Chapter Thirty-three
Hale
“Just do it,” I whisper to myself as I stand outside Aksel’s door. My hands clench and unclench at my sides, nerves buzzing under my skin as I debate knocking.
“Are you gonna do it?”
“Hades!” I yelp. “What are you doing here, Eric?”
“I’m here for moral support, babes.”
“Go away.”
“But I’m helping.” “How are you helping?”
“What do you mean, how? I wanted you to know I’m here in case you need assistance.”
“Assistance?” I scoff. “I don’t need assistance, Eric. I’m just talking to him. I don’t need help hiding a body.”
“But you could call me if that becomes necessary.”
“Oh my gods, go away.”
I start shoving him toward the elevators while he digs in his heels, the two of us bickering loudly enough to wake half the floor.
Apparently, it’s loud enough to wake Aksel, too, because the door opens mid-struggle to reveal me riding Eric’s back like an unhinged spider monkey while attempting a sleeper hold.
We freeze.
Aksel’s lips twitch. He’s clearly fighting a laugh. “Can I help y’all?” he asks.
“Uh, yeah,” I say, breathless. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“Talk?” His brows disappear into his blond bangs.
“Of course. You might want to let go of Eric before he passes out, though.”
Only then do I notice Eric weakly tapping my arm in surrender. I drop the hold I have on him, climb down, and pat his back a little too hard as he wheezes dramatically, hands braced on his knees.
“Can I come in?” I ask. “Sure.”
I brush past him into the room, leaving Eric coughing theatrically in the hallway and muttering something about our friendship not being payment enough for this abuse. The door clicks shut behind me.
Aksel’s pheromones hit me immediately, warm, familiar, and comforting in a way that makes my chest ache. I’m not mad anymore. Not really. But I’m still hurt. And I still need answers.
I wander toward the window, staring out at the pool below, fingers grazing the gauzy curtains while I stall for time. His view isn’t as good as mine. I prefer the lights. The fountains. Movement. Distraction.
“I’m sorry,” Aksel says softly.
“What was that?” I ask, not turning around. Yes, I’m being petty. I’ve earned it.
He clears his throat. “I’m sorry, Fylgja. I should’ve told you your mom was coming. I should’ve told you my parents were helping her. I should’ve told you everything.” His voice breaks. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
I turn to face him. “Why didn’t you?”
He shrugs, uncomfortable but honest. “I didn’t want to ruin your chance to see her. I didn’t know how to tell you without upsetting you—which, looking back, makes me an idiot. Things between us were already… complicated. I was scared it would push you away.”
I nod slowly, letting it sink in. I understand more than I want to. If the situation were reversed, I’m not sure I would’ve handled it any better. That doesn’t erase the hurt, but it softens the edges.
I must go quiet for too long, because suddenly Aksel is moving. When I look down, he’s on his knees in front of me, head bowed, hands resting on his thighs like he’s bracing for impact.
“I know I don’t deserve forgiveness yet,” he says quietly. “But please let me earn it. I’ll do anything to get us back to where we were.”
My breath catches. The sight of him like this, determined, humbled, and devastatingly sincere, hits me harder than I expect. I should drag this out a little. Let him sweat. Feed my pettiness.
But he looks wrecked. And gods help me, I’m not as angry as I want to be.
“Oh, come on, Hale,” Eric shouts through the door. “Forgive the poor bastard already!”
I burst out laughing, the sound surprising even me, and I rest my hand on the crown of Aksel’s head. He looks up with a shy, almost disbelieving smile before his arms slide around my waist. He presses his face into my stomach, shoulders trembling as the last of the tension bleeds out of him.
“I forgive you,” I say quietly. Then, firmer, because he needs to hear it. “But if you ever do anything like this again, we’re done. I don’t care if you’re my husband. I will walk away without a single regret. Understand?”
He stills, listening.
“Just because I’m an omega doesn’t mean I’m weak,” I continue, voice steady now. “I can stand on my own. I don’t need you. I choose you. Because I love you.”
