Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
SIMONA
I think I float all the way back to Unity. Not because Ryder arranges a private charter, but the memory of our time has me blitzed out the entire flight back.
Waiting for my bags, I check in with the girls, half disappointed, half relieved to see that both Tristan and Raney are away and won’t be back for a few more days. Heidi’s last message shows she’s back, but when I push the door open to our unit, I know I’m the only one home.
The sitting room lights are on, but there’s a note on the kitchen bench.
Sim, sorry I’m not here to hear all about how amazing you were at Rejoice.
I’ve been summoned by the board. I’d like to tell them to kiss my ass, but I can’t. Yet. And I’ll probably be away for a couple of days…
There’s food in the fridge, and I paired the wine to match— please have a glass or three for me. Love you. I really am sorry I’m not here to see you. XX H
“Goddamn it, Ho, you made me cry,” I confess as I leave a message on her phone before getting serious. “Thank you for leaving me dinner. If you want me, just call and you know I’ll be there. Can’t wait to see you.” A million other things dance through my thoughts, but I chicken out telling her any and hang up.
As I wait for the shower to steam up, I mull over what I could share with the girls. I mean, I swore Hendrix to secrecy, so I can’t tell them about him. Ryder seems to live the same way—guarded and private, even performing behind a mask—so spilling the truth about him is off the table. But as the thought lingers, I realise something else: I don’t want to share. Not a word. I want them both to be mine, and mine alone, something just for me.
As I undress, I keep Ryder and Hendrix in the forefront of my thoughts. I fixate on the small details—Hendrix’s habit of rubbing his thumb and index finger together when he talks, the countless variations of Ryder’s smirk, each distinct and unmistakable. Those fragments of them stay with me, offering a strange kind of comfort as I take stock of each mark Brody left behind.
I knew this run-in with him wasn’t his worst. The frenzy was just that, but it also meant in the wild flurry his punches lacked their usual intensity. The lack ofinjury doesn’t detract from the humiliation and horror of being beaten. My tears wash down the drain, and the emotional release is as soothing as the shower itself.
Still craving comfort, I decide upon a cute set of pyjamas Tristan left on my bed—fuzzy socks included. And once my hair is done, I feel more settled, but I’m not in the mood to chat. Instead, I shoot texts to Ryder and Hendrix, letting them know I got home safe and sound, and that I’ll call in the morning.
Ryder texts back almost immediately with an address for the law office of the person he wants me to speak with. An appointment first thing in the morning sounds brutal but after reading the other messages and emails I’ve missed since being at Rejoice—most particularly the one from my family, and Brody’s, advising I have an upcoming gynaecologist appointment—it’s an easy decision to attend.
Sleep is easy, and it helps that I wrap myself in my favourite itchy blanket. And my calm continues as I get ready in the morning.
Stepping on to the street, the guards Hendrix arranged wave me a good morning from their booth and I set off in the opposite direction. Within a block, I’m joined by a couple who trail behind me looking like they’re off for breakfast, but I recognise the driver from the night at Noire so I already know it’s Hendrix’s people.
They stay at a respectable distance as we walk from one side of the city to the other, and when I buzz to be let into the office, they take a seat at the coffee shop across the road.
As I push through the main doors and into the dark foyer, there’s a realisation whoever I’m meeting might be the only one in the office. If I wasn’t so worried about the upcoming doctor’s appointment, I’d probably walk out the door. Before I can, the unthinkable happens.
He approaches. And that of course is no surprise, given our appointment. Yet it’s not the sight of him that catches me off guard. It’s his scent that I recognise immediately. After all, burying my face in the blanket covered by his scent is the only way I can fall asleep.
“Sorry to have kept you,” he says as he walks down the hall towards me. But by the way he speaks I can tell he hasn’t seen me .
I should answer but I’m spellbound. Completely and utterly lost really in the magic of his scent. His unique perfume curls around me like a house cat scent marking. And while my blanket carried his scent, in the flesh, it robs me of coherent thought.
