What if I’ve just set her progress back? It took months for her to make eye contact with anyone. I need to send him away—
Luciano steps forward and drops to his knees.
Rosie stops shaking.
I stop breathing.
“Rosie, can you look at me, please?” he says so gently that the hum of the fridge is louder.
“You’re… you’re on your knees.” She takes a shuddering breath, but doesn’t look up. “Alphas don’t do that. Alphas—”
“—do whatever makes omegas feel safe.”
She flinches, muscles tensing, her head shaking slightly.
“That’s the truth, Rosie. I’m sorry you’ve been taught otherwise. But alphas are biologically wired to serve and protect omegas. To cherish them. Any alpha that doesn’t can’t call himself one.”
Her chin tilts up a little, but she still doesn’t meet his gaze.
And my stomach is a mess. The way he talks to her, his gentle tone, the sincerity in his eyes. This large alpha dropping immediately into a position of submission for an omega he barely knows.
No ego. No hesitation. Just instinct.
I swallow back all those thoughts. “Rosie, Luciano said you brought him food?”
She hesitates, then nods, thick blonde hair curtaining most of her face.
“Do you know what bringing food to an alpha means?” I ask.
She stills. I’m not sure she’s even breathing for a moment.
Then her quiet voice answers, “I was told it’s my job to serve alphas, to keep them happy. Food makes people happy. The fridge is always full here. I don’t have to beg, and that makes me happy.”
My breath catches, and my heart aches. I look to Luciano, and he must see the pain in my expression, because he lowers himself further, trying to catch her eyes.
“Rosie, when you bring an alpha food, it means you want to court them.”
Her head snaps up so fast she nearly connects with my chin. “It does?!” she blurts, her frantic gaze seeking out mine for reassurance.
When I slowly nod, her mouth drops open, eyes darting to Luciano.
“I didn’t realise… I didn’t mean to…”
“He knows.” I smile when she looks back at me. “He was worried about how your omega would respond if he rejected it.”
“I’m sorry,” she squeaks, her cheeks flushing as she tries to hold Luciano’s gaze, but can’t quite manage it. “I really didn’t… I didn’t know it meant… I…” She can’t finish her sentences.
She can’t catch her breath.
“Rosie?” I frown when her hands clasp at her chest, her breaths too sharp and shallow—
“Breathe, omega.” Luciano’s low bark rumbles through the room.
Immediately, Rosie follows his order. Taking long, deep breaths. Then slowly exhaling.
Luciano watches her, but I’m staring at him.
I’ve been brought up with two domineering alpha brothers, their equally loud friends, and a family of alpha dads. All of them military.
