Chapter 12 Sophie
SOPHIE
The sight of him stops me in my tracks. Ethan stands there, a cup of cider cradled in his strong hands, his dark eyes flicking between me and Lily like he’s trying to unravel a puzzle only he can see.
The air between us crackles, and my heart slams against my ribs, memories of the barn flooding back with searing intensity—the heat of his touch, the raw need in his voice.
It’s like the world tilts, narrowing to just him, and I can’t decide if I want to run toward him or bolt in the opposite direction.
“Hi,” I manage, my voice tight.
“Sophie,” he replies, his tone unreadable, his face a mask of indifference as he hands Lily a cider.
“Thanks, big brother,” she says, clearly picking up on the unease.
The tension between us feels thick enough to cut. Lily glances between Ethan and me, her brows knitting slightly.
She clears her throat, her hand resting lightly on my arm. “I’ll, uh, grab that churro now,” she says with a knowing smile before waddling toward the vendor a few feet away, leaving us alone.
Ethan stands there, his gaze unwavering, the weight of it pressing down on me. I fidget under his scrutiny, crossing my arms over my chest as if that could shield me from the storm brewing in his eyes.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my tone sharper than I intend. My Omega is starting to squirm, torn between making me throw myself at him in the middle of the street and running away.
Ethan shrugs, taking a slow sip of his cider, his movements deliberate, measured. “It’s a festival. Everyone’s here.”
“Right,” I reply, my voice sharper than I intend as I fight to mask my irritation. Embarrassment creeps into my tone, and my cheeks burn.
The barn incident is still fresh in my mind—the way he touched me, the heat of his hands on my skin, the way his scent wrapped around me like a cocoon. And then, the way he left. Like I’d burned him.
His smoky cedar scent is making my mouth water. I can smell how much he desires me. I want him. Desperately.
It’s a fever crawling under my skin, hot and consuming, and I feel like I’m pulling that need toward me like a magnet. My breath hitches, turning ragged, and I see it—the way Ethan stiffens, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly.
Oh God. He knows.
I can feel the slick pooling between my thighs, my instincts betraying me in every way.
Ethan’s jaw tightens, his hand gripping the cider cup harder than necessary.
His Alpha is responding to me—I can sense it in the rigid control radiating off him, in the way his eyes darken as they lock onto mine.
The air between us crackles, charged and primal, and I can’t stop the overwhelming urge rising inside me.
The need to rip off his clothes, to bare myself completely, to drop to all fours and present myself to him right here—it’s so strong, so visceral, that I have to ball my fists at my sides to keep from reaching for him.
Ethan takes a step closer, his broad frame blocking out the festival crowd behind him. His voice drops an octave, low and rough. “Sophie, are you okay?”
I swallow hard, unable to look away from him. My body screams no, but I force myself to nod. “Fine. Just…hot.” My voice wavers, the lie thin and unconvincing.
His eyes narrow, scanning me like he can see every thought running through my head. “You don’t look fine.” His tone is sharp, edged with something possessive, something that makes my knees weak and my heart race.
I don’t hear Lily return until her hand brushes my arm, snapping me out of the moment. “Soph?” she asks softly, her face a mix of concern and understanding.
I tear my gaze away from Ethan, the intensity of his stare suffocating. Suddenly, the urge to escape is overwhelming. I need space—anywhere but here, anywhere away from him and the inferno he’s inside me.
“Well, I think I’m going to…going to…um…go and see what I can see,” I mumble, leaning into Lily and softly saying goodbye. My voice sounds distant even to my own ears, my words rushed and flustered.
Lily gives me a quick, reassuring squeeze on the arm, but I catch the flicker of concern in her eyes before she plasters on a supportive smile. “Okay. Just text me if you need anything, all right?”
Ethan steps forward as I turn to leave, his presence commanding, his Alpha pushing against my senses like a wave. His hand brushes mine, and the contact sends a jolt straight through me.
“Sophie.” His voice is quiet but firm, laced with something deeper—an unspoken command that makes my Omega stir, instinctively wanting to obey.
I hesitate, glancing back at him, and for a moment, the tension between us feels like it might snap. His expression is unreadable, his jaw tight, but the way his eyes linger on me speaks volumes.
I turn to leave, not ready to face whatever his presence is promising. But before I can take another step, his hand wraps around my arm, just above the elbow. His grip is firm but careful as he gently pulls me back, spinning me to face him.
