Chapter 17
seventeen
Xenia
There is pressure on my back, my arms, my chest. Comforting, warm.
I feel safe, secure, protected. Humming my pleasure, I relax further onto the alpha below me.
Luther.
The name suits him. He is a large, burly, older man. One arm is nearly the size of two of mine. It should terrify me, but it doesn’t. I recognized his scent when he gathered me up outside.
It was what brought me back down from the chaos in my own mind.
“Charles was your son?” I ask softly.
“My sister’s. When she passed, we took up the role as his fathers. We raised him as our own. Eventually, he even took on our last name by his own choice.” His voice is husky, the country drawl thick with emotion.
“What happened to him?” I can’t help myself. My curiosity is burning. Especially since it’s connected to the Rossis.
Pierce’s hand on my back strokes comforting circles.
“You asked if he’s dead. I imagine Wren told you he is.
For all intents and purposes, he is dead.
But the truth is, Charles is in hiding. Tucked away, awaiting the Rossis’ interest to die down.
He saw something he shouldn’t outside of First Chapter Clinic, and the Rossis have been after him ever since.
We haven’t been able to make contact—we don’t have a number to call him, but we know he’s safe. ”
My heart crawls its way up my throat and I choke on my next breath. “I’m sorry.”
I always knew Vinny was a bad guy, it’s why Tony kept me away from him. It’s why I had done all I could to maintain that distance.
“You have no reason to be sorry.” Luther squeezes me to him, pressing a gentle kiss on my forehead.
I think he means it to be friendly, but my traitorous body rolls against him. The scent-blockers, which had been doing their job so well, begin to fail as I perfume into the air.
I can tell when Luther scents me, his entire body freezing, a low growl reverberating between us.
“Pierce, you need to leave. Now.”
Turning to him, I catch his charcoal eyes, see the question swirling in their depths. But then he realizes exactly why.
His already dark irises turn nearly black, bleeding into his pupils. His hand on my back digs into the fabric of my shirt.
“Leave!” Luther barks. “You can’t handle this. You haven’t been around a perfuming omega.”
The bark causes both Pierce and me to jump. But it works.
Pierce snaps to his feet, retreating quickly out the door, offering me one last indescribable look as he slams the door shut.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Juniper and…sweet and tart and citrussy. Not quite orange.”
“Blood orange is the closest.” I watch him. “You are all scent matches. I did my best to not react to Wren and Pierce, but my body was propelling me towards both.”
“You scented me at the clinic.” It isn’t a question.
“You made sure I did.” Mine isn’t either.
Luther laughs, but then his molten eyes narrow. “The water is getting cold. I just wanted you to warm back up. Why were you out there in the snow?”
I glance around the room, anywhere except him. I land on the window across from the tub, outside is their farm, covered in white.
Snow.
And it’s still falling.
In Florida.
“Am I even awake? I feel like this has to be a dream. Even on the way here I never thought I would find you. And then Wren said Charles was dead and I thought—I thought—”
Luther attempts not to react, but I can tell how much it has upset him. “You thought I was dead. The one who you met at the clinic. But why are you here now? What changed?”
“I’m—I’m—I’m—”
Luther allows me to stutter, but doesn’t press me for an answer, instead he helps us out of the tub. He pulls a fluffy towel out from under the sink and wraps me in it.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to answer me right now. There isn’t any rush. You’re here and that’s all that matters.”
“But Wren doesn’t want me here?” The towel is thick and plush as I slip off Pierce’s shirt.
“He doesn’t know what he wants.” Luther quirks his lips. “You’re beautiful. I knew that when we first met, but seeing you now? It’s mesmerizing. And I shouldn’t want you. I could be your dad.”
“I’m twenty-six.” His words cause my agitation to prickle up. He isn’t the first to call me young. To point it out as a weakness.
“It’s not bad that you’re young. Pierce and Wren are in their thirties, but I’m forty.”
My hair has fallen from the buns I put it in, and he tucks the wet strands behind my ears, cupping my cheeks. He presses delicate kisses across my face.
“You are young and beautiful. Painted in freckles and love.”
The word love startles me. I came here because I am pregnant. Not because I want to be with him.
They are scent matches. He is the father of my unborn child.
Luther is kind, sweet, he is everything I have ever wanted.
But I don’t deserve him.
And then there’s Tony.
Grief and guilt are two heavy weights in my shoulders, compressing me further and further into the ground.
“I can’t do this. It’s too much. When the snow clears I need to leave.” I don’t look him in the eyes as I speak the words levelly.
I don’t deserve to live my happily ever after. I am a broken omega. He deserves someone better.
I will tell him about his child once they are born. It will make this easier. I can manage it alone.
“No.”
The word causes my head to jerk up.
Luther moves his hand slowly, allowing me time to tell him to stop.
I don’t.
He cups my cheek. “I let you push me away the first time. I won’t allow it again.”
My mind is muddled, my heart a pulverized mess.
“Not unless you truly mean it. Do you want to leave, Omega? Do you want to run from me again?”
He must have been able to recognize my entire body yearning for him.
Because it does. My entire being reaches for him. Our time in that clinic was unforgettable…no matter how much I had tried to do just that.
Forget it.
The relief I felt when I realized I was in fact pregnant.
An excuse to break the anonymity. To run and find him.
“Your pack doesn’t want me,” I say as an excuse. One last ditch effort to widen the space between us. “The Rossis are after your son.”
“They do. They just don’t know it yet.” Gingerly, he swipes his thumb across my lips, pressing down on my bottom. “Xenia, you are ours. We will keep you safe. No matter what.”
Breathing a few times, I attempt to calm the rapid beating of my heart, to allow his tone and scent to comfort me. And they do. Except there’s a terrifying thrum that strums just beneath the surface.
If Vinny tracked my location, and I’m sure he did, he would know the general area of where I am. He would come looking for me here. And maybe he can’t now because of the snow, but it wouldn’t stop him for long.