Chapter 11
Harper
The suitcase wouldn't close. I pressed down harder, shoving clothes that smelled like sex and bad decisions into every corner. My hands shook as I tried to zip it shut, the metal teeth refusing to cooperate.
The suite was quiet. Knox had finally fallen asleep an hour ago after our third round of... I couldn't even call it sex anymore. It was something else. Something primal and consuming that left marks on my soul as deep as the ones on my skin.
I grabbed my medical bag, trying to ignore how my legs still trembled.
The heat had subsided to a manageable ache, though my body protested every movement away from the Alpha sleeping in the next room.
The bond pulled at me like invisible chains, making each step toward the door feel like walking through quicksand.
My hand was on the doorknob when I heard it. The creak of a floorboard. The shift of air that meant I wasn't alone anymore.
"Going somewhere?" Knox's voice was rough with sleep and something darker.
I didn't turn around. "I have to leave."
"No, you don't."
"Knox, please. Just let me go," I said quietly.
"Turn around, Harper."
"No."
"Turn. Around."
Something in his voice made my body obey before my mind could protest. He stood there in only boxers, his entire body coiled with tension. His eyes were pure black, no trace of gray left.
"You're trying to run," he stated, not a question.
"I'm trying to salvage what's left of my career," I corrected.
"By leaving in the middle of the night? Like a coward?"
The word stung. "Like someone who understands consequences."
He moved closer, and I pressed back against the door. "The only consequence that matters is what happens if you leave right now," he said.
"What, you'll be upset? You'll get over it," I said, trying for dismissive.
"No, Harper. You'll die."
I laughed, sharp and bitter. "Don't be dramatic."
"Your heat isn't over," he said, stepping closer. "You're between waves. If you leave now, without an Alpha, when the next one hits..."
"I've handled heats alone before," I protested.
"Not like this. Not after being claimed. Your body won't accept suppressants anymore, not fully. And the intensity..." He was close enough now that his scent wrapped around me. "It could kill you."
"You're lying," I accused, but my voice shook.
"You're a doctor. You know I'm not."
I did know. Had read the studies about claimed Omegas, about the biological changes that happened after a bond formed. But admitting that meant admitting everything else.
"I'll risk it," I said, reaching for the doorknob again.
His hand slammed against the door beside my head, caging me in. "No."
"You can't keep me here," I said, meeting his eyes.
"Watch me."
"Knox, move," I demanded.
"No."
"This is kidnapping," I pointed out.
"This is keeping you alive," he countered.
His scent was overwhelming this close, pine and smoke and pure Alpha dominance that made my knees weak. I could feel the heat starting to build again, sparked by his proximity.
"I hate you," I whispered, but my body was already responding, producing slick, preparing itself.
"No, you don't," he said softly.
"You've ruined everything," I accused.
"I've claimed what's mine," he corrected.
"I'm not yours!" I shoved at his chest, hard.
He didn't budge. Instead, he caught my wrists, pinning them against the door above my head with one hand. The position made me arch, bringing our bodies flush together.
"Say that again," he challenged, his free hand trailing down my side.
"I'm not..." The words died as his fingers found the claiming mark, pressing gently.
The sensation shot straight to my core, making me gasp. My body's response was immediate and humiliating, more slick coating my thighs.
"Your body knows better," he murmured against my ear. "It knows exactly who you belong to."
"Biology isn't ownership," I managed to say.
"No?" His thumb traced the mark again, and I whimpered. "Then why are you trembling? Why is your scent calling to me? Why are you producing so much slick I can smell it through your clothes?"
"Stop," I pleaded, but my hips were moving, seeking friction.
"You stop," he said. "Stop fighting this. Stop fighting us."
"There is no us," I insisted.
He laughed, dark and knowing. "Harper, there's been an us since the moment you walked into that training room. We were just too stubborn to admit it."
"Knox, please," I begged, not sure what I was asking for anymore.
"Please what? Please let you go? Please let you run away and potentially die? Or please give you what your body is screaming for?"
Another wave of heat crashed through me, so intense I cried out. My legs gave out, but Knox caught me, lifting me easily.
"That's what I thought," he said, carrying me back to his bed.
"I still want to leave," I said weakly as he laid me down.
"After," he promised, already pulling at my clothes. "After your heat is fully over, if you still want to leave, I won't stop you."
"You promise?" I asked, even as I helped him remove my shirt.
"I promise," he said, then his mouth was on mine, and I couldn't think about leaving anymore.
The heat consumed me again, worse than before, and I understood with crushing clarity that he'd been right. Leaving would have killed me. The biological need was too strong, the bond too new.
"I still hate you," I gasped as he moved down my body.
"I know," he said against my skin.
"This doesn't change anything," I insisted.
"We'll see," he murmured.
But as my body submitted to his, as the omega in me recognized and accepted its Alpha, I knew it changed everything. The way my neck bared without my permission when he growled. The way my body positioned itself for him without conscious thought. The complete surrender that felt like coming home.
I was scent-drunk, heat-lost, completely at the mercy of biology I couldn't control.
"Mine," Knox growled as he claimed me again.
And the worst part? The part that made me want to cry?
My body sang in agreement.
"Yours," I whispered, hating myself for the truth of it.
The door remained closed. My suitcase sat abandoned. And I surrendered to the inevitable, even as I promised myself this was the last time.
But we both knew I was lying.