Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Playing: No One Else by Midnight Blu
“Did you know that a woodpecker’s tongue is wrapped all the way around its brain to protect it from all the pecking?”
I choke on my mixed drink and look at Opal amidst my coughing fit. “What?” I ask as I try to get my bearings.
“Their tongues are long as fuck and protect their brains inside their skulls,” she replies nonchalantly before taking a sip of her own concoction.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that, too,” Ciro chimes in, already lit from the shots we did earlier. “And it’s forked so it can cover more area.”
I gag.
“There’s no way that’s a real thing.” Stacia looks over at her prime. “Right?”
Atlas laughs into his cup. “I’m not going to be the one to burst your bubble, angel.”
Well, that does it. Woodpeckers are officially on my banned animal list. They are no longer allowed within ten feet of me.
We all continue to mingle on the side of the room.
Some people are dancing, but the real dancefloor is a room over.
I’m trying not to think about what happened the last time I was on a dancefloor, how Dax had me holding on to each and every word, how I almost lost my will.
And how I’m also on that same verge tonight.
All three alphas look ridiculous but also extremely attractive in their costumes.
I love when someone can be silly and dress up, not take themselves too seriously.
I always knew Dax had an enormous personality and a stellar sense of humor, but I wasn’t expecting Jett and Everett to look so comfortable in their outfits… and with each other.
I know they’re a new pack but I can already see the camaraderie between them. I think my secret is out of the bag, too, because they didn’t act surprised to see me earlier. Dax didn’t try to introduce me to his new pack mate, and the look in his eye let me know how he feels about the situation.
“Who is that?” Opal’s question pulls me out of my thoughts. I look in the same direction but can’t seem to figure out exactly who she’s referring to. There’s so many goddamn people in here.
Stacia smiles big. “That’s Sam’s scent match, Kit.”
I freeze but control my face as much as I can before it’s noticeable. I turn my gaze over to my fiery-haired friend to—discreetly—make sure she’s okay but she’s just staring in the same direction. Her eyes are glazed over, her chest rising and falling as she watches the other omega.
“He’s dressed as Gojo,” she says in a hushed tone. At first I think she’s talking to me, but then her laser focus makes me think the observation was just for herself .
I raise my brow, going for something light. “Is that an anime character?”
She doesn’t say anything. When she finally looks at me, her eyes are wide. “I’ll be right back,” she says before excusing herself and walking in the opposite direction of Sam’s mate.
No one seems bothered by Opal’s abrupt goodbye. They continue to drink and laugh; Stacia is now showing Kendall videos on her phone, Ciro is explaining what Choripan is to one of their frat brothers, while Uriah and Atlas are discussing something with Sam to the side.
I feel parched all of a sudden, so I leave to seek out the kitchen. It’s way more crowded than it was earlier, but I get to the fridge easily enough and pull it open to get some cold water.
“He’s seriously so cute,” someone says as they pass me. Whoever is with them nearly body checks me, but I just close the fridge to make more room.
“He can flog me with that whip anytime,” the person who almost ran into me replies. Wait, what? My head pivots in their direction. They’re wearing short dresses, wings, and little halos; one in white and one in black.
“Maybe we can give him a late birthday present,” her friend replies conspiratorially.
I feel a tiny omega growl come up my throat at their scheming confession. I thought maybe I was being obtuse, but they are definitely talking about Dax. Disrespectfully so.
“He practically told us to get lost earlier though.”
“I don’t care. Rumor has it that he’s been celibate for months. I bet I can get him to end that streak.”
“What about his new pack mate? He has hair that I’d love to stick my fingers into. Do you think they’d be up for a three-way?”
The desire to punch the churlish beta comes on strong. I turn and walk away quickly, not wanting to be anywhere near that conversation.
Is Dax celibate? I remember him telling me at that party a month ago that he couldn’t touch anyone else, that he needed my scent to have any relief. I squeeze my thighs together at the thought of it, at the thought of him waiting for me.
I’m not sure about Everett, but Jett said he would wait on me to catch up, and Dax said he couldn’t be with anyone else.
Will they tire of waiting? Maybe I should be more wary of those girls and the probability that he won’t wait forever.
They’re offering him something he can have tonight .
