19. Brylee
19
brYLEE
I glance up at Kylian’s expression, his thick lips drawn taught over a clenched jaw. Nerves start boiling in my belly, and I’m not sure exactly how I feel right now. I’m literally in the arms of the one instructor at Eros who’s always been in my face, aggressively degrading “Teddie.” Out of all of Alpha Team X, he’s been the worst.
But now, he appears almost like a completely different person, and not just because he’s wearing a tux that looks amazing with his dark complexion. He’s clutching me to his chest as if I’m the most precious thing in the world. Gently but possessively, his fingers splay across my spine and the back of my thighs as he turns me into him, away from the Stirling alphas, fingers sweeping back and forth over my silky dress as if to soothe me.
His jacket slides as he adjusts me, and it sends a wave of fresh male alpha scent crashing over me, practically paralyzing me.
A part of me wants to shove my nose into the crook of his neck and just inhale endlessly, like a freak. But the other, more rational side of my mind is very aware that this tattooed man is capable of being a full-fledged asshole. I’ve been on the receiving end of his cruelty and mockery pretty much every day.
Fighting against the fluttering in my stomach, I wriggle against him. “Put me down.” The command comes out as a whimper more than the harsh dismissal I imagined inside my head. But maybe that’s a good thing because Kylian actually listens.
He lowers me to the dance floor but keeps his hands wrapped firmly around my waist. His brow furrows as he stares down into my face.
Clearly, he expected me to melt into a cuddle puddle at his claiming.
I’m not that kind of omega, buddy.
“What the hell, man?” Brock’s tone carries, and the gossip around us ceases as people’s heads turn, an entire circle of vulture-like onlookers forming instantly.
“She’s our scent match,” Kylian declares with utter confidence.
What the hell? Did dousing myself in perfume so strong that I can taste it have zero effect? Apparently.
“Really? Because she doesn’t look too happy to see you.” Jamie’s voice floats over my head from somewhere far closer than I would have expected, his sourdough scent filling my nose.
Did he step closer? Is the Stirling group about to throw down against Kylian over me?
A twisted little part of me must love that vision of the two groups squaring off, because my nipples tighten. I think the omegas around me must like the idea too, because the air is suddenly full of decadent perfume. It smells as if I’ve walked into a bakery. Sugary sweetness and cinnamon fill the air so thickly that I can practically taste it.
Sneaking a glance over Kylian’s shoulder, I see two omegas in ball gowns who are clutching their hands near their chests in obvious longing.
“Tell them.” Kylian spins me around to face Brock and company, his massive hands still planted on my waist in a claiming manner.
The other alpha group does indeed look ready to throw punches. Brock’s unbuttoning his tux jacket, Nic’s cracking his knuckles one by one, and Jamie’s eyes are locked on Kylian’s in dark challenge, war brewing in his eyes.
My throat dries out as my thighs tighten, and I discover a very, very new kink: violence.
Not against me. But over me.
I don’t want to be claimed at all, but I do want these men to fight for me. I want to watch their muscles bunch as they brawl and throw one another across the room, right into the punch bowl—splattering it everywhere. And then, once they’re wet, they’ll rip each other’s shirts off, leaving me with a view of washboard abs as they try to best each other.
What the hell, Bry? Where did that vision come from? You’re clearly fucked up.
But I can’t quash the naughty sense of temptation dancing on its tiptoes inside my stomach. That’s why I look up at Kylian and say, “Tell them what? That you’re delusional?”
It takes every ounce of willpower I have to manage a scoff. My lower belly is on fire, and I’m certain slick is about to flood my panties and trumpet my lie to the entire ballroom. It’s a good thing my bedroom eyes and my hooded disdainful look aren’t too far apart.
Luckily for me, the omegas nearby scenting the air seem to be hiding my own weakness.
“You heard the lady. She doesn’t smell a scent match. Now. Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her.” Nic steps forward with an authority I don’t expect.
Nic—the quiet one from Brock’s group. Now, my favorite. He grabs my hand and pulls.
Kylian yanks me back into his body, and my hand brushes an area that no proper omega should ever brush in public. My cheeks burn, and there is absolutely no chance of stopping the first bit of slick from soaking my panties.
He’s hard.
So hard.
And so big.
I breathe through my mouth in an attempt to quell the scents making me drunk against my will, and then I snap my hips into Kylian, startling him off balance and giving myself just enough room to glide over to Nic and take his hand.
“Dance with me?” I ask the startled alpha as I pretend to be oblivious to the snarling asshole behind me.
Nic’s free hand glides around my waist as he deftly spins me away from the brewing fight and into the parade of waltzing dancers. Against my better judgment, I find myself glancing over at Kylian, who’s being forcefully held back by Brock and Jamie. It’s impossible to keep the smug amusement off my face.
“So…he’s not your fated mate? Jealous ex?”
Scent matches are, of course, not technically fated mates. That doesn’t exist in real life. However, scent matches are considered to be the perfect complement. Every omega only receives one scent match in their life, and vice versa with each alpha group. I secretly believe that scent matches are just biology’s way of saying you’d make cute babies together.
My teeth sink into my lower lip as I debate what to tell him. But the doors to the ballroom smash open then, making Madam Ellora and several other omegas shriek in fear and the band stop mid-song.
All heads turn to see a masked alpha enter. His all-white tux does little to nothing to soften the effect of his presence—perhaps because it just helps draw attention to the skull on his mask. Scandalized whispers whip through the room as the band resumes.
“You okay?” Nic asks quietly. Everything about him is warm and gentle and comforting—the way I always imagined an alpha should be. But, of course, fate couldn’t tie me to a man like that.
“I’m fine,” I squeak, though I’m clearly not, trying to duck down a tiny bit—regretting my heels, because Colter is nearly a head taller than anyone else in the room. He’s going to spot me any second.
And I doubt that huge alpha can be stopped as easily as Kylian was.
I doubt he can be stopped at all.
He’s a force of nature.
Fuck.
Just that thought about how dominant he is sends the sparks flying through my belly, flickering over my inner thighs. Heating my core.
Nic inhales sharply, and I glance up to see his eyes are dilated. His expression, however, is steady, not feral.
“Is that for him or me?” he asks.
A terrible, selfish part of me wants to lead him on and compliment him, use him as a barrier between myself and Alpha Team X. But that would be cowardly and wrong, and I just can’t bring myself to condemn this man. Even though he’s practically a stranger to me, I can sense the honor glowing within him like a light.
“I don’t want them to be my scent matches,” I whisper. “I don’t want any mates, much less scent matches.”
Nic tilts his head, considering my words, and I feel as though I just confessed to a crime. He looks like the judge and jury combined, and my heart seizes up at the thought that he’s about to pass judgment. I drop my eyes to the ground, dragging a trail over some of the grout lines in between the marble tiles.
“I can understand not wanting to be gifted to an alpha group,” Nic muses, one of his hands leaving my waist to rub at his jawline. “But why would you resist a scent match?”
My mouth opens and closes. Then it opens and closes again as I search for an explanation I can stomach giving him. Before I can answer, I hear Luka’s voice cut through the air behind us.
“Nic, get your hands off.”
His statement brings all my resentment crashing down at once.
I straighten my spine and level Nic with a penetrating stare. “Because I refuse to be mated to arrogant assholes who think they’re better than everyone else and treat my brother like shit.”
The side of Nic’s mouth ticks up in a grin. “Ah, so you want to see them humbled a bit.”
“A lot.”
A mischievous sparkle lights up in the alpha’s brown eyes as he says, “I think we can help with that.”