Chapter 26
chapter
twenty-six
It’s never appealed to me, this game.
I find it tedious and immature. People are suffering. And these “public servants” stand around boardrooms, eating exquisitely catered meals and measuring their dicks.
Figuratively.
There are actually more women in here this year, and a couple of gender-fluid representatives, which pleases me. What good is the concept of representation if elected officials don’t reflect the people they serve?
Unfortunately, there isn’t a whole lot of public service happening in here at the moment. Plenty of bagels being eaten, though.
The cogs of government move slowly. It can be painful to watch. But I have a plan, and it’s working. If I can just convince?—
Fuck .
The hole drilled into my middle has been plaguing me since I opened my burning eyes at four-thirty this morning. Dr. Monroe told me to expect the pain. He said it would only grow the further I get from the omega.
My bedroom is right on top of hers, so it didn’t really start to pull from a dull throb into a sharp, piercing tug until I left the townhouse. Ever since, I’ve walked around the capitol building with a crease between my eyebrows, playing off the discomfort as a bad mood.
It’s bizarre to be so fundamentally changed and not have anyone notice. They can’t see the steel cord sewn into my center. There are no bite marks for them to smirk at, no changes in my scent.
Although, if the half-bond has changed Serena’s scent, I can’t sense it. When I walked into the kitchen this morning, mouthwatering paradise perfume still spun through the air. And when I loitered outside her bedroom for twenty minutes before tearing myself away, she certainly smelled just as irresistible as ever. Even through the fucking walls .
Jesus .
According to the brief research I managed to conduct last night, there’s a chance other alphas won’t be quite as attracted to her… but she’ll only continue to smell more appealing to us . Her pack.
Oh—shit.
Out of nowhere, dazed panic spears me. Serena’s.
She must be remembering where she is. And why .
The next burst is a tangled jumble. I only get a few seconds into untying it before our breakfast meeting is called to order.
I’m the host, technically, meaning I have to sit at the head of the table and look formidable. Which isn’t fucking easy with all of Serena’s fear and shame seething in my stomach.
It reminds me of last night in her room. The way she kept her features smooth while her insides heaved .
Because of me.
There’s no context for it now, but I can guess why she’s scared. It would be terrifying for an omega to wake up in a strange house and remember all of the things that happened to her yesterday.
Still, the shame doesn’t make much sense to me.
At first.
“Senator?”
An alpha woman who represents the Sixth District stares at me expectantly, her heel tapping against the floor. The rest of the table has turned in my direction, too. I ignore the sensations squirming low in my abdomen and flip open my tablet.
Some aide uploaded our agenda, thankfully. I only have to speak for a few moments and flex a bit of my force before I can turn the floor over to the beta man who runs District 17.
Which is fortunate. Because the reason for Serena’s embarrassment and self-loathing is suddenly— viciously —clear.
Heat impales my groin and pulses . Waves of warmth and a shivery, vibrating need that instantly floods my cock with boiling blood. It hardens along my inseam, jerking so hard I’m surprised the stiff material doesn’t rip.
I nearly double over in my chair. A grunt sloughs out of me. The entire room of state representatives turns to stare.
Fucking hell .
My scent blasts up several notches, along with the air of dominance I’ve done my best to cultivate. There’s nothing subtle about it now. Instead, it’s a blanket of steel, suffocating the entire room.
My Alpha is off his leash. Feral .
And confused . The poor, stupid bastard. Pumping out pheromones for his omega, not understanding why we can sense her need if we aren’ t with her.
I barely manage to throw my entire weight at that flimsy internal door, holding all of my feelings in my own body instead of funneling them down the frayed, throbbing connection between us.
District 17 starts backtracking, nervously mopping at his sweaty forehead while he stammers. The rest of the room holds its breath, assuming anger is the reason for the noticeable shift in my mood.
I let them believe it. If I’m going to pass this Workplace Protection Act, I have to be extremely careful about the way I introduce Serena to the world.
The second she’s seen in public with my claim on her? People will assume she’s ours. Mine . Which will officially make me “biased” about omegas and their rights.
I’m not sure it would have been better if we’d courted publicly prior to this clusterfuck. It would have made news of our “bonding” less shocking, but courting would have given the media and political pundits plenty of time to poke holes at the concept.