He draws me closer, so close that we’re almost touching. I’m drowning in how he smells, all Alpha, all promise, all passion.
My Omega stirs, the instinctive need to lean into his presence battling against the frustration bubbling inside me. Slick pools between my thighs, betraying my conflicted feelings.
I can feel his Alpha’s displeasure in the slightly bitter edge that sharpens his mouthwatering scent.
“You shouldn’t wander off alone,” he says, “not feeling like this.”
His voice low, edged with that familiar command and protectiveness that always seems to border on possessive. “It’s not safe.”
“I’m not alone if I’m with Lily, Ethan,” I snap, my cheeks flushing, my hackles rising. “And I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
I feel like I want to fight or fuck.
“I’ll be fine,” I say quickly with more heat authority than I feel, pulling my hand away and taking a step back. My body screams at me to stay, to let him take me, but I force myself to turn and walk away, my heart pounding in my chest.
As I weave through the festival crowd, my skin still burns where his hand touched mine. I feel his gaze on me, heavy and unrelenting, and I know this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
The lanterns along the dock sway gently in the breeze, their warm golden glow reflecting on the dark, rippling water below. The soft rhythm of the ocean fills the quiet night, and I finally feel like I can breathe.
I walk slowly, the wooden planks of the dock creaking beneath my feet, each step pulling me farther from the oppressive weight of Ethan’s scent and the way it wrapped around me earlier like a vice.
The air here is different—clean and crisp, carrying the faint tang of salt and the soothing hum of the waves.
It’s grounding, pulling me back from the edge of the storm that’s been brewing inside me all day.
I tip my head back, letting the cool breeze wash over my flushed skin, trying to will away the heat that simmers just beneath the surface.
But it’s still there, relentless and maddening. The pressure under my skin, the aching need that I don’t fully understand, grows heavier with every passing moment. I’ve never felt like this before—this restless, this out of control—and it terrifies me.
My body feels foreign, like it’s no longer entirely mine, as if my Omega instincts have taken the wheel, leaving my rational mind scrambling to keep up.
I wrap my arms around myself, my steps faltering as I glance out at the horizon where the ocean meets the night sky. The vastness of it is calming, a reminder that the world is bigger than the chaos in my head.
But even as I try to lose myself in the view, the heat inside me pulls my thoughts back, relentless in its demand for something I don’t know how to give.
What if I can’t handle this? What if I can’t do this on my own? The thought claws at me, and for a moment, I feel the edges of panic creeping in.
I press my palm to my chest, focusing on the steady rhythm of my heartbeat, and force myself to keep moving.
The solitude of the dock helps, each step forward easing the knot in my chest. But just as I begin to feel the slightest semblance of control, I scent him.
Our scents mingle together, weaving a tapestry of need.
Brodie.
He’s sitting at the very edge of the pier, his legs dangling over the water, the soft, flickering glow of the nearby lanterns illuminates his broad-shouldered frame. His profile is relaxed, but there’s an air of quiet strength about him, as if he’s part of the stillness around him.
The sight of him makes my breath hitch, the tightness in my chest shifting to a burning fire in my core. An electric awareness replaces the soothing calm I’d found just moments ago.
For a second, I consider turning back, but my feet betray me, carrying me forward almost without my permission.
“Hey,” I call out softly, stopping a few feet away. My voice wavers slightly, betraying the turmoil beneath my calm exterior.
He glances over his shoulder, his amber eyes warm and inviting. “Hey yourself,” he replies, his tone easy but edged with curiosity. “Was hoping I’d run into you, but wasn’t sure you’d show up at the festival. What are you doing?”
“Needed some air,” I say simply, my voice almost a whimper now.
His gaze lingers on me for a beat, as if he can sense that there’s more to it than that. Then he lifts his arm. “Come sit. The view’s pretty good tonight.”
I hesitate for just a moment before stepping closer and lowering myself onto the dock beside him, letting his arm pull me into his side. The wood is cool beneath me, and the ocean breeze brushes against my skin, but none of it is enough to drown out the heat building inside me.
This was a bad plan. I should have backed up and gone the opposite direction.
The silence stretches between us, not awkward, but heavy with unspoken things. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and I can’t hide the need building in me. The flicker of understanding in his gaze makes my breath catch.