Chapter 23
My heart slams against my ribcage as I pull into the first spot on the street I see, ignoring the electronic meter I’m meant to use to pay for using it.
I take off at a sprint toward the shop my phone says is a few blocks away.
I must look insane running down the city sidewalk in full business attire like someone is chasing me with a knife, dodging and weaving between people and narrowly avoiding crashing into a beta with an overloaded bag of takeout.
Who the fuck cares?
I need to get to her.
I was mid-meeting with the rest of my team when she called—our regular Friday sync that I swear my boss put there to torture people and force us not to leave early for the weekend.
When I saw Camille’s name light up my phone screen, I didn’t think about the consequences of abruptly shutting off my camera and muting myself, nor those of leaving with nothing more than a brief message in the chat to say I had an emergency and had to go.
With my luck, they’ll fire me.
But again, who the fuck cares?
Camille needs me.
The second I heard her quavering voice through the phone speaker, my alpha went into overdrive. No thoughts other than needing to get to my omega and make sure she’s safe. Even if that hadn’t happened, I’m not about to screw up her giving me a chance to be there for her.
Please let this be the right store, I think as I spot the sign a few doors down. There’s only one boutique that sells lingerie within a few blocks radius of Camille’s apartment, but I’m terrified I misheard her, and she’s somewhere else, frightened and in need.
As I approach, a giant of an alpha steps as if he’s going to get into my path to the door of the shop.
His petrol and rubber scent makes my nostrils burn as soon as I get within a few feet of him, and he’s got at least a hundred pounds and half a foot on me, but my alpha doesn’t back down.
My omega is in there. I’ll risk bodily harm from this behemoth to get to her.
The alpha crosses his arms and steps in front of me again as I step to go around him and open the door. “Shop is closed.”
“And you’re what, the bouncer?” I scoff, keeping my tone as cool and superior as possible.
He shakes his head.
I give him a withering look. “What then? Some pervert hoping to peep on omegas trying on underwear because he can’t get any on his own?”
A low growl erupts from the man, and he glares down at me like he’s a second away from beating my scrawny ass to a pulp, passersby be damned.
I won’t get past him with brute force. I could bark at him and hope my alpha is more dominant, but that’s a risk.
So I settle for using my professional attire to my advantage.
“If you don’t work here, get out of my way.
I have an appointment, and you don’t want to be the reason the pack I work for doesn’t get their omega the gift they’d promised. Ever heard of Pack Ashgrove?”
The thuggish alpha’s eyes widen.
“Of course you have.” Everyone knows about them; they’re one of the richest packs in the city and almost certainly tied to organized crime.
“Their omega is meeting me here in a few minutes, and I’d hate to tell them her experience was ruined by some dumbass lurking on the sidewalk and making her feel unsafe. ”
His eyes narrow, and after a moment of consideration, he huffs. “Fine, whatever. Bitch isn’t worth this shit.”
My blood freezes, and a growl rises in my throat. He’s talking about Camille.
The pieces fall into place far later than they should’ve, but my mind wasn’t working.
This fucker was waiting out here for my omega. He’s the reason she was frightened and shaking and calling me for help.
I see red, the fear I sensed through my bond with Camille coming into sharp relief.
Stepping closer, anger radiating off of me in waves, I lock eyes with the alpha, not caring that I have to tilt my head up.
My voice is deadly calm when I speak. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from this shop and the omega inside, and every other omega you see, because if you don’t, I will ruin you. ”
“W-what?” The alpha takes a half step back and my alpha’s dominance surges, bolstering me. Weak ass, disgusting creep.
“Did I stutter?”
Another step back as I crowd toward him, his eyes widening further. “Leave,” I bark.
He obeys, even though his body tenses as if he's trying to resist it, hurrying off down the sidewalk with a few glances back at me. I wait, watching him to make sure he doesn’t turn around and come back as I attempt to unclench my fists.
I can’t stop shaking from the confrontation, adrenaline and the need to get to my omega and hold her making it impossible to calm down.
Shit, I don’t want Camille to see me like this. I don’t want to scare her.
I force myself to breathe, holding it for a few seconds, then releasing it, then repeating. Reminding myself that I took care of the threat. That she’ll be okay.
It doesn’t help much, but I can’t stand waiting any longer. The door to the boutique is locked when I try the handle, so I knock on the glass. “It’s River,” I call out.
A few moments later, the door cracks open and a petite beta peers out at me warily, looking at the sidewalk behind me for the creep.
“He’s gone.”
They nod, their expression relaxing as they open the door for me to come inside.
They lock it behind me just in case, which I appreciate, but I don’t have time to thank them because I see Camille sitting across the room between a display of lacy lingerie sets.
A growl rumbles from me when I see how red and puffy her eyes are from crying, and how pale she is, and I rush over to her, my alpha needing to touch her and confirm she’s okay.
I freeze abruptly when I’m a foot away from her, arms half extended to reach out and haul her against my chest, realizing I don’t know if she wants me to touch her.
Her eyes shine in that moment of hesitation. “R-River.”
My name from her lips sounds so relieved that I can’t keep myself from going with my instinct, taking her hand and pulling her up into my arms. A ragged purr comes to life in my chest as I run my hands over her back and arms like my alpha is making sure she’s not injured, my cheek scent marking her hair to try to get rid of the clinging stench of the alpha from before.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
Camille shakes her head, her fingers gripping the back of my shirt, clinging to me like she’s worried I’ll tell her to let go. It makes my purr grow louder with satisfaction that I’m doing the right thing for my omega.
She wants me here, holding her and keeping her safe. I can feel it in the one-sided bond.
Still, I can’t help asking her, knowing that her instincts don’t always line up with what she’d normally want. “Is this okay?”
