Chapter 12
ELI
Jess rounds the corner and crashes into me.
“Jess—hey.”
Gasping, she jerks back like I burned her. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“You okay?” I keep my voice low. Calm. Neutral. The same tone I used back in Nexus when the Omegas came out of sedation and didn’t know where they were.
“Fine.” Too quick. The word shakes like it’s balancing on something fragile.
The air says otherwise.
Rowan.
His scent clings to her skin, clean rain and sandalwood under her own softer notes. No need to guess what happened.
I hesitate…go to Rowan or stop Jess before she locks herself away.
While I’m debating, she skirts around me to her bedroom.
She slows at her door, fingers white on the frame. Pausing, she turns back once with a white-knuckled grip, eyes closed like she’s gathering herself.
Then she’s gone.
The door clicks shut, quiet and final.
I exhale through my nose and count to five. Rowan’s never been careless a day in his life. If he kissed her, it wasn’t an accident.
And if she’s trembling like that, it wasn’t nothing.
I should leave it alone. Let them sort it out.
But the thought of her shaking like that, with Rowan still in his office, probably wound tight enough to snap, has me moving before I decide to.
My pulse syncs with the echo of my steps, faster the closer I get to his door. Rain and sandalwood seep into the hallway, strong enough to cut through thought.
I don’t knock.
He sits behind the desk, elbows braced, head bowed like he’s praying or trying not to throw a punch.
“Tell me you didn’t,” I say.
His eyes lift and meet mine and the air tightens. It always does when it’s just us. “Didn’t what?”
I shut the door and hold his gaze.” You know exactly what.”
He doesn’t bother pretending. His jaw flexes, and I hate that the sight of it makes something low in me tighten.
“Shit, Rowan.” Dropping into the chair across from him, I shake my head. “She just got here. You can’t—”
“I didn’t plan it.” His voice is quiet, stripped down to bone. “She kissed me back.”
“That’s not the point.”
His gaze darkens. “You think I’d force her? You think I’m Blake?”
“Don’t do that.” Elbows on my knees, I lean forward. “This isn’t about force, and you know it. It’s about timing. About control. You know what happens when an Omega bonds too early without knowing the Alphas well enough.”
Seen it too many times at Nexus, which is why I offered to work a double-shift as a guard rather than just the administration role of introducing Alphas to Omegas.
This way, I steer Alphas who my gut says are no good away, denying their applications, doing whatever I can.
Bringing in Alphas who Nexus might have balked at but I know would fit perfectly with an Omega.
It’s not perfect, but it’s what I do to help who I can.
Some Omegas if they have sex before getting to know their Alphas, have an addiction to them.
They may hate them until they go into heat, then they can’t get enough of them, I don’t want to live like that and I know Cassian and Rowan don’t either.
We want an Omega who is ours and we hers forever.
My throat tightens at the thought that we might have ruined that already and she hasn’t even been here twenty-four hours yet.
“She’s not bonding.”
“You sure about that?”
He doesn’t answer. Which is answer enough.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I try to find words that won’t sound like judgment. “You can’t fix her by wanting her, Rowan. That’s not how this works.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Then what are you doing?”
He taps the desk with his fingers—slow, even—but a tremor runs beneath the surface. “Trying not to make it worse.”
“Too late.”
He looks up and holds my gaze. Exhaustion leaks under the control—the kind that comes from holding back more than instinct.
“She doesn’t trust easily,” he says finally. “But she didn’t flinch.”
“Of course she didn’t. She’s trying to survive here. And you’re safe or were. You’re the one who doesn’t lose his temper.”
His mouth twitches. “You think that’s still true?”
The question lands heavier than it should. Jess’s face in the hall flashes through my mind—pale, eyes wide, hand shaking on the doorknob.
No. None of us are as steady as we used to be. Not since Meredith.
He leans back and the leather chair creaks. “You saw her?”
“Yeah.”
“How did she look?”
“Like she was trying to remember how to breathe.”
He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, something in them’s gone quiet. Dangerous. “Then I need to stay away from her.”
“That’s probably smart.”
He stands, pacing between the desk and the window.
“Rowan, I mean it.”
“I know.” His gaze drifts to the window, unfocused. “But I can’t.”
There it is. The truth. Simple and terrifying.
“Then you need to figure out how not to touch her,” I say, standing. “Because Cassian’s already two steps from losing it with her too, and if he finds out you—”
“I’ll handle Cassian.”
