Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
RIANN
Skylar pulls me into her chest, and I curl up against her.
The blanket I brought with me from the academy is tucked around us, soaking up every bit of her scent.
When I put it in my duffel bag, I know it’s going to make all my things smell like her, and the thought of bringing her scent back to my nest has my insides fluttering.
I hate the thought of leaving, but at least I’ll have a piece of her to hold onto.
She seems to have unlimited stamina, and I’m pretty sure she would have fucked me all night if I hadn’t tapped out after the eighth orgasm. Every inch of me is exhausted, inside and out, and it’s utter bliss.
Her arm wraps around my waist, pulling me closer, and I trace the tattoos on her other forearm absentmindedly. My fingers skate over the contours of her chiseled torso, admiring every bit of her. She’s so fucking gorgeous it hurts.
I can’t imagine how many hours in the gym it took for her to get to this point, but her dedication is admirable.
“You’re very sexy,” I say, tilting my head up to look at her.
One of her eyes pops open—I don’t know when she closed them—and she looks at me. “You think so?”
I nod against her chest. “I could stare at you forever.”
With a chuckle, she rolls onto her side to face me. My fingers move to explore her back, dancing over the dips and curves as I try to memorize each one of them. I want to brand every inch of her on the backs of my eyelids, so when I close them I can picture her perfectly.
I nuzzle into her chest, closing my eyes as I take a deep breath, letting her scent fill me completely.
Fuck, I don’t want to walk away from this.
It feels like I’m racing toward the sun, waiting for the impact where everything blows up in my face. My heart stings at the thought of losing all of this, of losing her, and I know I have to say something.
I can’t miss my chance to tell her how I feel just because I’m afraid. Not when that fear could be the very thing that keeps me from being happy.
My stomach turns with nerves.
“Skylar,” I say gently. We’ve talked about me leaving, but we haven’t talked about what’s going to happen when I’m actually gone. What will happen to us.
We need to work that out before tomorrow, so we’re not scrambling by the time we say goodbye. So we’re not trying to figure things out when we’re a thousand miles apart.
“What is it, preciosa?” she asks. “What’s wrong?”
Her hand skirts up my back and over my shoulder, before her strong fingers stroke the space between my brows, like she’s trying to smooth out my worry lines. We stare at one another for a long, painful second. Tension works through me, threatening to suffocate me.
This feels so heavy and serious after all the fucking we’ve done this week, and I’ve never been good at articulating how I feel.
“Where do we go from here?” I ask.
Her hand pauses, and her face clouds over as her gaze drifts, completely avoiding mine. My heart sinks, and I feel like I’ve said exactly the thing to kill our cozy mood.
“What is it?” I ask, unable to keep the hurt out of my voice. “Do you not want to be with me?”
She cocks her head to the side. “When did I say that?”
Her response should bring me some kind of comfort, but it doesn’t. Maybe my insides are just too twisted up with anxiety, or maybe I need some other kind of reassurance. Proof that she wants me as badly as I want her.
When she doesn’t answer fast enough, I keep talking to fill the silence.
“It kind of feels like when I leave tomorrow that… we’re breaking up.” Awkward heat swallows me. We haven’t even talked about being a couple and, here I am, talking about breaking up.
My throat is tight, emotions pushing and pulling at me while my eyes remain locked on her.
“We’re not breaking up,” she says softly, her fingers trailing along my jaw. Her eyes still won’t meet mine, lingering on my mouth instead. “You’re just going home. You have classes at the academy, and I have work.”
I squirm in her hold, trying to eliminate the space between us, but I’m already pressed flush against her.
“And then?” I ask, working past the lump of emotion in my throat. “What does that look like? Would it be like a long-distance relationship where we video chat and tandem masturbate or something?”
She smirks at the joke and places a kiss on my forehead, her lips lingering against my skin. “You’ll come back to the clinic for more tests, so I’ll get to see you again. I’m sure we could bring you back in the next month, so it won’t be that long.”
My heart drops even further as I realize what she’s really saying: she wants my samples, more tests to further her research, and getting to see me will just be a bonus.
Nausea turns my stomach, but I keep going, the words spilling out before I can stop them.
“But what if I don’t come back?”
I have no idea what the academy is going to say when they find out I’m a delta. I might not be allowed to leave again until I receive a bite from an alpha.
Hell, I might not even be able to attend once they find out what I am.
In that case, I’ll have to get a job and find a place to live. I won’t be able to just leave everything and fly across the country at the drop of a hat. It could be months before I see her again, and the thought of waiting so long drives a painful spike deep into the center of my chest.
“You will,” she assures me. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it, preciosa. Everything is going to be fine.”
Again, it’s not what I want to hear, but I still don’t want to ruin the mood.
I want to enjoy what’s left of my limited time with her, instead of throwing a fit and demanding she define our relationship. It’s not that I want to put a label on it. I just want to know if she expects anything more than us fucking in a mildly shitty hotel room.