All except one— scent match —bounces on an infinity loop in my head, and my heart. And while I knew his unique perfume was akin to the scent of a new book, standing directly in front of him is like being dragged into the bud of a flower where each petal has its own fragrance. There are certainly sweet notes but that’s like saying chocolate is chocolate. I could spend hours figuring out each alteration of vanilla, florals, and almonds or I could simply say—he smells divine—like paper and ink, printing and binding—a book written just for me.
I seriously have to fight not to close the distance between us. If I move an inch, I’m sure it would only be to drag my nose over every inch of his skin to find my favourite place on him.
And while I’m dealing with the impact of finally meeting the Alpha who has been a constant presence since I left the airport in Denver, it seems he might also be a little thrown.
He was distracted before, but when he notices me, the paper he was reading slips from his fingers and flutters to the floor.
It feels like the whole world comes to a grinding stop. In that strange space all he can do is stare. A hundred emotions dance in his eyes, making the brown of them change like the seasons.
The shadows hid him well before, now in the light though he is exactly how I imagined him. He is older than me, perhaps even older than Hendrix. His eyes are captivating and hard to look away from. But I do, because he is no longer this figment of my imagination and that blows me away .
If I had to guess, I’d say he was of European descent, Italian maybe. His deep golden tanned complexion only confirms his heritage, but so does his dark brown hair. The way it is styled, so precisely, is in line with his grooming. Never have I been into facial hair, but by god, on him I am. His features are entirely masculine; he is every inch an Alpha and by the raging hot yo-yoing of my emotions, I’d say he was literally made for me. I have to bite my lip not to pine out loud for him.
When I finish my very obvious ogling of his body, I’m drawn back to his eyes. And they’re locked on me. The shock from before has intensified in them.
“It’s you.”
He barks, but his voice is like being dipped in a pool of warm silky ribbons—luxurious and lush. It has all those lust-filled thoughts of mine escalating into need, making me leak perfume and blush profusely. Effectively answering him without uttering a word.
He releases a slow, exaggerated exhale—long and deliberate. Whether intentional or not, his breath carries his scent directly to me, wrapping around my senses and sending me tumbling through the implications of who he is, over and over.
My body responds in spades, slick pooling in my panties and even more of my scent misting the air between us.
He makes another strained noise in the back of his throat. My overactive brain twists it into something between a purr and a low rumble—a sound both primal and beautiful, an Alpha’s call resonating through an Omega’s core. The vibration seems to stoke the heat flickering beneath my skin, awakening something I wish would stay dormant. But I know that wasn’t his intention. He made his feelings clear when he never reached out after the car incident. Still, my body doesn’t seem to care about that rejection. But it needs to. I have to remember—he left me because he didn’t want me.
I slam my eyes shut. I’m stronger than this—years of pretending not to be affected by others should count for something. With my vision cut off, it’s easier to slip into the familiar illusion that he isn’t real. Just another dream.
I fumble a step away as I dig deeper inside myself, becoming Simona Vanderling the Omega promised to Brody Henderson. I can be that person, but I’m not sure I could do anything but fall apart completely if I hear the Alpha in front of me reject me in any way, shape or form.
“What the hell are you doing?” he snaps.
Without opening my eyes, I reply softly, “Finding out again that I should give myself more credit.”
There’s that same noise from before, and without looking, I can tell he swipes his hand over his face. I take another step, but he interrupts my escape. “You’re Sin?”
I bite my lip to stop myself from screaming back, Isn’t me being yours more important? When I finally find my voice, it’s thin and shaky—barely a whisper. Embarrassingly weak. “Simona Vanderling.”
He comes nearer. I don’t need to open my eyes to know. His presence presses down on me, heavy and palpable—almost as real as his touch would be.
“You’re Simona Vanderling?”
It comes out like a question but at the same time it’s not because I already told him my name.
