She leans.
She sighs.
She scrambles into my lap, like she needs the comfort, or maybe she thinks I’ll need it by the time she’s finished telling me… whatever she’s about to. Her face presses into my neck, instinctually seeking the spot where my scent would be strongest if not for the suppressants.
“Without going into specifics,” she says carefully, the words tickling against my skin. “I… had a really awful experience with an alpha. Just-just one… but it was-” a delicate shudder cuts off her words. I rumble a half growl, half purr and pull her closer.
“It was enough to make you wary of all alphas. He barked at you?” I guess, thinking of how she’d asked that I not do that during our first challenge together. “Made you do something you didn’t want to do.”
I can just imagine what that might be. A beautiful, sassy, stubborn omega like Florence who has no problem telling andalpha ‘no.’ I can guess what he did to her, and it makes me feral. Enraged.
She nods, unaware of the fire burning inside me, the need to hunt down this motherfucker and rip him limb from limb with my bare hands. “I know it's not logical. And I guess… Once I get to know an alpha, I can feel safe with them. My best friend Haven’s alphas are wonderful. They’re like this pack of big brothers that I would trust with my life. But everyone else…” She trails off again, clearly uncomfortable talking about this, sharing this with me.
My hands smooth gently over her. Down her spine, the side of her thigh, her arm. Gently, gently, gently. So she doesn’t know that I’m plotting murder.
“They make you wary.”
A jerky nod of her head. “Part of why I came was because I thought this would be a good, safe way to interact with unknown alphas. My therapist wanted me to start going to those alpha/omega mixers—do you guys do those in Bravonne? But that felt too… overwhelming. Safe, sure. But all those packs? All those alphas?”
“You wanted to start with just one new pack. See how it went.”
A hum of agreement from her as she nuzzles closer. And doesn’t that just make my heart go all warm and gooey? Here she is doing something hard, telling me something she doesn’t have to share, just because I asked.
Brave little omega.
I rub my cheek over the top of her head, wishing like hell I could scent mark her, make her smell like mine, but the damn suppressants make it impossible.
“How do you feel about us? Now that you’ve had a chance to get to know us?”
My arm lifts with the strength of her inhale before she blows out a long breath. “You guys are… great.” Why does she sound hesitant about that? Is she just telling me what she thinks I want to hear?
I pull back, wanting to look at her expression while I press the issue. “Is that the truth?”
A small huff of laughter makes her pretty eyes crinkle. “It’s part of the truth,” she admits. “You are great. All of you, and I never thought I would feel so at ease with another group of alphas. Especially not alphas who aren’t… mine.” She finishes on a whisper, looking away from me. The admission hits like a punch to the gut, like Grieves just fucking roundhouse kicked me in the stomach.
We are yours,I want to tell her. But I can’t.
“I kind of thought I wouldn’t be able to get to this point with any alpha unless they were, you know,mypack.” Fated mates she means. Fuck, I need to know what happened to her. Need to understand what’s made her so fucking terrified of my designation, but I know I can’t force her to tell me.
It’s not my fucking place to demand anything of her.
Not when I can’t offer her more than this, more than listening to her, offering her the barest amount of comfort.
After a long stretch of silence, she says softly, “He didn’t rape me. I don’t want you to think that’s what happened. It wasn’t sexual for him. It was more about dominance.”
I blow out a breath that ruffles the soft strands of her hair and pull her closer to me. Which is a feat because she’s already pressed into my chest as tight as she can be. “I had been… worried that might be that case.”Worriedis too soft of a word for what I’d been feeling. Concerned. Sick. Fucking irate as hell that anyone would dare to touch her without her consent.
She tips her head back, just enough to press a soft kiss to the hinge of my jaw, like she thinks I need to be soothed in this moment.
And she’s right, I do need it.
I need her.
Her soft kisses on my skin. Her warm weight on my lap. Her yielding curves pressed to my hard edges. Her laugh. Her smile. Her words. Her safety. Her love. I need all of that. All of her.
I wish like hell I could have her.
Keep her.
