Cursed Love (The Vallaverse)

9. Amel

Amel

She’s trembling, her fingers barely resting in my hands, and all I want to do is pull her into my arms. The urge to shield her, to protect her from whatever’s got her this shaken, is clawing at my insides. She’s like a skittish animal, one wrong move away from bolting, and I can’t afford to scare her more than she already is.

Her eyes keep darting across the room, locking onto an Alpha I’ve already decided I hate with every fiber of my being. Damien, she called him. He stands there like a king surveying his domain, his gaze heavy on her even from this distance. He’s watching her, waiting, like he owns her. It makes my blood boil. If I had my way, I’d march across the dance floor and rip him apart, limb by limb, until there was nothing left for her to fear. Or maybe I’d sic Hunter and Moses on him while we watch, this beautiful Omega curled up in my arms.

Her gaze flickers back to me, her beautiful brown eyes swimming with unshed tears, my chest aching for a woman I’ve just met. Her terror is evident in the way her hands tremble, in the way she’s trying so hard to hold herself together, even though she’s clearly on the verge of falling apart. I fucking hate it. I hate that she’s been reduced to this. I hate that she’s used to being afraid. But what I hate the most is that she’s looking at me like I’m going to hurt her too.

I soften my voice, my grip on her hands light but steady. “Hey,” I say gently. “I need you to listen to me for a moment, okay? What’s your name?”

“Koa,” she whispers and I run her name a few times over my tongue, loving how soft it feels in my mouth.

“Koa, sweet girl, I am mated. To two brothers, both Valla.” I know how rare that is. It’s even rarer that they both mated the same Alpha. Her scent spikes, fear racing through her eyes but she doesn’t pull away. It doesn’t mean she isn’t seconds away from bolting, though. “The three of us,” I continue, “we’ve been searching for an Omega. Not just anyone, but someone who fits us. Someone we can build a life with. And, Koa...” I trail off, my chest tightening as I look at her, really look at her. “I’ve never smelled anything like you before. Never felt this way about anyone before. I want to give you my rose.”

She blinks at me, her expression unreadable for a long moment. Then, her brow furrows, and she pulls back slightly, her hands slipping from mine. “So that’s it?” she frowns, a little growl at the edge of her words. “You want me because I smell good? Because I’ll fit into your little pack?”

I hold back my immediate response—laughter—because I didn’t expect that out of Koa. She seems so mild-mannered but I see it now, the defiance in her expression. Beneath the fear and bits of submission, she hates this night probably even more than I do. My nonreaction fuels her as she folds her arms across her chest, her nose scrunching up in the most adorable way. “For your information,” she says, her voice breaking, “I can’t have kids. So there. Still want me?”

Those big doe eyes glare back at me, unshed tears covering them like glass as the rest of the gala falls away. Someone had to make her believe that and whoever it is, I’m going to kill them. It’s when I realize that she’s not truly angry at me. Her words are laced with pain. She’s been hurt, ridiculed, cast aside so many times that she expects it now. It’s her default. The fact that she believes her worth is tied to being able to have kids kills me because that’s a notion that’s been taught, been stuffed down her throat.

“Oh, sweet girl,” I murmur, letting the words roll off my tongue as I reach up, my fingers brushing the side of her face. Her skin is warm beneath my touch, soft and delicate, and I let my hand settle there, cupping her cheek gently.

Her reaction is instant. She leans into my palm without hesitation, rubbing her face against it like she can’t help herself, her entire body shuddering with what looks like pure, unfiltered relief. It’s the kind of response that hits me deep, stirring something primal in my chest, and my purr rumbles through me, needing to calm her.

But then she realizes what she’s doing. Her eyes snap open, her lips parting in surprise as she jerks back, breaking the contact. She’s retreating again, those invisible walls slamming back into place, but this time, there’s no anger or sharp words. Just hesitation. Fear. She’s scared of how much she wants this, scared of how easily she let herself sink into me.

I sigh, letting my hand fall back to the table as I meet her gaze. “Koa, I don’t want you because of your scent. I don’t want you because of your body. I want you because every part of me is screaming to protect you, to cherish you, to make sure you never feel like this again.”

She blinks at me, her wide, teary eyes searching my face like she’s trying to find the catch, the hidden motive that doesn’t exist. I lean forward slightly, keeping my voice low enough so that it’s just for the two of us.

“All I want to do right now is wrap you up and take you home,” I continue. “I want to make sure you have everything you need, that you never have to feel scared or small or less than you are ever again. You’re not worthless because you can’t have children. It’s not about babies, Koa. It’s about you. You’re enough, just as you are. More than enough.”

That seems to break something in her. Her lips curve into the faintest smile, shaky and uncertain but real, and the sight of it nearly undoes me. Those glassy, teary eyes are looking at me with something that almost feels like hope and I’d give anything to see more of it.

Which is why I lean forward, my hand brushing her cheek again as I press the gentlest kiss to the corner of her lips. It’s light, barely there, but enough to leave my scent behind, a claim that’s subtle but impossible to ignore.

It’s a cheap move and I know it. But I also know she’s thinking about it. About me. About her alternatives—men like Damien, who would hand her off to careless, ruthless Alphas without a second thought. Men who see her as a commodity, not a person.

Still, I know I have to let her choose. Smothering her, forcing her hand, won’t get me anywhere. If I want her to come to me, it has to be her decision. And I’ll wait as long as it takes.

I lean back, giving her the space she needs, though every instinct in my body is screaming to keep her close. “It’s your choice, Koa. Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it.”

Koa doesn’t say anything, just looks at me as I stand, laying my rose atop the others. She brushes her fingers across where my lips met hers and I pray that at the end of the night, it’s me she chooses.