Chapter 20 Sophie
SOPHIE
Ican still smell them.
Ethan. Tyler. Brodie.
Their scents cling to the inn—woven into the old wooden floors, seared into the cushions, wrapped around me like invisible bindings.
The fire crackles in the hearth, casting long, flickering shadows over the room, but the heat inside me has nothing to do with the flames.
It’s deeper, primal, a simmering restlessness under my skin that has been growing since they left.
I shift on the sofa, rubbing my thighs together, trying to ignore the way my body aches. My pulse pounds in my ears, a slow, thick beat in time with the dull throb between my legs. This can’t be happening.
I press my palms against my cheeks, desperate for some kind of relief, but my skin is too hot. My Omega is pacing inside me, clawing at the walls I’ve spent years building, whispering in my ear,.
They should be here. This isn’t right.
I take deep, steadying breaths, forcing myself to focus. I can handle this. I’ve handled everything else.
But my instincts betray me. My body betrays me.
It wants them.
Not just one of them—all of them.
I groan in frustration and push myself off the couch, pacing in front of the fire. Maybe if I move, I can shake this feeling—drown it in exhaustion. But every breath pulls in more of them, more of their scent, more of the memory of their hands, their mouths.
Ethan’s firm grip. Tyler’s teasing smirk. Brodie’s steady touch.
My knees threaten to buckle.
No. I can’t stay in here. The walls are closing in. The scent is too thick. I need fresh air, now.
I grab my coat and step outside, the night air biting into my overheated skin. The shock of cold is a relief at first, sharp and crisp, cutting through the suffocating haze of warmth clinging to me.
My breath puffs out in small, visible clouds, and I tilt my face toward the sky, welcoming the icy sting of the wind against my feverish cheeks.
The silence is thick, the kind that settles over freshly fallen snow, muffling everything beneath its weight. The moon casts a pale glow over the landscape, the inn’s warm golden light spilling out from the windows behind me, but it feels a world away already.
Outside, I feel like I can think, like I’m not drowning in my own body.
But then, the relief wavers.
Because even out here, I can still smell them.
The remnants of their scent cling to my clothes and soak into my skin. It’s swirling around me like ghosts I can’t shake: the scent of cedarwood and dark spice, fresh citrus and wild sage, earthy musk, and steady warmth.
It’s inescapable, teasing the raw edges of my Omega instincts. My stomach clenches and cramps, an ache curling through me, deep and relentless.
I need to get this under control.
I take a few shaky steps toward the edge of the porch, dragging in deeper breaths, as if I can force the tension from my body. My muscles twitch with restless energy, and the cold isn’t enough to settle me. My thighs squeeze together on instinct, but the friction only makes it worse.
I shake my head, cursing under my breath.
Maybe a walk will help. Just a few minutes in the fresh air, away from the scent of them, away from everything.
I step down onto the snow-covered path, my boots crunching over the ice-packed ground. The orchard looms in the distance, darkened by the night, but I follow the worn footpath leading toward the barn, hoping the movement will do something—anything—to quiet the inferno raging inside me.
Then something shifts at the edge of the property.
A flicker of movement near the tree line. Small. Dark. Almost a shadow against the snow.
I freeze. My pulse jumps, heat momentarily replaced by something sharper.
It takes me a second to recognize the shape—a cat?
I squint, my vision slightly unfocused, the cold wind burning my eyes. The little creature slinks forward, its body low, delicate paws barely making a dent in the fresh snow. Its fur is dark, its ears pricked up, eyes reflecting in the moonlight as it watches me.
A pang of concern cuts through the heat smothering my senses. It’s freezing out here. It has to belong to someone. Maybe it got lost?
I take a cautious step forward. “Hey there, little one,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.
The cat twitches, its tail flicking once. Then, in an instant, it turns and darts toward the trees.
“Wait—”
Without thinking, I follow.
The snow crunches under my boots as I make my way across the yard, past the barn, into the thicket beyond. The air is sharper here, the wind curling around my legs, whispering through the pines.
I should go back. I know I should. But my body keeps moving forward, chasing the little shadow as it disappears into the dark.
The further I go, the more the cold seeps in. My heat and the night air battle for dominance, leaving me dizzy, off-balance. I hug my coat closer, shivering, even as sweat beads at the base of my spine.
A gust of wind shakes the branches overhead, and a crack echoes through the trees. I whip around. Nothing. Just shadows.
The inn’s lights behind me are dim now, swallowed by the thickening darkness.
“Shit.”
I take a slow, steadying breath, trying to quiet the unease curling in my stomach.
The cat is gone. And I’m too far from the inn.
Heat and cold are colliding within me.
I turn back the way I came, but my legs feel heavier, like they don’t belong to me anymore. The cold has sunk its teeth into my limbs, but my core burns hotter, a dangerous contrast that makes my pulse stutter.
The wind shifts, and my own scent crashes over me—thick, sweet, unmistakable.
My stomach clenches, and intense cramps wrack my body, making me double over.
No. Not now.
Not here.
I stumble forward, trying to focus, trying to push through the weight pressing down on my chest. My hands shake as I grab onto a low branch for balance. My breath comes faster, ragged, my vision swimming.
I whimper, my body reacting before my mind can catch up. Heat coils low in my belly, desperate and needy. The thought of Ethan, Tyler, and Brodie finding me like this makes my thighs press together involuntarily.
I need to get back. I need to—
My foot catches on a buried root, and suddenly, the ground disappears.
I’m falling for what feels like forever.
The impact knocks the air from my lungs. The cold rushes in, swallowing me whole.
Snowflakes land on my cheeks, melting instantly against the fever burning beneath my skin. My limbs feel too heavy to move, my body shivering violently now.
Get up. Move.
But I can’t.
The heat is pulling me under, sinking into my bones. My scent is everywhere, clouding my thoughts, calling for them.
I can’t—
A voice, faint and distant, drifts through the trees. My name.
Then darkness.