Chapter 11
ROWAN
I’m still standing in the office, hand half-raised—could’ve stopped her, should’ve stopped her. One word and she would’ve stopped in the doorway. But I let her walk away because forcing an Omega to stay? That’s not dominance. That’s desperation.
Her scent still saturates the room—vanilla, jasmine, a blade of citrus that cuts straight through my control. That citrus note? It’s the laugh she tried to hide earlier, the challenge in her eyes. My brain catalogs it: mine to chase, mine to catch, mine to keep.
Every Alpha instinct I’ve spent years controlling goes feral and focused. I’d want her even if she wasn’t Omega—but she IS, and that truth rewrites every rule I thought I had.
The biology doesn’t make me want her. It makes me need her. There’s a difference, and it’s the difference between a want I could walk away from and a hunger that’ll follow me into every room of this house.
My cock’s still heavy against the inside of my thigh, proof that control’s a fucking myth when it comes to her.
I picture her heading down the hall—bare feet, looking for something to write the names of her friends. That word triggers something territorial and ugly in my chest. Are any of them men?
Has someone else already scented her, touched her, made her laugh that citrus-bright laugh? The jealousy is instant, irrational, and so fucking potent I taste it.
“Shit.”
No. If she had someone waiting for her, Nexus would’ve flagged it. Eli would’ve told us.
Still, the thought roots in my head like a bad weed. Someone else holding her. Touching her. Someone else’s scent on her skin that’s not me or Cassian or Eli.
I drag in a breath that does nothing but pull more of her into me.
She’s too new to this place to see the walls yet. To see what she does to all of us.
And I can’t be the first one to break.
I sit, elbows on my knees, hands laced tight. The room smells like her and restraint. Like everything I can’t have.
I need to let her go.
Let her breathe.
But the problem is—I already know what she tastes like.
And fuck, what’s it going to be like when she goes into heat?
I have to get out of here—out of this room full of her scent, her want, and my restraint—before I do something we’re not ready for. Before I follow her scent down the hall, push open her door, and show her exactly what an Alpha does when an Omega tastes like mine.
Before I find out what other sounds she makes when I put my mouth on her in other places.
Jess
Idon’t realize I’m holding my breath until I’m halfway down the hall.
Exhale.
It doesn’t help. My lungs still ache like I left something vital back in Rowan’s office—something he touched when he kissed me, and now it belongs to him. That’s the part that scares me. Not the kiss. The fact that I want to go back for more.
I should keep walking. Pretend my heart isn’t still racing, that my body isn’t still tuned to the sound of his voice saying my name like a promise he regrets making. But the air in here is thick with his scent—sandalwood and rain, and that dark heat underneath that makes my stomach twist.
I press my palm to the wall and breathe shallow.
It doesn’t matter.
It can’t.
He’s an Alpha--powerful, controlled, permanent. I’m whatever the hell I am right now. Temporary. That’s what I am here for. What I’ve always been everywhere. How I didn’t matter to my mom or dad after Sabrina disappeared.
My hands still shake. I stare at them—these traitorous things that won’t obey me even now—and all I can think about is how steady his were. How careful. Like he’d done this before: touched something breakable and didn’t let it shatter. I’m not breakable.
I’ve survived all these years proving it. But the way Rowan kissed me? Like I was something precious instead of something they’d experimented on? That could break me. That could make me forget what I am.
I’m supposed to be looking for a pen. Paper. Writing down Casey, Danica, and Kayla’s names.
Yet, I’m standing in this hallway replaying a kiss I shouldn’t have wanted. A kiss that didn’t feel like biology. That felt like choice. And choice is the one thing I never thought I’d have as an Omega.
My pulse spikes again, unfurling low and wrong.
I’ve felt this before, the edge of it, back at Nexus when they said I was “stable.” But stable doesn’t feel like this.
Stable doesn’t make your body hum for someone who barely touched you.
That should terrify me. It does terrify me.
But not enough to make me stop wanting it.
I shove off the wall and start walking—fast enough that my bare feet slap against the floor, that maybe I can outrun the want curling through my veins. But I already know the truth: You can’t outrun biology.
And you can’t outrun something that’s already caught you. Rowan caught me the moment he looked at me like I mattered. And I’m not sure I want to be let go.