“He’s not my Alpha,” I told him.
“Who is then?” he asked.
“You are,” I answered.
His smile softened, becoming less sharp, less angry.
“Why did you let that bitch speak to me like that?” he asked, offended, as if I had any control over anything that happened in that room. It didn’t matter. He was telling me it was my fault. That I had to make it right.
“I’m sorry, I was scared,” I told him, hoping he’d believe me. It wasn’t a lie. I had been.
He stepped closer to me.
“Smell this,” he said, holding a candle out to me.
I leaned forward and dutifully smelled it. I couldn’t have said what it actually smelled like. In that moment, all my attention, every sense, was on alert, focused on him, on not making him mad.
I hummed appreciatively.
“Would you like it?” he asked.
“Only if you like the scent too,” I told him.
He tossed it on the table carelessly.
“It’s not my taste,” he said.
“What is?” I asked, turning to the table. “That was too floral. You need something more masculine to match you,” I said, my eyes scanning the candles. “Here,” I said, picking up a sandalwood incense tester. “This is more you,” I told him.
He leaned forward, taking hold of my wrist to steady my hand, and smelled.
“It does have a more masculine scent, but why not a candle?” he asked and seemed genuinely curious.
“Candles feel”—I shrugged—“more girly, I guess. It’s silly. I just feel like incense is more sophisticated, classy… like you,” I trailed off, a new, very different scent reaching me.
“I am more sophisticated,” he answered, his pheromones spreading out towards me.
I hated the scent of him.
It turned my stomach.
“Exactly,” I said.
He pulled me closer to him, so close that anyone watching would assume we were lovers. His arm wrapped around my waist.
“Why did you leave me for her?” he whispered against my ear.
“I didn’t have a choice,” I told him. “You know I’d never choose her over you,” I said.
“Did you let her fuck you?” he asked.
I pushed him away with a laugh.
“As you said,” I began, turning back to the candles, “she wouldn’t know what to do,” I said.
“That’s not an answer,” he said.
“I thought it was,” I replied when I turned back to him, a packet of the incense in my hand. “Here, get this,” I told him, handing the packet to him.
