Chapter 11
11
brIAR
I’m in a dream.
That’s the only plausible explanation for what’s happening, and even that isn’t believable.
The alpha holding me hostage in his arms is my scent match.
I’m sure of it.
His rich caramel scent is layered with the hint of coffee, slightly bitter, as if I made the mistake of ordering it black instead of with milk.
I’ve inhaled it over and over, trying to search through it for the hint of someone else.
Another omega, mostly.
My heart pinches at the possibility that he’s not mine for the taking.
Or that, similarly to the alpha from the restaurant, he won’t want me once this scent spike dies down.
I furrow my brows and rub my cheek against his palm, breathing in the thick, rich caramel that might as well be running in glistening ribbons down his neck.
The collar of his leather jacket is flipped, creating a boundary between his throat and where I ache to bring my nose.
He holds me firmly with a sense of sureness that I pray I’m not making up in my head.
“Ronan?”
Suddenly, I’m plastered to the alpha’s firm chest. The shift has me able to press up on my tiptoes and sneak closer to his throat.
I’m still too far to rub against his scent gland, but even just this is better.
His scent is stronger here, like a beacon for both me and my omega that makes me glad I always wear scent-cancelling panties.
The burst of slick that escapes when that sweet scent swells would have soaked through regular ones.
Ronan grows completely still against me as his chest rattles with a growl, and he snarls at the owner of the new voice.
“Alright, Ro. I’m not going to take her from you,” the man says.
“You can trust me.”
With a stiff nod, Ronan leans close, bringing his nose to my hair, and pulls in a long inhale of my scent.
I preen at his interest, my worry that he’ll retreat starting to dim.
“Who is she, Ronan? You can tell me that, right?”
“Mine,” he declares, almost ferally.
I can’t help it. It’s not about the ownership of the claim but the pride with which he says it that draws a needy noise up my throat.
It brushes his chest as I rub against his shirt and try to keep my eyes from rolling back.
“Briar,” I whisper.
Ronan palms the back of my head and strokes my hair, a rough exhale blowing through it.
My stomach flips over and over again as another scent drifts toward us.
I tense, sorting through the caramel to find a sweet bite of peanut butter and chocolate weaving around it.
I shiver at the combination, in awe of how perfectly the scents complement one another.
Pack . They’re pack.
Jolted at that realization, I pull out of Ronan’s arms and blink up at the man who’s just joined us.
He’s so . . . vibrant.
And as I let my gaze wander, I realize how much smaller he is than Ronan.
Not in a bad way, just different.
He’s still far taller than me and without a doubt could hold his own with the bigger man.
It’s more of a subtle difference.
A slimmer build, less prominent bone structure, and compared to his packmate, he has a much better hold on his instincts.
Even his scent is softer and a bit hard to separate from Ronan’s.
He’s a beta.
Instead of coming to me the way Ronan did, he hesitates, blue eyes wide and thoughts busy.
His wavy blond hair droops down over his forehead, and he makes no move to push it back.
“Are you . . . You too?” I whisper.
He swallows, curiosity blooming across his face.
The bottoms of his sneakers scuff the sidewalk when he comes forward, opening and closing his hands where they hang by his thighs like he wants to reach for me but can’t.
Ronan lingers close, not touching me again without permission.
Now that I’ve stepped out of his arms, his energy has shifted, becoming sharper.
My first instinct is to soothe him, so I take a chance and lean against his body, hoping he doesn’t shrug me off now that we’re not alone.
He sighs, relieved, and strokes a hand up my back, fingers splayed as if to touch as much of me as possible.
It’s absolutely crazy to be this at ease with a stranger so soon.
So why does his touch feel so incredible?
I don’t want him to ever stop touching me.
Maybe that makes me a fool.
Nothing changes the fact that I’ve been searching for this connection my entire life.
We might have only just met, but there’s no mistaking who we are to each other.
Fated, scent matched, they’re the same thing in my eyes.
We were meant to find each other, and this beta might be meant for me too.
