Chapter 33 #2
“The fuck you do,” I growl, edging closer. My efforts to control my beast are losing, and my hands curl into tight fists. I’m begging him to flinch first so I can take any excuse to beat his ass.
“Enough!”
The word hits like a physical force. I've heard about omega bark. Read about it. Never felt it. My body stops. Every muscle locks. My shoulders are tense, hands curled so tight my nails bite into my palms.
My alpha goes completely silent for the first time in weeks.
I can't fucking move.
She steps forward and looks at… him. The asshole that dared lay a hand on her. “Seth, I’m so sorry. I’ve recently found my scent mates and things are… new.”
His face is an angry red. He wants to hit me I can tell. There’s no better time. I literally can’t even raise my arm to defend myself. Instead he goes all soft, the mother fucker.
“I understand the power of scent, but—” and here he turns his smug face toward me. I want to kill him. “But, if you decide he isn’t the alpha for you, give me a call. And not just for… you know.”
I will kill this man. Literally end him.
When I can move my arms.
Lark spears me with her golden eyes. “You—”
Her voice cracks. The sound snaps something inside of me.
“Lark, please. I’m sorry.” I take a tentative step forward.
She slaps a palm against my chest as I move in to take her into my arms.
"You have been dismissive. Hostile." A single tear falls, which she ignores.
"The single most infuriating alpha I have ever met.
And I have been patient. I have been so patient.
Because I could see it. I could see you underneath all of it.
The person I texted for weeks who made me laugh and told me about his mother and calmed my nerves when I sent a smiley face. " Her voice cracks.
"That's the Saint I kept waiting for. That's the one I kept making excuses for. That's the one I could love if you would just let me in."
I try to hug her again. “Lark, I know. I just snapped when he—”
“When he what? Treated me like an omega of value? Spoke to me?”
“But he didn’t. He just wants to—” I look around at the room full of eyes watching us. I pull her over to a booth.
“He was looking at you like… like he wanted to do more than be nice to you.”
She scoffs. “So? “
“So?” I repeat.
“Women look at you like that all the time.”
“And how would you feel if any of those women touched me? Implied that they could treat me better than you?”
Her nostrils flare, but she doesn’t respond, at least not right away. After a few seconds of each of us breathing deep she finally speaks.
“The difference is that I’ve never rejected you. You, however, have never once treated me with unreserved kindness. Except for our texts. I loved those. I was embarrassed by how much. I looked forward to you messaging every day. Was actually happy to meet you that day at the clinic, and then—”
She wipes a tear and something inside me cracks. I did this. I made her feel like shit. I’ve been a total alpha-hole and deserve every bit of shit she throws back at me. I deserve all of it. Probably more, if I’m being honest with myself.
The truth is, I’m probably too fucked up to have someone like Lark.
“I’m leaving.” She stands from the booth.
It’s not what I was expecting her to say, and somehow it’s exactly what I expected her to say. I wouldn’t stay with me either. But it doesn’t stop the panic rising in my chest.
I grab for her hand. “Lark, please. Let me at least take you home. We can talk about this later, after you and I have had time to think about things.”
She turns, putting up one palm. “Don’t follow me. Please. I just need—” she swallows. “I just need a little time. Please stay in here for a while.”
No, my alpha surges forward. Follow her!
I force him down.
“Saint!” a voice calls from the counter. “Lark!”
Our drinks are ready.
Lark looks down at me. For two long, terrible seconds. Then she turns and storms out the door.
I wait. Not long. Just long enough to give her space to calm down. Just long enough for me to force my alpha back down. Just long enough for Baseball Seth, or whatever the fuck his name is, to get in his car. Then I walk to the counter and collect the drinks.
I step outside into the late afternoon sun. My Jeep sits exactly where I parked it. Lark does not.
I scan the street. I don’t see her walking down the sidewalk. She probably called an Uber back to the house.
It’s for the best.
I climb into the driver’s seat and set both lattes into the cup holders then start the engine. I move slowly, intentionally taking my time. I don’t want to arrive home too soon after she does.
When I decide she’s had enough of a head start, I shift gears and pull slowly from my parking spot. My phone starts buzzing before I even leave the lot.
Pack Caron Thread
Lark: Heading to the office for a while. Need some time to myself!
Graham: Beautiful, you are too close to your heat to be alone.
A second later:
Silas: Saint, WTF did you do?
I grip the steering wheel.
Everything. I did everything wrong.
WTF, indeed.
I pick my phone back up and punch in my response.
Graham: Saint, where are you?
Saint: On my way to the warehouse.
The drive should take thirty minutes. It feels like a fucking hour.
At first I tell myself it’s fine. She’s just angry.
She has every right to be. I’ve been a dick.
I haven’t shown her any attention. I’ve intentionally sat back and allowed the others to step in as her alphas while I, what?
Scowled? Acted like a fucking baby because I’m a scared little chicken shit too afraid to have an omega?
I’m all types of fucked up and I took it out on Lark. On my omega. The one person on earth who was made for me.
Maybe Silas was right. Maybe I should go to therapy.
But before I can follow that thought, my brain starts doing what it does best. Running scenarios.
What if she spikes in the rideshare? What if the driver notices? What if something goes wrong and I'm not there? I know what happens when you're not there. I know exactly what happens.
My grip tightens on the wheel.
My phone sits on the passenger seat. I grab it at the next stoplight and type one quick message.
Saint: Tell me you’re okay.
The light turns green. No response.
I toss the phone back onto the seat and force myself not to speed. By the time I pull into the OmegaBox warehouse lot, I’ve imagined every possible disaster. I’m still rolling through every conceivable horrible thing that might have happened to her when my thoughts stop altogether.
Red and blue lights flash across the lot. Dozens of people standing in small clusters. Looking at…
My gaze snaps to Warehouse Two. Or what’s left of it. The entire left side of the building has collapsed.
The side where Lark’s office is.
A series of texts hit my phone in rapid order. I ignore them. I have to get to her.
I shove my Jeep into park so fast it bounces me forward, my seatbelt cutting hard across my sternum. I don’t care. I’m out the door and running. Past police officers and firefighters. Straight toward the rubble.
This is what I’m trained for. And it’s the exact thing I’ve been most afraid of.
“Lark!”