Sage turns away from me and rushes back to the porch, her head down and shoulders hunched. I set the coffee down and straighten to my full height, trying to rein in the instinctive response to snatch her back to me.
She might be my scent-match, but that doesn’t mean she’s mine. I should have asked if she was bonded to these alphas.
The man steps to the side and glares at Sage, murmuring a threat I barely catch as she slips by him. “I’ll be dealing with you later.”
Then he slams the door behind him and stomps over to me.
“You fucking asshole, who do you think you are?”
He’s yelling loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear, so I hold my hands up in a sign of surrender, even as I bristle at the affront. I can sense my alpha is stronger than his, but I’ve never been one to play the dominance game. This is the first time I’ve been tempted to, but I don’t have the whole story. I don’t know her, or anything about this situation at all.
“Hey man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
He’s not deterred, and his face starts to turn red as he continues to yell profanities. “Get the fuck off my property.You don’t come near my omega. I don’t ever want to see your face again!”
“Sure, no problem.” I bend down to pick up my tools, keeping one eye on him as I grab my things.
He’s muttering, although not very quietly, so it’s easy for me to hear what he says as he stomps back to the porch. “Fucking omega slut. Locking her in the nest the rest of the day. Can’t do one simple thing right.”
Then he’s inside, and the front door slams closed.
My body is frozen at what I think I heard. Locking her in? An omega’s nest is a safe space, though. So she’ll be okay in there. It’s probably where she’d want to be anyway, even if she is locked in.
A flash of white draws my eye to a window on the second floor. Sage is there, brown eyes wide and stricken, shoulders hunched up to her ears as she huddles in the corner of the window looking down at the disaster below.
I can hear him yelling inside the house, then a second angry male voice joins in. I look up at her, trying to convey with my eyes alone how sorry I am, but she steps back and disappears from view. I force myself to turn away and take one step, then another.
My alpha is howling in protest, raging against this decision, but I have no right to be here.
There’s nothing I can do.
I’ve been thinking about it all day—thinking aboutherall day. It doesn’t feel right, her being there with those two alphas. I don’t know what the right move is, but I can’t get her out of my head.
I’ve never been drawn to someone like this before, but Iwant to get to know her. It feels more like a need at this point than a want: to know what makes her smile, her passions and hobbies, her fears and worries. I want the good and the bad, but most of all, I want to ensure she’s alright.
I keep an eye out for her as I’m working in the neighborhood the next couple days, hoping for a glimpse as I drive by, but she’s nowhere to be seen. I’m becoming a restless ball of agitation, when finally on the third day, I feel a pair of eyes on me.
I’m mowing a side lawn, mostly hidden from view by a line of trees and shrubbery, when prickles along the back of my neck put my alpha on alert. I slowly tip my head, angling it to the side so I can look around, and that’s when I spot her.
She’s across the street, frozen, staring at me with an expression tinged with fear and… longing? My heart thumps and I release the push-mower, automatically turning it off as the handle drops. The sound cuts off, a sharp silence descending as I glance up and down the road for her alphas.
She’s alone.
I take one step forward, but she responds by stepping back. My brows pinch, and I hold my hands out to the sides, placating.
Pleading.
She bites her lip, her fingers twist together, but then she glances up and down the street before hurrying across it. She stops on the sidewalk about twenty feet in front of me, and I don’t dare get too close. I don’t want any hint of my scent on her for fear of what her alphas might do, nor do I want to make her uncomfortable.
But I do have something for her.
I hold up one finger for her to wait, and she gives a jerky, confused nod. Her eyes are constantly moving, searching her surroundings, and it reaffirms my suspicions.
I pull a small bundle out of my pocket and hold it up untilher eyes drift back to me, then I walk over to the tree line and place the two items on the ground.
I nod, angling my head as I back away, then gesture for her to move forward. She eyes me, brows drawn together, but then scurries over to the package. She unfolds the paper, leaving it there, and pulls out the cheap cell phone and charger.
My heart is pounding, my alpha frozen in my chest as I wait to see if she’ll accept my gift. If she’ll recognize it for what it is.