Camille pauses mid-scent marking my shoulder, pulling back enough to look up into my face. “Yeah.”
There’s a flicker of something behind her eyes, and god, I try not to use the bond to understand it, but I’m weak when it comes to her. I can’t hide my jolt of surprise when I find that the emotion she’s feeling as she looks at me isn’t wariness or discomfort, but empathy. For me.
This omega, who I’ve hurt deeply and who has just experienced another traumatic event, is looking at me like she wants to help take away my worries. If I weren’t already obsessed with her, there’d be no way to stop that after that revelation.
She’s too good for me, like the rest of the pack. But rather than let that thought make me want to shrink away in shame and inadequacy, it stokes the flame in me to be better for them.
We don’t speak for a long while, holding each other until our breathing evens out.
I forget about our surroundings until the sound of someone gently clearing their throat breaks the silence.
I clutch Camille tighter, my alpha worried about protecting her from a threat, and look over to see the beta giving us a sheepish smile.
“Sorry, we’ll go!” Camille says, her cheeks flooding with color. “Thank you so much for helping me.”
My defensive posture relaxes at her words, and I release Camille reluctantly as she pulls back to smooth down her shirt and wipe at her tear-stained cheeks. “Yes, thank you,” I rasp, going over to the beta to shake their hand.
“It’s the least I could do,” they say, attempting to shrug off my intense gratitude.
I don’t want to waste their time by arguing that a lot of people wouldn’t have been brave enough to stand up to an aggressive alpha. Instead, I glance around the shop, then back to them.
“Do you work on commission here?” I ask.
They blink at me for a moment, then understanding crosses their face. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary.”
“I know, but I’d like to. If you have a few extra minutes to take measurements, I’d like to order that pink one, that green and white one, and the strappy one in the corner.
” I point out the items, even knowing they probably cost more than a month’s rent at my new apartment.
An apartment I won’t be needing if things go well, so what better way to spend that money than on my omega and to show gratitude?
Camille’s eyes widen when she realizes what I’m doing. “I hope you’re ordering those for yourself because I don’t need…” Her eyes catch on the green and white floral embroidery on the sheer set beside her, and I swear I catch a hint of her perfume despite her scent blocker.
I shake my head, holding her eyes. “It’s not a matter of need. I want to get them for you.”
She swallows hard, her urge to refuse clearly warring with her omega’s pleasure at the prospect of the gift. “It’s too much.” The flush on her cheeks spreads down her throat.
It takes a moment for my brain to come on board and realize that offering to buy her lingerie comes with the implication that I’ll want her to wear it for me. Which of course I’d fucking want, but we’re not there yet.
“It’s not to wear for me,” I blurt.
Her brow creases as she frowns at my declaration.
Shit, I’m messing this up.
“I mean, it can be. If you want to. But I know we’re not…that you’re not…I want you to have something beautiful, with no strings or expectations attached. If you don’t want it, I’ll—”
“Okay,” Camille interrupts, a hint of a smile curving her lips as she watches me sweat and struggle to explain. She places a hand on my arm, and my stomach flutters as she gazes up at me with those deep hazel eyes. “Thank you.”
I get the sense she’s thanking me for more than the expensive gift. She’s probably only agreeing to that to shut me up.
“I’m sorry that—”
It’s my turn to interrupt her. I shake my head adamantly.
“You don’t need to thank me or apologize,” I say, willing her to understand that I’d do anything for her.
That I still have so much more I want to do to apologize to her.
That I’m not going to run again because I finally got it through my thick skull that it doesn’t matter that I don’t think I’m worthy of being with my pack or her because they’re the ones that get to decide that.
Camille sighs, but doesn’t argue.
Once her measurements are taken and I put an exorbitant deposit down on the custom order that has Camille attempting to protest the gift again, we exit the shop, me stepping out first to scan the street and make sure that alpha hasn’t returned.
When I’m certain there’s no danger, I let Camille come out, and we both thank the beta again as they lock up behind us.
We linger there, the awkwardness and discomfort of our history heavier now that we’re out in the open. I don’t want to leave her alone, but I doubt she’d want me coming up to her place yet.
“Have dinner with me.” I mean for it to come out as a question, but it sounds like a demand with how I blurt it. “If you want to,” I add quickly.
Camille chuckles at my grimace, and after a moment, in which I feel the swell of determination from her bond, she reaches out and threads her fingers with mine. “Okay. But I’m buying.”
I scowl at her, even as my heart expands at her touch. “No.”
She scowls back, though there’s no real anger in her expression. “Yes. You came out here to rescue me, then proceeded to spend an obscene amount of money on underwear because you felt bad. The least I can do is get you dinner.”
My frown softens, and I squeeze her hand. “Not only because I felt bad. I want to court you, Camille. I want you to know how serious I am about this. I’d buy you an entire damn shop full of underwear if it’d make you happy.”
Camille’s brow furrows, and in the bond there’s a hint of… annoyance? “You don’t need to buy my forgiveness.”
“I wasn’t trying to,” I protest.
She shakes her head at me. “Let me finish. You don’t need to buy my forgiveness, because, one, that wouldn’t work, and two, I’d never be able to buy yours in return. I’m too poor after months of not working.”
She chuckles, her tone light and not accusatory, but it makes my stomach clench unpleasantly.
I frown down at her. “I said you don’t need to apologize.”
“Yeah, well, I’m going to,” she huffs, her indignance so damn adorable it softens my concern.
“We need to clear the air between us if…” She squeezes my hand and swallows.
“If this is going to work.” Her lips take on a teasing slant, and she continues.
“And if you ever want to see me in that fancy lingerie.”