And then I smell it. Through the glass, through the walls, the unmistakable scent of Nacho.
Leather and rain. Clean and masculine and steady as hell. Alpha scent that makes my omega purr with recognition. With need. With the desperate desire for safety.
My hand closes around the door handle.
This is stupid. This is reckless. This is my omega making decisions my brain knows are dangerous.
But I'm so tired of being alone.
I push open the door.
The reception area is small and functional. A desk, some plastic chairs, fluorescent lights that buzz overhead. And thescent—leather and rain mixed with coffee, old paper, the faint tang of gun oil.
A young deputy looks up from his phone, eyes widening when he sees me. "Miss Delacroix?"
He knows who I am. Of course he does. He’s probably wondering what the runaway bride is doing in the sheriff's station on a Monday morning.
"Is the sheriff in?" My voice comes out steadier than I feel.
"Sheriff Negrorio? Yes, ma'am. He's in his office. Should I—"
"I'll show myself back."
I don't wait for permission. Don't give myself time to second-guess. I walk past the desk, down the short hallway, following the scent trail like a beacon.
Leather and rain getting stronger with every step. Alpha scent calling to my omega. Pack calling me home.
I stop in front of the door marked SHERIFF.
My hand hovers over the handle.
What am I doing? What do I expect to happen? I ran from Carlos on the street. I fled from Pedro's clinic. Now I'm voluntarily walking into Nacho's territory?
But I'm alone. My omega is screaming for safety. And this scent, this alpha, this man who's always been steady and quiet and there...
My omega trusts him. Even if my brain is terrified.
I knock before I can change my mind.
"Come in." His voice is deep. Steady. The voice of a man who has never been uncertain about anything in his life.
I open the door.
Nacho looks up from his desk, and the full force of his scent hits me like a wave.
Alpha and pack and safety.
My omega nearly drops me to my knees with the force of her recognition.
Pack. Safety.
His eyes meet mine. Dark and intense and seeing everything.
"Jessica."
One word. My name. In that deep, steady voice.
And for the first time since I climbed out that window, I feel like maybe, just maybe, everything's going to be okay.