A late birthday present, they said. While the omega that’s destined to be his mate is downstairs, refusing to speak to him over stubbornness and unrelated trauma.
I can’t stand the thought of him touching anyone. My omega childishly makes me think of the possibility and it makes me hiss in the middle of this hallway. “Oh, dude, I fucking get it. No need to play mind games,” I whisper to myself.
A person nearby gives me a weird look. I scowl at them and then rush up the stairs, desperate to get away from literally everyone. This house suddenly feels too constricting, like all the air is being stolen from my lungs as I search for a place of reprieve.
Am I feeling jealous right now? Is there a green monster invading my chest? I don’t have the right to be jealous, not when I keep pushing them away.
But the thought of giving in, to bonding to alphas, makes my head spin uncomfortably. The barks, the dominating, the control . I hear my mother’s voice in my head.
I won’t ever be over this, and they’re going to find someone else. They’ll find a mate and that person won’t be me.
It’s almost empty when I get upstairs, but there’s still a few people lingering, going in and out of bedrooms. A few frat dudes look at me weird but don’t say anything.
Good. I’m not in the fucking mood.
I open up the closest door, hoping it’s a bathroom. And it is , thank god.
But I’m also not alone.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say as the heavy door shuts behind me.
“You’re not who I expected either, love.” Dax wipes off his hands, having just washed them. “Do you normally burst into lit-up bathrooms without knocking?” he asks, a beautiful smile taking up most of his face.
His tone is playful, but the embarrassed—and panicked—side of me bites back. “Do you normally forget to lock the door?”
He gives a low laugh, the deepness of it going right between my legs. “Considering this is the upstairs bathroom and non-members aren’t allowed up here during parties, I didn’t really think it’d be an issue.”
I stick my nose in the air, trying to hide how bothered I was moments ago. “You should definitely still lock the door. Are you frat guys really so considerate that you always knock?”
Dax grins and something flutters in my stomach. I hate his blond hair and how model-esque he always looks. I especially hate the way it looks in that stupid fucking hat.
“I think you forgot that Sam runs this frat. We’re a little bit better than the stereotype.”
“I was referring to you all being men ,” I retort.
Dax walks a little bit closer, and the proximity of his dark cherry scent sends me into shock. It’s pouring out, soaking us in its bitterness. He reaches behind me, leans over so we’re face to face, and turns the lock. “Better?”
His eyes stay on mine, and I’m willing myself to not do it but I lose the battle and look down at his lips. They’re pulled into a smirk, and the cockiness of it should turn me off but the omega inside me is beside herself with joy.
I freak out over the feeling of being out of control and unlock the door again, but keep it closed. He gives me a tiny nod, subtly telling me that he will respect my boundary.
Shit, I don’t even want to respect my boundary.
“Are you okay, Rory?” he asks sincerely.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I try to smile casually, and because the silence is scary, I say, “There’s a few angels downstairs talking about you.”
His eyes widen as I cringe. Before I can say nevermind, he says, “Those are sorority girls from Beta Gamma. Their president is helping Sam with our benefit this month.”
I nod, embarrassment reflecting on my cheeks. “They weren’t really talking about business, but sure. You are the social chair.”
His face turns serious. It’s a foreign look for him that I haven’t seen very often, but something about it sends a shiver down my spine. He leans in close. “I don’t want an angel. Do you know what I want?”
I swallow roughly. “What?”
His eyes trail over my face, like he’s memorizing every detail of it. “The goddess of the underworld.”
My breath hitches. “She’s not a very soft choice.”
His hand raises and I let him brush a finger at my jaw with the most gentle, feather-like touch. “I don’t want soft.”
It’s like a rubber band snaps as I close the space between us.
The reasons not to were heavily outweighed by the demanding desire throughout my entire body.
His lips move over mine and there’s not a second of awkward fumbling or trying to get in the groove, we fall right into it like it’s second nature .
One of his arms skates around my back and pulls me into him, leaving me flushed against him.
Every muscle that I’ve tried hard not to think about for months is now pressing against me in the most delectable way.
I moan in my throat and open my mouth for him when I feel his tongue swipe across my lower lip.
I’m putty in his hands, and I can’t find a single logical reason to stop it.