An echo of a pull is there, but it’s not as strong as the one I feel with Ronan.
Like maybe there’s something blocking it.
I’m positive the blockage isn’t coming from my end.
He sure smells like he could be mine.
With a clearer mind now that my nose isn’t an inch from Ronan’s throat, I’m able to think through my actions a bit more.
“I’m Dash,” the beta says, sounding a bit airy.
“And you’re Briar.”
I roll my lips, trying to avoid smiling so quickly.
“Hi, Dash.”
“You’re an omega,” he blurts out.
Ronan might still be stiff, but the noise he releases almost sounds like a rough laugh.
“Fuck’s sake, Dash.”
“Have you never seen one before?” I ask with a tilt of my head.
Dash’s eyes bulge. “I have. But you—you’re not like the rest of them.”
I blush, my cheeks on fire.
Focusing on his peachy lips, I take a step in his direction.
The loss of Ronan’s touch is almost painful.
Like the first splash of cold water on a fresh burn.
Every bone in my body aches with the distance between us.
Chest tight to the point of discomfort, I stand in front of Dash and slowly bring my eyes up to snag on the ones already watching me.
There’s a connection between us.
A mutual desire like the one I feel with Ronan.
He may be a beta, but that hasn’t changed anything other than a slight stifling of his scent.
Up this close, I can smell it better.
It calls to me. There’s a rightness here, a confirmation that he’s supposed to be someone to me, even if he’s not exactly a scent match.
“How do you know that already?” I ask.
He glances at Ronan briefly.
“For one, I’ve never seen Ro react like that to anyone before.”
“Like that?” I repeat.
“I thought I was going to have to call the rest of the pack to come help me get him off of you.”
Ronan all but lunges back to my side, planting himself in a position that semi-blocks Dash’s view of me.
The rumble in his chest is a low warning, more animal than man.
“Yeah, you’re one of a kind, Briar,” Dash says with a crooked grin.
“What’s wrong with you?” Ronan snaps at him.
“You mean, other than being incredibly confused by all of this?”
A small nip of rejection follows his question.
Does he not feel anything toward me right now?
Not even when we’re this close?
Being only a few inches from this beta feels good.
It’s right. Maybe I’m wrong .
. .
I hide my emotions behind a light smile.
Ronan’s body heat keeps me warm as the night breeze cools.
The urge to fall back into his arms is overwhelming.
I don’t know anything about this man, and it doesn’t matter.
He’s safe. I know he’s mine, and I’ve always trusted my instincts.
Well, always until Dash.
When it comes to this beta, I’m unsure.
“You two are pack, right?” I ask.
“Yeah, Petal.”
Ronan curls a thick, strong arm around my back and palms my hip possessively.
I shudder at the display, his touch sizzling through my dress.
In the blink of an eye, I’m perfuming again, this time too weak to the pull to keep from rolling into my alpha’s arms. We can talk later, maybe when we’re alone and I’ve had time to sit with all of this.
For now, I slide my hands beneath his jacket and over his waist, exploring the expanse of his back.
My lemon scent is intense, drowning all three of us.
“Briar,” Ronan rasps.
Humming, I roll my forehead along his sternum and rub against his front, marking him.
He flattens his hand to my lower back and tugs me in, forcing us flat together.
It’s an intimate hold.
One reserved for lovers.
That’s what we are now, isn’t it?
Or could be?
I know Dash is still here watching.
It doesn’t bother me.
His closeness doesn’t freak me out—another sign that there’s more to the story here.
Ronan lowers his mouth to my temple, his lips parting on my searing skin.
Arousal shifts through me, drooping low in my belly as more slick fills my panties.
If I don’t leave soon, wearing them at all will have been pointless.
I’ll be dripping down my thighs.
Knowing that there’s a clock ticking down faster than I’d hoped, I make a move I’ve wanted to do from the first time I scented Ronan.
I move cautiously, shyly, and push forward on my toes in search of his throat.
His scent gland is my destination, even though it’s still covered by that damn collar.