“Will you?” Stepping closer, I lower my voice. “Because he’s not the problem this time. You are.”
“Careful.”
“I am.” Without blinking, I meet his stare. “That’s why I’m the one saying it.”
For a long moment, neither of us moves. The only sound is the clock on the shelf like it knows we’re both full of shit.
“You think I wanted this?” Rowan finally says, voice low. “That I don’t know what it means to cross that line?”
“I think you stopped thinking the second you kissed her.”
But he doesn’t deny it.
“She’s not ready, Rowan.”
“She’s stronger than you think.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
Silence stretches between us, tight and thin. Something shifting under the surface. Rowan’s losing his edge, and the part of me that’s supposed to keep this pack together doesn’t know how to glue it back when it cracks again.
Finally, he rests both hands on either side of the window, shoulders broad, posture rigid.
“When I look at her,” he says quietly, “I don’t see an Omega. I see someone who’s been torn apart and is still trying to stand. And I can’t pretend I don’t understand that.”
I step closer and set a hand on his shoulder. “Understanding isn’t permission.”
He exhales through his teeth, jaw tight. “You ever try fighting something that feels like instinct and choice at the same time?”
“Every damn day,” I say. “That’s what being Beta is.”
The faintest twitch of a smile crosses his face. “Yeah. Guess it is.”
Then he turns, leaning against the sill, eyes darker than before. “You really think I hurt her?”
“No.” Shaking my head, I step in, the movement automatic—muscle memory born of too many nights patching each other up.
Before I can overthink it, his hand finds my waist, and then I’m against his chest, the thud of his heart steady under my palm.
“I think you scared her,” I say quietly. “And I think she scared you back.”
He doesn’t argue and slides a hand up my back, fingers tracing the edge of my collar until I shiver. When I look up, he’s already watching me—the kind of look that melts me every time I see it.
The first brush of a kiss is restrained—almost clinical. Then his lips part; heat pours in until it’s too much and not enough.
When we break, his forehead rests against mine, breath rough. “I’ll stay away,” he murmurs, the words brushing my lips like a lie we both agree to keep.
“You won’t,” I whisper, and kiss him again anyway—slow this time, just enough to remind us both what we’re risking. I tell myself it isn’t about proving I still have a place in his heart and in his bed.
Desperate and controlling, his kiss turns fierce. I moan against his mouth as he palms my cock.
Just enough to catch my breath, I pull back, my lips tingling from the intensity as I work at unbuttoning his pants. Dark with desire, his eyes hold a feral edge that sends a thrill through me.
This is the Rowan that no one else sees—the one who lets go of his iron control, if only with me.
“Rowan,” I groan.
His mouth crashes back onto mine, swallowing the rest of my words. He tastes like a storm on the verge of breaking. Snapping with every swipe of his tongue against mine, his control fraying, the leash he keeps on himself coming undone.
He’s a fire that licks at my senses, his touch makes me grind against his hand, chasing the friction that sends electric shocks through my veins. Rowan’s grip digs into my flesh with a possessiveness that makes my heart race. Raw and unfiltered, his need matching my own desperate hunger.
Anchoring me against him, his other hand finds my hip as he devours my mouth. The length of cock is hard agasint me, sending a wave of desire crashing through my body.
More—I want more of his touch, more of his taste, more of everything.
I fumble with the zipper on his pants and a feral groan comes from him, the sound vibrating through my chest and straight to my cock. Shaking, he helps me, tearing at the buttons of my jeans, pushing them and my briefs down my hips.
His mouth moves to my neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin as I kick off my jeans. I feel his smile, the scrape of his teeth sending shivers down my spine.
“You taste so fucking good.” He hooks a hand behind my neck, forcing eye contact. “Need you now.”
“Then fuck me.”
His grip tightens as he guides me back until the edge of the desk bites into my thighs. Between us, heat floods, his scent overwhelming—rain, sandalwood, and want.
In the desk, there’s emergency lube and he grabs it with one hand, dousing himself while he holds me down with the other. Hard and fully erect, his cock makes my mouth water, but he’s not letting me up.
I love the dominance in him when he’s like this.
His hands are rough and demanding, pushing me down onto the desk. Cool wood presses against my cock, my ass in the air, the sensation grounding me even as Rowan’s touch sets every nerve ending pulsing with need.
He nudges my ankles wider with his foot, making space for himself, and I can’t help but squirm, eager to have him inside me.