Chapter Three
Jude
The big alpha opens the back door to his car, holding it open for me like a chauffeur.
I hesitate, my body trembling, and look up at him.
He’s admittedly handsome, all sharp angles and hard muscle, his face shadowed by the dim light from the street.
He’s so scary looking, the kind of alpha my father always warned me about, but there’s something in his eyes, a flicker of something that isn’t just cruelty or lust. And his scent…
it’s leather and steel, a sharp, clean smell that cuts through the cloying sweetness of my own heat.
It actually calms the frantic buzzing in my head.
“It’s okay, Jude.” His voice is a gentle purr over the rain. “I won’t hurt you.”
I stare at the car in front of me, realizing that he might be telling me the truth. After all, he’s offering me the backseat, a barrier of space between us.
He’s not crowding me or trying to trap me in the front beside him. In fact, he hasn’t touched me at all. He’s just being so…nice.
Maybe he is a good guy…
I give in.
I mean, I can’t stay out in this rain, not with the fire in my belly growing hotter by the second.
My knees shake as I crawl into the car, my movements clumsy and weak. The interior is all black leather and dark shadows, the dashboard casting a soft, green glow over everything. It’s clean, and it feels safe…kinda.
The alpha gets into the driver’s seat, the whole car shifting under his weight. He starts the engine, and it rumbles to life with a deep, powerful thrum that I feel in my bones. As he pulls out of the alley and onto the dark, glistening street, I find my voice.
“What’s your name?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
He glances at me in the rearview mirror, his eyes catching the dashboard lights. “Pace,” he says, his voice a low rumble that seems to vibrate right through me. “Pace Greene.”
“Th-thank you,” I stammer, my voice thin. “For helping me.”
“No problem,” he says, his eyes on the road. But I notice how his hands tremble as he grips the steering wheel, turning the car down the wide, empty street.
Looking up at the night sky, I try to find the moon, but the dark clouds hide her.
I don’t even know what time it is.
I snuck out right as the sun was setting, but the second I stepped out of the apartment building, it felt like everyone was staring at me as I walked, their eyes like physical touches.
I was so scared of someone realizing I was an omega without an escort that I ducked into the nearest alleyway and cried for what felt like hours.
Lightning cracks overhead, and I flinch hard.
Hot slick pulses out of my body, a constant, shameful trickle that contrasts wildly with the cold, wet clothes sticking to my skin.
Terrified, I look at Pace, but he doesn’t seem to react to the smell of my slick at all.
In fact, he doesn't even flinch.
This alpha must be a saint. I mean, why isn't he attacking me?
Did I really find the one good and honorable alpha in the whole city?
Pace turns down another street, and a new wave of pheromones rushes through me, so intense it makes my dick strain hard in my shorts.
A sharp, throbbing pain starts in my shaft, the tip so sensitive it feels like it’s being scraped with sandpaper.
I want to cry as I press a hand over it through my soaked shorts, trying to ease the pressure, but it doesn’t help.
It just makes me hiss in pain.
The second the sound leaves my lips, Pace stiffens.
Guilt slams into me so fast it almost steals the air from my lungs.
I shouldn’t have made a noise. I should’ve swallowed it down, kept quiet, stayed small. I know better than to draw attention to myself.
My father always says that alphas react because they’re pushed. Because omegas go out of their way to make themselves a spectacle.
He says that my kind create problems and then act surprised when it explodes in our faces.
And right now, if I don’t shut up and act right, I’m going to push this good alpha into doing something bad. And it’ll be my fault when he does….
“You okay?” Pace asks, his voice a deep, luscious rumble.
I can smell him, his scent growing stronger, thicker in the small space of the car, and for a second, that thrills me. A dark, primal part of me wants this. I want to have the massive alpha mount me, fill me, fuck and mark me until I can’t remember my own name.
But then my senses creep back in, and I inhale sharply, trying to collect myself. “Do you… do you know where a clinic is?” I manage to ask through clenched teeth.
“I know somewhere safe,” Pace says, still staring at the road.
I nod, thankful, as my body cramps up again, a fresh wave of agony making me curl in on myself in the backseat.
A broken sound rips from my throat, and I fall over onto my side, my body no longer able to hold itself up. I pant through the pain, my face pressed into the blessedly cool leather. Slick is everywhere, coating my thighs, soaking through my shorts.
I feel like I’m either going to pass out or throw up.
Maybe both.
