He made my space mine again. He did it by himself without anyone helping him because only his spicy scent lingers. It’s so at odds with how he acted, I’m not sure whether I trust what I can see and smell.
The stack of clothes on the bed also doesn’t match the actions of an Alpha who pretended I didn’t exist. I felt how angry he was at me being here. I felt it so clearly, as though his emotions were my own.
Like my bedroom, the bathroom is saturated withhim. And it’s like sunshine on a cloudy day. My soul skips a beat at the gift he left, even after he pretended I wasn’t here.
Stripping out of my clothes is no longer an arduous task. If anything, I need to be nude, to let his remaining presence and his scent do even more of its magic. Every second I stand in my space, I feel lighter, more settled.
I set the shower to lukewarm, then adjust the rail so the showerhead is at its lowest and pointed against the wall. I park my butt under the constant spray, willing my Omega back down now she’s taken her fill. It doesn’t take long. Admittedly, I’m incentivised by the pile of clothing on my bed.
His hoodie is obscenely oversized and luxuriously soft; it sends all the parts of me I’d been fighting to control in the shower to hyperdrive. The sweatpants he left were way too big; I put them under my pillow for later. In my overnight bag, I found things she hadn’t discovered, including a pair of gym leggings. I have to sit on the edge of my bed for a few minutes, reveling again in the gentle afterglow of being cared for by someone else. I haven’t let it happen for a long time; it was a weakness I couldn’t afford, but now I’m seeing how much I need it.
By the time I've dried my hair and pulled on a pair of his thick socks, I’m nearly back to being me—an Omega on a mission.
When I open the door, Nalla rolls into my room. She stays half upside down, looking up at me with slitted, sleepy eyes. I didn’t trust her for a second. Or her partner. Or her owner. “Where is he?”
Her tail thumps, confirming these two are in cahoots in scaring me as often as possible. When she doesn’t move her fluffy butt out of my way, I hold on to the doorjamb and take a wide step over her.
Before she can climb to her feet, I squat down and get in her face. “I’m giving you one chance, Nalla girl. You tell me where heis, or your lover boy is going to get real hungry until your owner comes back.”
I sit back on my haunches, glaring hard into her hazelnut-colored eyes. And I swear I’m losing my mind, because all I see is her laughing at me.
“Have it your way,” I growl, rolling up to standing.
And because he’s scared me the last few times, I switch on all the lights and check the shadows as I walk through the deserted house.
Passing the front door, there’s a noticeable absence of both the dogs and the wailing winds. It’s still fucking freezing, but it’s not fucking freezingandblowing a gale.
Before I start making something to eat, I need to find the controls for the central heating. I can’t imagine Sergey being the sort to do anything himself, including setting the temperature, which is why I look in the staff wing and not his. The thermostat is exactly where I thought it would be, and even though the instructions are in Russian, they’re not hard to figure out.
I hit the button for full house, and then set the thermostat to eighty-five degrees Farenheit. If I was home alone, there’s no way I’d have it set so high and on in every room. I also wouldn’t have all the lights on. I guess that means I’m Petty Betty by running up a huge electricity bill. It’s an entertaining thought. And I keep smiling as I go to find something to eat.
Given the size of his kitchen, I’m pretty sure Sergey has a bad case of small-man syndrome going on. The layout resembles a restaurant kitchen, including all the state-of-the-art appliances—ovens, microwaves, grill plates, and even teppanyaki areas, which only confirms again that so much of Sergey is about appearances. It explains why he gets along with Victor so well. The two of them are peas in their matching, egotistical pods.
Even from the door, it’s easy to see how empty the fridge is. It’s one of those fancy glass-door fridges. There are a few things left on a shelf, but I need real food—carbs or potatoes.
I spin around to go see what’s in the pantry and scream.
“That’s it!” I shout at them both, because of course, the black guy has crept in to stand next to Nalla when I wasn’t looking. My heart is beating so hard, it feels like it’s going to bruise the inside of my chest.
They stand side by side, gloating as much as dogs can gloat. He’s so much taller and bulkier than Nalla, I instinctively shrink down on myself. He most certainly is an Alpha, and a bossy one too.
He takes a step so close, I can see a small scar on his nose before he saunters right past with all the swagger of an Alpha. The two of them work together, herding me again, right out of the room this time. They keep me between them until we’ve woven our way through a series of shorter hallways, coming to stop in front of a closed door, a key waiting in the lock. Twisting the key, the latch opens, and like up in my bedroom, I’m floored and confused whenhisscent rushes out.
I get a shove from Nalla, making me stumble inside. The air is thick with his scent and theirs, and his presence lingers so obviously I can almost see him.
“What the hell is going on?” I murmur, looking around for answers.
This space is so different from the kitchen I was just in. In one corner, there’s an oversized fridge, and next to it is a freestanding stove and oven, along with a large pantry. A huge window, like the one you’d see in a country estate, steals a lot of my focus, directing my view towards a high-walled garden. Nalla walks past me and disappears out of view but pokes her head back around. I go with her and find another door and a note with four numbers and an arrow pointing at a keypad.
Pushing Nalla out of the way, I go back to the window, wanting to see the outdoor space again. It’s completely walled. There’s no way any of the other dogs could jump that height, but it’s Nalla and her crazy heroics I’m worried about. When I deactivate the alarm and unlock the door, both dogs rush out.
There’s more space now they’re outside, and I can move around easier and see things better. It’s a very pretty room. The bright yellow on the walls brings a smile to my face.
Opening the fridge, I’m pleasantly surprised to find it full of vacuum-sealed cuts of meat, loads of vegetables, and a whole shelf obviously devoted to the dogs.
It’s as if the Alpha knew I’d find this room.
Kind of presumptuous thinking on his part, or perhaps he just has complete faith in his dogs.
