Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
brEE
The man in front of her is breathtakingly handsome.
Gorgeous, Bree’s mind supplies. He’s gorgeous.
Dressed in a fitted grey blazer, white button-up shirt and black slacks, he looks like he belongs anywhere but in the seedy basement of an abandoned prison.
Even though the lighting is poor, she can still appreciate his high cheekbones, full lips, and piercing eyes. His inky black hair is perfectly styled, except for one errant tuft that falls out of place on his forehead.
Alpha.
He’s looking at her like he’s in on a joke she’s not aware of, the corner of his lip quirking up. With his arms crossed, he leans casually against the wall, with a cocked, sculpted eyebrow. “Last time I checked, this was a male prison only.”
He’s pale, too, as if he only comes out at night.
Bree stares at him for far too long, caught between shock and shame at being caught. “I got lost,” she says lamely, her voice cracking.
He smiles this time, showing off perfect straight white teeth. “Lost,” he repeats slowly, delight simmering in his eyes. “You’re lost.” His voice is almost a purr with how the words roll off his tongue. “Well, it’s a good thing I found you, then.”
She bites her lip, and his eyes focus on her mouth.
Everything about him screams danger.
No one else knows she’s here. He could do anything to her, and no one would know.
He moves off the wall, taking a step closer, and she takes one back.
“Wait. Hold on.” He stops and raises his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not here to hurt you, but I can show you the way out. Only if you want, of course. You’re welcome to stay here doing…whatever it is you’re doing down here.”
She swallows nervously. It’s not like she’s never seen an attractive Alpha before, but the effect he has on her is downright embarrassing.
Yes, he’s hot, and his outfit is tailored to perfection.
So what?
He glances curiously at the notebook at her side, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Are you a writer?”
She’s still caught off guard by his presence, and it takes her a moment to reply.
“I…yes,” she says. “I’m a journalist.”
“Ah. So, maybe you aren’t lost, then. You’re just trespassing.” The smirk returns to his face. “You’re just another person wanting to write about that tragic story.”
She scoffs. “Sure.”
“So, what do you think?” he asks softly.
“What do I think about what?” It takes all her willpower to maintain eye contact with him.
“Do you think he killed her?” He grins at his suggestion. “ Or do you think the social worker is still with him, somewhere on the run?”
He takes a step closer to her, and that’s when his scent finally hits her.
He’s citrus, sea salt, and everything that she wishes her mate would smell like. It’s welcoming, the slightest bit spicy, and absolutely delicious.
Her mating gland throbs underneath her sweater, and she’s mortified.
She needs to get out of here. Her five minutes are up.
“I don’t know.” Bree does her best to keep her voice even as his scent slowly invades the stale air. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“Hmm.”
Goosebumps raise on her arms. He won’t stop looking at her.
She doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like his attractiveness, or how good he smells, or how he just showed up out of nowhere in a thousand dollar wardrobe.
But to leave, she has to walk past him and through a long stretch of hallway.
In short, she’s fucked.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
An alarm sounds in her ears, and she jumps. He simply chuckles.
“Augh! What the hell is that?” she yells, covering her ears.
“I would assume that’s the alarm,” he says, loud enough that she can him hear over the shrill noise. “You should probably leave before the sheriff shows up. I doubt they’ll be as understanding as I am.”
She scowls at his arrogance.
“I can show you the way, if you’d like.”
The noise doesn’t seem to bother him at all, and she catches him laughing as she scrunches her face in displeasure .
“I know how to get out of here, thanks,” she snaps, and rushes past him, holding her breath.
She doesn’t want to smell him again.
“Of course, the trespasser knows her way out,” he calls after her, as she hurries down the hall. “What was I thinking?”
She breaks into a run, not caring if he sees. She races up the hallway and bursts through the double doors in the lobby, then hurries to her car in the parking lot.
Her hands don’t stop shaking as she drives back to the cabin. After locking the door, she runs upstairs to the bedroom. She pants as she sits on the mattress, adrenaline coursing through her.
“What the hell,” she gasps. “What the actual hell? ”
That Alpha was terrifying. He looked at her as if he knew her.
He looked hungry.
Suddenly, drunk Eugene isn’t as scary anymore.
She has a feeling she just encountered someone much worse.
Her mating gland still burns, and she takes off her sweater to pat at it gently. She hisses at the contact and decides to take another shower to calm herself.
But as she undresses, a pit of dread pools in her stomach.
Her panties are soaking wet.
And the worst part is that he’s the best smelling Alpha she’s ever encountered.
It’s the scent she hoped her mate would have.