Faded memories flash in my mind.
An alpha’s face hovering too close,
the crush of a hand over my mouth,
the jolt of a car door slamming,
the blur of streetlights streaking past the window.
And then…nothing.
My stomach flips, and my throat gets tight. I shift my gaze to the bottom edge of the divider beside me, trying to figure out where I am.
There’s a gap. Only an inch or two, but it’s enough to see tennis shoes and a single pair of black boots.
The boots slide closer, stopping right next to the partition. Then a male voice says, “No worries, Dr. Plume. I can check on her while you step out.”
I hear a distant thanks, then the partition gives the faintest shiver, like someone brushed past it. A shadow fallsacross the thin curtain, a silhouette that lingers far too long. Then a hand appears at the edge, fingers curling around the side as if he’s about to pull it back, and my blood goes cold with fear.
I quickly drop my head back onto the thin pillow, eyelids snapping shut. I force my breathing to slow, and all the muscles in my face to soften. Then I let my fingers go slack, making every inch of my body go still. Heavy.
I can feel the man moving next to me more than I can hear him. He’s a beta, but a faint omega-tang clings to him, like he’s been moving between cots.
He stands right next to me, the heat from his body warming my exposed arm.
I keep my breath even and my lashes still.
Don’t move. Don’t flinch. Don’t let him know you’re awake.
A breath stirs the air above my cheek. Warm. Too close. Fingers grip my chin, tipping my head one way, then the other.
“You’re very beautiful,” the beta whispers so softly, clearly not wanting to be heard by anyone else. His thumb strokes my jawline, a featherlight touch that makes my stomach churn. His hand travels down, circling around my neck. He squeezes, just enough to feel my pulse thrumming against his palm. “They’re already lining up to meet you.”
His words hit my nerves like a struck wire. My heart slams once against my ribs before I can clamp down on it. I pray he can’t see the tremor that races up my spine.
The beta’s hand lifts off of me, and for a moment, I think he might leave, but then my sheet slips downward.
It’s a slow tug.
The faint drag of fabric down my chest, then down myribs. Cold air makes my nipples harden, and a fresh wave of fear lights me up.
Oh my god! Am I naked?
Shock tears through me, every muscle in my body begging to tense as he exposes my breasts, stomach, and hips. But I force my body to obey. To stay still and quiet, breathing even.
Warmth hovers just above my skin. I feel his hand ghost over my breastbone, then down to my chest. My skin pebbles in the chill, a betrayal of every nerve screaming for flight. Fingers slowly trace the curve of one breast, then the other, before fully groping me. His fingertip pushes into my skin, his thumb brushing over my nipple with a possessive swipe.
It takes everything in me not to sob.
So instead, I do the only thing I know how to do in moments like this.
I slip inward, pulling my awareness away from my skin. Away from the warm press of his palm against my flesh and the feel of his breath across my face. I focus instead on the darkness behind my eyelids, on the slow rhythm of my own breathing. On the tiny rise and fall of my own chest.
My body is an outline. Something distant, a shape filled with static.
The beta’s hands move across me, but it’s like they’re touching someone else.
Not me.
