I’m at the very back, leaning against the wall as I watch her show a third technique for something called abol-e-large.She’s smiling as she speaks into her headset, and theaudience frantically takes notes. I don’t know how they look away, because she is bewitching.
I’ve been entranced for the entire thing. All three hours.
I find myself disappointed when it ends with a deafening round of applause as she grins and claps the models on the stage.
When people start to leave, I stand by the door, listening in on conversations. Their praise and awe. This tiny omega has lit a flame beneath these people with her passion and energy, but suddenly, all I want is them gone.
She’s been on that stage for three hours straight. Talking, moving, smiling. A draining performance for anyone, never mind an omega whose only sustenance has been a sugar-loaded coffee.
As soon as the last few people leave, I make my way towards the platform where she’s sweeping up hair.
“Did you pick up any tips? Learn a thing or two?” She blows a curl out of her face as she stands to look at me, lips tilting into a teasing smile.
“You haven’t eaten.”
She frowns, holding the broom upright. “That’s what you learnt?”
When I reach out, her eyes widen a fraction, then she completely stills as I take the broom from her hands, placing it against a chair.
“What have you eaten today?”
Her face goes a little pink. “I… wait, that’s got nothing to do with you—”
“Have you drunk anything other than the coffee Luc gave you?”
“Well, no… but—”
“Sit.” I point to the chair behind her.
Her eyes fall into vibrant slits, hands landing on her hips as she arches one brow. And isn’t that a pretty look.Makes me want to see her really mad. All riled up. Hot and bothered.
But not right now, so I change tack. “Please. You’ve been on your feet since 8 AM, that I know of. In those things.” I glance at her heels. “You haven’t eaten or drunk any water. Sit.” I tilt my head at the chair, and although her expression has softened, she’s not doing as she’s told. “Unless you’d rather I spoke to your brother.”
She gasps, then scowls. “You wouldn’t dare—”
When I reach into my pants pocket, pulling out my phone, I barely touch the screen before she sits.
I try to hide my smirk, feeling her eyes on me as I type out a message.
“Hey! You said you wouldn’t—”
“I’m not texting your brother,” I murmur without looking up.
Message sent, I slide the small table with her tools on between us, pushing them to the side, then grab another chair and sit opposite.
“Now what?” she asks bitterly, still glaring at me, those green eyes burning with an anger I want to see explode. That, and the soft pout of her lips, the crease between her arched brows, rather than being threatening, only makes my mouth twitch.
When I don’t respond, I swear I feel the heat of her rage like a magnifying glass to the sun.
We stay in silence, watching each other, until I sink back into the small plastic chair, widening my legs to keep balanced. I clock the second her eyes drop. They shoot back up immediately, but it’s too late, and her cheeks are definitely rosier.
“You’re talented.” At my words, her scowl melts away, and I nod to the tools on the table. “Never knew you could do that many things with hair.”
She laughs a little, and I find myself leaning forward, elbows resting on my thighs, hands clasped beneath my chin.
“You’re telling me you don’t straighten those shiny locks every morning?” she snipes with a small head tilt and a whole lot of attitude.
My alpha is too alert, twitching beneath my skin as I hold back another smile. “No, trouble. I don’t normally have my hair this long.”