I feel stupid walking backwards with my eyes shut, but it doesn’t mean I stop doing it. Digging deeper into my survival instincts, I manage another step—only to bump into the office door. I fumble to find the handle, finally curling my fingers around the cool metal. But before I can turn it, his voice cuts through the air, freezing me in place.
“Are you far? I need you to come back immediately. ”
A voice echoes, and I realise he’s not speaking to me. He’s on his phone.
“Make it one minute.”
And then he doesn’t make another sound, but likewise I don’t move an inch. We stand together in frozen silence, and it should fill me with panic, but it doesn’t. By the time the first thirty seconds have passed, my intense reaction to him shifts, and for the rest of the time we wait, I’m waylaid by a deep peace that radiates out from the very core of who I am.
The range and depth of my emotions and confusion seems to get swept up into that pause again, like when I first saw him. I wish I knew what was going on and why I can’t find the will to open the door and leave.
Somewhere behind me, a noise intrudes on the gentle peace we somehow share. Heavy, hurried footsteps pound against the floor, their urgency sending a wave of tension through my muscles. Instinct coils tight within me, though I’m not sure what I’m bracing for.
Then, overlapping the footsteps, there’s another sound—a sliding scrape against the floor. I glance down, startled, to see a phone lying there, screen alight and ringing.
“Dom? Is everything okay? Did Sin make it?”
Ryder’s voice floats upwards at the same time as another familiar voice starts behind me. “Simona?”
Hendrix.
“What is going on?” I ask but at the same time Ryder and Hendrix also speak, voicing the same question.
“I found her,” the Alpha I’m meant to be meeting says.
Nothing makes sense.
I crouch down to pick up the phone, my pulse jumping when I see Ryder’s face on the screen. Instinctively, I curl around it as if holding Ryder himself. His voice crackles softly, muffled against my chest.
“Hey, Sin, you okay? ”
I shake my head, confirming I am not okay. I’m really confused, but I’m also really scared of what’s happening. I’m quickly putting together the evidence in front of me, but accepting the truth might take a little time.
Hendrix’s scent wraps around me barely a second before his arms do. He envelopes me, holding me against his chest, giving me another anchor, another haven from the chaos. “You’re okay, I promise.”
He cups the back of my head and holds me tighter.
“Sin, this is a beautiful twist in our story,” Ryder adds, and I lose the stranglehold I have so I can see the screen.
Hendrix turns me away from the door until I am facing the Alpha again. My eyes are locked on Ryder’s though, I need the reassurance I find in them for a little longer.
“That’s Dominic. And by the shock on your face, which I myself have seen before when we first met, he’s your scent match. Right?”
I shake my head—barely noticeable, or so I think. But apparently not, because Hendrix presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head. Which doesn’t go unnoticed by Ryder.
“And Sin? That Alpha currently wrapped around you is Hendrix Torres, right? The strange thing is I know him. Intimately. The three of us have shared with each other endless things about you.”
The Alpha that Ryder called Dominic shuffles purposely, and I look at him. His brown eyes are riddled with worry but also relief.
“I never stopped looking for you. Ask Ryder or Hen, if you’d like the details, although some of what I did in my attempt to locate you wasn’t pretty. I had to let you go, but it was only ever going to be until I found you again. And I would have. You needed medical attention, and I had to be somewhere else that would not have been safe for you. The only reason I got out of that car was so you’d get the car you needed. You have been with me every moment since.”
Everything they’re saying is easy to understand, but at the same time the implication of what they’re saying is overwhelming to say the least. My chin wobbles, mirroring the tidal wave of emotions building inside. And when tears start to track down my cheeks no one makes me feel like an idiot. Hendrix squeezes me tighter; Dominic’s eyes fill with concern, and Ryder’s reassurance rings in my ears until I get a grip. On my chin at least.
After a few long seconds, Hendrix’s strong voice fills the void. “It seems we’ve all found our perfect Omega without realising we’re all completely smitten with the same beautiful woman.”