Suddenly, I’m twirling around as it pounds into overdrive in my chest. My hair flies in an arch around me, my nostrils flared to catch that addicting smell, while my omega surges inside me.
I slowly suck in a breath through my nose, taking it deep into my lungs and holding it there for as long as I can.
Earthy, woody, slightly sweet musk… The scent of patchouli. There are more notes, though, that I can’t quite figure out beneath the smell of fresh yard work. It’s something comforting, calming in a way I’ve never experienced before.
Is it my scent-match? I didn’t think that was real, but… I go entirely still when my eyes finally find him. The alpha who knocked on our door and left his business card.
Brooks.
The grass is freshly cut, and he’s stretched over a hedge with an electric trimmer in his hands, razing the top off a fluffy green bush. Leaves and branches scatter around him, and he has a pair of bulky headphones covering his ears with a messy man-bun on the back of his head. His golden-brownskin gleams in the sun, muscles flexing as he works. I pause to drink him in, taking in his massive frame and bulging arms, while I vacillate between fear and hope, apprehension and curiosity.
My omega would be sprinting straight at him if she was able to, trying her best to get me to go over there and rub myself all over him.
But I can’t. I’m not his.
I belong to someone else.
The spark of hope in my chest dies and my shoulders hunch. I can feel myself drawing in, seeking comfort and safety in a world where I have none. My eyebrows twitch with betrayal and confusion, a final dose of sadness as I take one last look at the burly alpha before turning away.
My feet walk me back to the house on autopilot.
“You’re back early,” Josh comments when I walk in the door.
My eyes are on the floor as I nod, hoping he’ll let me pass without incident.
“What’s wrong with you, now?” he says, a suspicious twinge to his voice. “You normally look a bit more alive after your daily exercise.”
I try to slip past him without answering, but I should have known better. He snatches my arm and swings me into the wall, then grabs a fistful of my hair to force my head to the side, baring my neck to him.
He hasn’t bitten me, and I don’t think he ever will, but the threat is still terrifying. My breath hitches in my chest and I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Answer me, omega.” His voice carries the dominance of his alpha bark, forcing me to provide a response.
“Nothing is wrong, alpha. I just wanted to come home.”
The lies taste like bile, but I force them out anyway. I can feel his eyes roaming my body, inspecting me for who knowswhat, before he scoffs and shoves me away from him by the fist in my hair.
I stumble, but catch myself before I fall.
“Early lunch, then,” he calls out behind me, right as my foot touches the bottom stair.
I bow my head, then turn around to head for the kitchen.
Time has become an inconceivable construct. Sometimes it flies by, sometimes it drags on. Most often, it does the opposite of what I want it to. I’m starting to wish I could sleep my life away, but that isn’t an option.
They would never let me.
As I’m padding down the stairs a few days later, my mind is still stuck on that alpha. The one who smelled like patchouli and chamomile. I figured out the second part a couple days ago when I went to brew some sleepy time tea. The tea never manages to relax me, though.
Not like his scent did.
He’s been in my dreams, too. A face I can’t quite remember. A tall, strong frame, big and sturdy as a brick wall. Arms I could latch onto and he probably wouldn’t even notice.
I glance up as I near the bottom of the staircase, ready to step into the kitchen, when my eyes snag on a bulky form outside the window.
A familiar form.
My foot misses the last step and I trip with a clatter, catching myself on the banister. I quickly dart my gaze up and down the hall, hoping Steve and Josh didn’t hear me. Nothing happens for a few moments, and when I strain my ears, there’s low talking coming from their office.
