“I’m not.” It was the truth. My breath hitched as he dipped his head, his nose dragged along my neck, his hands roamed up my belly, close to my breasts like he owned my body.
“Do you like being shared, Omega?” he growled. Even with my dead senses, that phantom flicker sparked again—that ghostly trail of burnt sweetness that seemed to bypass my nose and go straight to my brain. It was intoxicating. Kade nipped at the junction of my shoulder, his teeth sharp and playful, marking me with every rhythmic sway of his hips. I leaned back into him as I lifted my arms, wrapping them around his neck.
The room blurred. The dancing bodies around us were nothing more than shadows. It was just the heat of him, the hardness at my back, and the way his fingers ghosted beneath the hem of my oversized shirt, trailing up my thigh.
“Do you like my hands on you?” he chuckled, his voice a gravelly vibration against my skin.
“Yes,” I rasped. He turned me again, his hands caging my face as he stared down at me with those eyes. For a second, everything froze as they lowered to my lips. I thought he was going to kiss me.
But then, the air changed.
The heavy, fermented pressure of a drunk Alpha crowded our space, breaking the spell. I couldn’t smell the alcohol, but I could taste it, felt the humidity of it—a cloying pressure that triggered the sting of glass on my knee. A memory that made my stomach churn. His hands were on me.
“Fuck, you smell good,” he groaned.
All at once, the pressure, and his hands, vanished. A growl cut through the music, and the space between me and the drunk was suddenly occupied by Kade’s back. He was nose-to-nose with a stranger in a silent, predatory challenge. When the Alpha went for a drunken hook, Kade dropped, sweeping the man’sfeet out from under him with a precision that made the crowd gasp.
Then, the front door opened, and it felt like the house breathed in.
Dane appeared, and the room seemed to tilt toward him. He didn’t just demand attention, he seized it. He stepped forward, and the collective catch of breath from the women nearby filled the sudden silence. I blinked, and he was there, his expensive shoe pressing down on the fallen Alpha’s face, grinding his cheek into the floor with a calm, terrifying authority.
Dane was far more beautiful than I thought he could be. The vein in his temple pulsed, his jaw muscle flexed, and his thick lips begged to be sucked. A delicious shiver ran up my spine as chilling gray eyes darted to me. He was upset, but I didn’t care. He was here. Greedily, I stared at this perfect nose and slicked back hair. It was thick and dark. I wanted to grab a handful.
Kade looked up, his smirk wide and manic as he met Dane’s eyes. For a heartbeat, they exchanged a look. Did they know each other? Then Kade moved, stomping on the Alpha’s ribs while Dane maintained a crushing pressure on his head. Dane’s gaze remained on me until Kade was done.
Dane removed his foot and stepped toward me. I dragged my eyes from the floor, tracing a muscular chest up to a tatted neck.Knots.He was more beautiful than any Snarl could capture.
“Hi—ah!” I cried out as he grabbed my hand. His palm was hot and calloused. He turned without another word. The crowd parted like the Red Sea. I looked back at Kade; his face was splattered with blood. He was leaning against the counter, adjusting his suspenders and watching us with that wide-eyed grin. He just winked. A part of me knew I should say something—get a name, a number, anything—but then Dane’s fingers tightened on my wrist, and Kade became a blur.
“Wait. Can you give me a minute? I need to tell my cousin I’m leaving,” I said from behind him.
Dane pulled me out of the house and across the street toward a sleek black car. He didn’t slow down, his long strides causing me to stumble. When we reached the passenger door, he released me. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and refused to budge. He huffed, a sound of pure, dominant impatience. He opened the door. I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, he picked me up and threw me in.
Angel
Dane finding me at a party and shoving me into his car hadn’t been on my bingo card, but there I was. I didn’t just land on the seat; I was forced into it. The leather was cool, a sharp contrast to the humid chaos I’d just been ripped from. Before I could even find my breath, he slid in and the driver’s door slammed shut without sparing me a glance.
He shifted into gear and peeled out, the tires screaming in protest against the pavement. The force pinned me back, my fingers fumbling with the seat belt as the neighborhood blurred into a smear of lights.
It wasn’t until we hit the highway that my shock curdled into indignation. I folded my arms across my chest.
“Not the best first impression,” I grumbled, fixed on the passing blur of streetlights.
He remained a silhouette of rigid muscle. He was ignoring me, but he occupied the space so completely, it was impossible to look away. My eyes failed to get the memo, fixating on his white-knuckled grip on the wheel before I dared to drink in the rest of him.
He was beautiful in a way that hurt to look at—all sharp angles and repressed violence. Ink slithered out beneath the cuff at his wrist, and I itched to see the rest of it. As he exhaled, a low, rough sound, his nostrils flared.
He didn’t turn his head, but the air in the car suddenly felt twice as heavy.
“You smell like fucking dessert.” The sound was even darker in person than it had been on the phone—a deep, resonant bass that vibrated through the seat and straight into my bones. “That maniac bastard.”
My heart skipped. “You know Kade?”
A muscle jumped in his jaw—a tell of a long-standing, weary kind of anger.
“Foster care,” he clipped out. “I’ve spent a lifetime cleaning up his messes. He doesn’t have a lick of impulse control, and he clearly spent the last hour with his face buried in your neck.”
“He was scenting me, too.”