A frustrated huff escapes my parted lips, followed by his low groan.
“Yeah, you want to mark me, Petal?” he asks, voice gravelled.
He tugs the collar of his jacket aside.
“I’m all yours.”
“Ronan,” Dash warns.
I curl my fingers into Ronan’s back and finally bring my nose where I’ve needed it to be.
Knuckles trace the shape of my cheek as I nuzzle against his throat, coaxing more caramel into the air while transferring my scent onto his skin.
It won’t last forever, but I’m more than interested in repeating this process multiple times a day for the foreseeable future.
His strength has me in disbelief as he holds me, letting me rub against his neck.
Before pulling back, I drift my mouth across the hot skin and freeze, one flick of my tongue away from tasting him.
“Do it,” he commands.
I sigh happily, my eyes closing as I glide my tongue up the strong column of his throat.
The mix of our scents clouds the air, making it sticky.
I’m enthralled with the way it makes me feel like I’m weightless.
Like there’s nothing but this and us right here.
My teeth scrape at his throat as I teeter, strong fingers holding the back of my head to keep me in place.
Ronan hisses a curse and bares his neck further, muscles straining as he opens himself up to me.
I could bite him like this.
Claim him properly already with more than just my scent?—
“Enough,” Dash shouts, his voice like a smack upside the head.
I jolt back, mortified.
Knowing both men are staring at me, I lift a hand to my mouth and try to clear my head.
Distance from Ronan doesn’t help.
It only makes everything worse.
Swallowing to trap a whine, I tuck my hair behind my ears and take another large step backward toward the building behind us.
My voice is a whisper in the wind.
“I’m sorry.”
“We just don’t need any claiming right now. Clearly, there are things that need to be talked about. Our pack needs to hear about this before anything else happens,” Dash says, risking moving between Ronan and me.
I latch onto the mention of their pack.
“There are more of you?”
“Two more,” Ronan grunts, reaching for me.
When I shake my head and fold my arms to ensure I don’t do the same thing, he pins Dash beneath a death glare.
“I’m not leaving her here alone.”
“You’ve only just met. It’s a scent match, right? That’s what this is?” Dash asks.
It sounds flippant. Like he doesn’t really care about what’s just happened, yet something in my gut tells me that’s not the whole story.
That there’s more to this beta than I’ve seen so far.
“She’s my omega,” Ronan growls, inching toward his packmate.
“I believe you. But it’s too soon. Landon needs to hear about this before we do anything else.”
“Landon doesn’t have shit to say about this.”
Dash’s mouth drops just enough to betray his surprise.
“You know that isn’t how it works, Ro.”
“He can’t take her from me.”
My heart pangs, and a beat later, I’m back in his arms despite Dash’s warning.
I need to touch him, even if that looks bad to his packmate.
In a few minutes, I’ll be going inside alone.
Even if that makes me want to hurl all over the grass.
Pressing a hand to Ronan’s vibrating chest, I tip my head back to meet his dark eyes.
“Nobody is taking me from you. But he’s right. If there are more of you . . . then you need to speak with them, and we have to meet. This is still new. A scent match is rare and incredible, but it’s not a done deal.”
“Not a done deal?” he asks, confused.
I giggle. “No. Not by a long shot.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you have to court her, Ronan. Like any other omega. But there’s no chance we’ll be able to do that without Landon and Jasper,” Dash answers for me.
Landon and Jasper . I memorize their names, already picturing what they might look like and how they smell.
If both Ronan and Dash have sweet scents, maybe the other two are darker, spicy.
Blinking, I mentally chastise myself.
I’m too far ahead. It’s obvious whoever Landon is, he isn’t interested in an omega.
I’ve already struck out with Dash, and if I don’t recognize the other two as scent matches, I don’t know what will happen.
Thinking about it now will only make it that much harder to let Ronan leave.
We need time apart. All of us.
Without it, we’ll never think about anything properly.
I’ve already lost all sense once, and I can’t afford to do it again.
At least not until I know what in the world I’m going to do.