiping my student card, I search the dining hall for an open table.
Ignoring the woman’s words, I move on. Sitting down, I breathe in the scent of pepperoni and melted cheese. The mozzarella fills my nose, and I can’t help but smile. Pizza has been a favorite since childhood, along with broccoli.
My eyes pop open and I find the woman sitting across from me, her smile warm and inviting. The glow from the grand light fixtures in the gourmet dining hall highlights her rich mocha complexion.
“Now you’re following me,” I say.
“Relax Harper.” She leans in. “It’s Chavelle Braxton.”
“You don’t look like Chavelle. She has short hair, a mole over her lip, and wears big glasses.”
“That was my disguise. People can’t know what I do around here,” she adds.
I smile. “I agree. Anonymity is important.”