She would have been subject to severe scrutiny. She still will be; possibly more than usual, if anyone catches wind of where we met. Or how we met.
Goddamn it .
I spent most of the night wondering if I should tell her what’s at stake here. She seems bright and sweet—she might understand if I tell her. Jonah seems to think so. Avery thinks I’m an asshole for caring about anything other than the woman I took a bite of.
And Spencer is probably halfway to insanity at this point.
“Senator?”
Motherfucking hell .
I’m flooding this room with pheromones. Aggression and need, all tangled and twisted around the roots of regret. Remorse. And this pulling, piercing pain .
Whatever Serena is doing, the arousal only rises. Higher and hotter and harder. Blood pounds in my ears, echoing the angry thump in my dick. I have to cover it up, keep anyone from getting suspicious.
Playing my pain off as disapproval, I make my face as severe as the stab in my center. “Yes?”
Whoever dared to summon me falls silent. Tension stretches over the table, but I can’t really feel it—because the pressure pulling at my groin doubles .
Goddamn it .
I could close her out. I’ve learned how to do it, but I chose to keep the passage from her to me unobstructed, needing to know she was okay. Trying to give her space without abandoning her.
But if I shut that final door, there’s no guarantee she won’t notice when I go to reopen it later.
And I won’t risk losing this connection to her.
Even if it means I’m about to lose control of my baser urges in a boardroom full of important people.
One of my aides wades into the fray, coming to murmur into my ear. I can’t hear what she says, too focused on the way her hand lands on my arm and the sudden, insane urge to rip it off .
She’s a beta, but the synthetic omega perfume she has on makes me see red. How dare she taint the scent of Serena that’s clinging to my jacket? Why does she think she can touch me?
My Alpha bucks and strains against his binds, desperate to roar in this woman’s face. Tell her all about the omega setting our blood on fire. Make sure no one else ever touches what’s hers .
But I’m Tristan Thorne.
It takes longer than usual to remind myself why that matters, to keep from losing my shit. Instead, I roll back from the table and smoothly stand.
I can’t stay long enough to come up with an explanation. Let the perfumed beta deal with that. I need to ? —
My polished shoes eat up the hallway. I clip into my office and growl something about not being disturbed, unsure who’s even there to listen or follow my orders.
Not caring .
Beyond the ability to care.
I flick the lock and stride to my desk, ripping at my belt as I go. My pants bunch around my quads while I shove them down, freeing my throbbing erection.
It bobs upright, curving to reach my navel, forcing me to pull my shirttails up before they get smeared with pre-cum.
A bolt of relief sails up into my stomach. For a moment, I don’t know if it’s mine or Serena’s.
When I go still, my hand hovering beside my cock instead of grasping it the way I want to, I know for sure. It’s her, not me.
And if the accompanying notes of confusion and desperation are any indication, she isn’t alone.
One of the guys has her.
Fucking hell, but why does that make the pain worse ?
Or better, really. The vicious pulse pounding in my cock kicks up, inflating my knot. Until I’m sure that, even if I just stand here and watch my package twitch and swell, I’ll end up coming all over my desk.
I consider it. Consider waiting, watching what the little omega can do to me without even realizing.
But then she sends a lick of languid heat through the bond.
My control shatters.
I press one palm along my hot, pulsing length and use the other to squeeze my screaming knot. The wetness seeping from my cockhead lets me glide in and out of my fist without resistance.
I imagine Serena’s slick, her swelling scent. A growl snags in my heaving chest. My knot expands, pushing through my kneading fingertips, growing heavier in my hand.
Fuck, she would take me all the way down to the root. Squeeze me and slip against me again and again and ag ? —
My entire core flexes as a rough roar bursts from my lungs. Scalding pleasure washes over the pain pulling at my middle, whiting it all out for one blissful moment. I squeeze myself tightly, imagining her body strangling everything I have …
…and come all over the polished mahogany in front of me, shooting thick ropes of white across the dark wood desk.
Dragging in a shuddering breath, I close my eyes and drop my head, trying to come down from my climax.
But the painfully incomplete tether in my center rips at my insides. And Serena isn’t done. Her arousal assails me all over again, sending trembling jerks through my spent dick, drawing my aching balls up even harder .
So we can start all over again.