The car’s engine revs beneath me, a deep, angry roar.
My body slides across the leather as Pace takes one sharp turn, then another, the movements jarring my already aching frame.
Then suddenly, bright fluorescent lights pour through the windows, stark and clinical.
He’s pulled into a parking garage. I try to ask if we’re at the clinic, but all that comes out is a desperate, pathetic sob.
The car finally stops, and I lift up, my head swimming. The garage seems to be empty, other than one other car in the far corner. It’s covered in a thick layer of dust, looking like it hasn’t moved in years.
Pace gets out, his door slamming shut with a heavy echo. A moment later, my back door opens, flooding the car with the dusty smell of the garage and the cold rush of rain.
Inching my way toward the open door, the first thing I see is the grimy concrete wall of the building, and I realize with a jolt of fear that he parked at a weird angle, blocking the car in.
“What—” But before I can say another word, Pace crawls into the car, his massive frame filling the space. He pushes me onto my back, one hand on my chest, and the fear is immediate and absolute.
His eyes are dark, predatory, his pupils blown wide with lust.
“Wait, no!” I panic, and a frightened whimper slips from my throat.
My senses are in overdrive, everything too loud despite the only sound being the gentle rush of the rain against the concrete roof outside. I can hear my own heart hammering, the blood rushing in my ears, and the low growl building in his chest.
I’m trapped.
Oh, god! What have I done?
Pace moves over me, a cage of muscle and heat that blocks out the faint garage light.
Fear grips me, cold and sharp, as he looms over me, his big body so close I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. His shadow swallows me, and the scent of him—leather and steel and raw alpha power—is suffocating, stealing the air from my lungs.
I can’t move or breathe. I can only lie here and wait for whatever lewd thing this stranger is going to do to me.
“P-please.” A high-pitched cry cuts through my words. “Don’t hurt, hurt me.”
“Never,” Pace whispers as his dark eyes dart all over my face.
My terror is a living thing, twisting hard in my gut, but underneath it, the treacherous fire of my heat still burns, a sickening pulse of want that warms with my instinct to survive.
“Such a pretty thing,” Pace rumbles, his voice a low vibration that I feel in my bones. “So fucking sweet.” Then he kisses me. Hard.
He nips at my bottom lip before his tongue pushes into my mouth.
I flush, a hot, humiliating wave of color rising to my cheeks.
I hate it, but I can’t stop the preening pleasure that blooms in my chest at his compliment.
But then, without warning, a deep, suffocating shame cuts through my heat, gripping me like a vice.
This is my fault.
Pace was only trying to help me.
He was going to take me to a clinic.
But my pheromones, my weak, treacherous body, messed with his head, turning this good alpha into this insatiable beast.
And once his mind clears, he’s going to hate me for what I’ve made him do.
I always ruin everything.
“So sweet,” Pace whispers as his hand leaves my chest, sliding down to rest on my hip. He squeezes me before pushing his thumb under the hem of my rain-soaked t-shirt. He caresses my skin, a slow, deliberate circle, and the pain in my body erupts.
A fresh gush of slick soaks my shorts, and I shake violently, a helpless tremor wracking my frame. It feels like my body is betraying me from the inside out. A deep, involuntary ache spreads through my pelvis as my muscles relax, opening me up even more.
More fluid pours from my body in a humiliating, unstoppable rush, a biological surrender that I can’t control, making the seat beneath me wet and slick.
The change in my body thrills Pace above me. He growls, a deep, satisfied sound, and lifts his head slightly to scent the air, his eyes closing for a second as he savors my smell. “That pretty honey scent,” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. “Fucking intoxicating.”
Then he shifts, pulling his own shirt off over his head. The sight of his bare chest, the muscles and scars stark in the dim light, sends a fresh wave of terror through me.
“P-please,” I beg, my voice cracking. “P-please let…let me go.” I start crying, hot, useless tears mixing with the rain on my face.
Another cramp hits me, and my abs flex hard.
Deep inside my back entrance, my hole opens, widening, aching for an alpha to fill me.
My cock pulses, a sharp, constant throb, every brush of fabric dragging across me like sandpaper.
I can even feel my zipper through my underwear, and I want nothing more than to tear every stitch of fabric off of me.
“Shhh, little omega,” Pace murmurs, his voice a low, soothing rumble that vibrates through my pain-fogged mind. “I’m going to fix you. I’m going to take all that pain away.”