I freeze. Oh.
I love him?
When the hell did that happen?
Aksel lets out a shaky breath, like he’s been holding it for days. His arms tighten around me as he murmurs thank you and I love you over and over, the words barely audible, like he’s afraid I’ll run if he says it too loud. My eyes burn. My chest feels too full.
He loves me too. We can do this.
Holy shit.
A loud bang on the door shatters the moment.
“Did you forgive him?” Eric yells. “Are you making up? Do I need to leave? I bet he’s kinky. I need to get laid. I’ll see you later!”
I groan. Aksel laughs, the sound warm and real. “Your friend is… a lot,” he says.
“Yeah,” I admit, smiling. “But he’s the best.”
“He did tell you to forgive me,” Aksel adds thoughtfully. “I should probably thank him.”
“If we’re being honest,” I say, tilting my head, “I forgave you yesterday. You were in a shitty position. I just… really enjoy a man groveling.”
His smile turns dangerous. “I’ll grovel for you any day, Fylgja. Say the word, and I’m on my knees.”
My breath stutters. “I like the sound of that.”
A low growl rumbles from his chest as he presses a kiss to my shirt-covered stomach, reverent and possessive all at once.
“Does my little omega want more groveling from his alpha?”
I nod aggressively, the need for his mouth on me overwhelming. The low rumble of his answer sends slick spilling from my hole, my cock thickening and throbbing painfully. My fingers thread through his soft blond hair, tightening into a fist as he works my jeans open and drags them down my legs.
“Commando?” he murmurs.
“I was hoping this was how you apologized,” I joke breathlessly.
His laugh is deep, soaked in heat. “What my omega wants, my omega gets.”
He takes me into his mouth in one smooth motion, swallowing down until he’s flush at the base. A broken moan tears from my throat. “Oh fuck, alpha.”
His growl vibrates through me, pure pleasure shooting up my spine.
I whimper when one hand slides to my ass, his finger tracing my crease, asking permission, not taking.
I spread my legs without hesitation, offering myself up, slick already coating me.
He doesn’t waste a second, pushing two fingers inside.
Guess we aren’t drawing this out today. I am more than okay with that.
I ride his fingers and fuck his mouth, utterly incapable of gentleness.
Aksel looks wrecked in the best way as he worships my cock, eyes blown wide and unfocused.
Drool slips from his swollen lips, glossy and obscene where they’re stretched around me.
His cheeks are flushed, his blond hair a complete mess, and my chest clenches at how perfect he looks like this.
My orgasm builds fast, inevitable. I don’t even try to stop it. I whimper and whine, a broken sound torn from me as sensation overwhelms thought. He knows exactly what he’s doing as he adds another finger and presses just right against my prostate. The world around me detonates.
A long, low groan rips out of me as I come apart. My body shakes violently, my grip on his hair brutal, probably painful. Aksel doesn’t seem to care. He shuts his eyes and keeps nursing me through it, reverent even as I soften in his mouth.
When I become too sensitive for him to continue, I haul him up by the shoulders and take his wrist, bringing his slick-covered palm to my mouth. I lick him clean slowly, deliberately, my tongue gentle and thorough.
His eyes flash, sharp with lust, and my cock twitches like it wants another round. I laugh quietly and pull him toward the bed instead, pushing him down and crawling over him until we’re chest to chest, limbs tangled, both of us breathing hard.
We stay like that for a while, quiet and boneless, basking in my hazy afterglow. I trace lazy circles over his chest, tease one nipple and then the other while his fingers comb through my hair.
“That was…” I trail off, words failing me.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, voice thick and sleepy, his jaw cracking with a yawn. “It really was.”
Exhaustion finally claims me. My eyes slide shut as I tuck my face into his neck, breathing him in, letting his scent settle me completely.
“We’re gonna win a million dollars,” I murmur.
His hand keeps stroking my hair, steady and sure, and I feel him nod. I fall asleep smiling.
All things considered, this might be the best week of my life.