Instead of arguing, I lean to press my lips against the hollow of her throat, smiling at the way she stiffens. She groans as I tease my tongue over her skin, a rumble rolling in her chest that has slick pooling between my thighs again.
“What happened to tapping out?” She chuckles as her hand slides down to grab my ass.
“I’m just teasing.” I kiss the hard muscle of her shoulder.
“I don’t think you know the power you have over me, Riann Saunders.” Her voice is low and rumbly, and I know I’m seconds away from starting something that’ll have me crying out and coming in minutes flat.
I open my mouth to say something, but my mind goes fuzzy. At first, I think it might be the exhaustion setting in—after all, we’ve been going at it for hours, and my body probably needs a break.
However, an intense urge to push Skylar hard into the mattress swoops in out of nowhere. Instead of wanting to snuggle up against her, I want to toss her around the way she did me earlier. I want to sink my teeth into her to make her mine.
The urge is so unexpected that it gives me pause and leaves me a little flustered.
Maybe it’s all the emotions mixed with my anxiety about leaving tomorrow. Or maybe I just need to get some sleep.
I shake away the thought of pinning Skylar to the mattress and look up to meet her gaze.
“Not enough power for you to let me to touch you, obviously.” The words come out with an edge that has Skylar tensing against me. “Not enough power for you to want me to stay.”
The air between us thickens until it’s hard to choke down a single breath. I don't understand what's happening, but my heart lurches when my thoughts grow even foggier.
Skylar stares at me, her jaw hard and her brows furrowed, and the urge to growl tickles the back of my throat. It doesn’t make sense, and even as the thought crosses my mind, I know it’s wrong.
But I can’t help it.
The urge is there, swelling in me, making me uncomfortable the longer she watches me.
“I didn’t say I don’t want you to stay,” she says slowly, her stare growing more intense, like she’s trying to see straight into my brain and figure out what’s wrong with me. “But it’s not that simple. You can’t just uproot your entire life and move to Boston.”
I bristle at her words.
Why is she being so stubborn? She says I can’t abandon my life to move here, but I would in a heartbeat if she asked.
I would leave it all behind and build a new life here with her.
But the way she’s acting, assuming I won’t bend over backward for the chance to be close to her, has the restless force in me morphing into frustration.
I clench my teeth.
Maybe she doesn’t want me as badly as I thought after all.
At least, not as much as I want her.
My nails dig into my palms, the pain slicing through my hazy thoughts. For a moment, I’m able to think clearly.
I bite my bottom lip to keep it from wobbling, and Skylar softens against me. She pumps her scent into the air to calm me, but the depression in my chest grows heavier. Her scent is delicious and amazing, but it’s not what I need more of right now.
I need her words, her reassurance. I need her to be open and vulnerable the way I’m trying to be.
I need to know exactly what she’s thinking, but it still feels like there’s a carefully constructed wall between us.
Like she’s still clinging to a thin layer of professionalism to avoid the messy, painful, emotional bits.
Beating around the bush obviously isn’t going to work here.
If I want to crash through that wall and get to the bottom of things, to find out why she’s so passive about letting me fly back home, I have to be more direct. I have to say what’s on my mind, the burning question I haven’t been able to get off my mind since I found out I’m a delta.
I want her bite.
I want her to claim me, to mark me as hers.
I’ve known it since the instant she told me about the designation switch that I wanted it to be her. There will never be anyone else for me.
Even if something fucks up and my designation doesn’t change, whether I become an omega or not, I want to be hers.
My breaths deepen as I try to get a hold of my feelings. I’m getting worked up for no reason, and every time I unclench my fists, my thoughts begin to cloud up again. Like the bite of my fingernails is the only thing keeping me from going insane, which sounds… insane.
“What's wrong, preciosa?”
“I—”
To be honest, I’m not sure what’s wrong, but something is definitely off.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that are clawing up my throat, but another urge slams into me, hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.
My gaze snaps to hers as that force dominates me, turning my vision red for a moment.
Raw, feral power rolls through my body, gripping me like a vice before fading again.
I gasp a sharp breath, trying to stay calm.
I feel like I’m losing my mind.
“It can be that simple,” I choke out, trying to focus on Skylar. “People do it all the time. Alphas meet their omegas and claim them almost instantly…”
I trail off as my thoughts go fuzzy, and I dig my nails into my palms until I can’t take it anymore.
I won't let this beat me.
I can stay in control.
Anger rolls in my chest, and while I can admit it feels a little misplaced—like my instincts are taking over and twisting my feelings from hurt to rage—I can’t tamp them down.
Dread slams into me like a cold wave as I recognize the feeling.
The anger that whispers of violence, lacing my veins like a drug, is familiar because I’ve felt it before.
It’s the same energy that took me over last month, right before my rut.