13. Sterling #2
I wave goodbye to Daisy with a grateful smile and turn to leave. “Thanks again.” I step away from her booth before I pause. “Oh—do you know if there are any soap vendors around here? I’ve been looking for something handmade.”
Daisy squints down the row of booths. “Yeah, two stalls down, past the honey stand—lavender umbrellas. You’ll smell them before you see them. The peppermint is Cass’s favorite,” she adds with a wink.
“Thanks, Daisy,” I say, mentally wondering why she felt the need to tell me that . Does she think I’m going to buy him soap? Or worse—does she think he might be in my house long enough to actually use it?
“Anytime, babe,” she replies, already halfway back behind the counter, as if our conversation didn’t interrupt her rhythm.
I turn and make my way across the uneven cobblestones. The market is bustling—voices overlapping, scents of fresh basil, sea air, and woodsmoke curling together in the air. It’s warm for the coast, the sunlight slanting through gaps in the awnings.
I find the soap booth right where Daisy said it would be and make quick work of grabbing what I need. My thirty minutes are almost up, and something tells me that pack would definitely send out a search party if I wasn’t back exactly when I said I would be.
The thought sends a little warmth curling through my chest.
I’m still smiling to myself when I round the corner—right into a solid wall of muscle.
“Oh—” I gasp, dropping my basket from the impact. Apples and greens tumble out, scattering across the sidewalk in a spill of color.
Strong hands shoot out to steady me. “Whoa there,” a deep voice says, goosebumps cascade over my skin and not in a good way. “Easy, sweetheart.”
I look up into a face I don’t recognize, but the smile he gives me is cocky confidence and teeth.
Instantly, every part of me goes on alert. My body recognizes the tone, the posture, the way his hands linger just a moment too long. My Omega instincts scream not safe .
“I’m so sorry,” I say quickly, stepping back, trying to put space between us, but his gaze doesn’t move from my face.
“No harm done.” He flashes that too bright smile again. “But a pretty thing like you should watch where you’re going. Not all Alphas are as forgiving as me.”
My stomach turns. I bend down to grab the few things that fell and pick up my basket again, intending to make a clean break.
I don’t like the way this Alpha feels. “Thanks,” I murmur quickly, already moving to stand—only to realize my mistake.
While I was crouched, he’d taken the opportunity to move closer. Too close.
“Hey there,” he says smoothly, flashing a grin that’s just a little too sharp. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
I take a step sideways, aiming to skirt around him with a polite smile and the classic ‘I’m too nice to be rude’ dodge, but my nerves are on edge. He’s tripping every internal alarm I’ve got. He feels like danger in a too-tight shirt. Like my ex’s pack. And I definitely don’t like it.
He moves with me.
One step to block me. Another to crowd me in even more.
“I haven’t seen you around before,” he says, voice low, the kind of tone meant for a bedroom, not a street corner. “You new in town?”
“Yeah,” I reply flatly, keeping it short, my eyes already scanning for a gap in the crowd. “Just here for the market.”
But there’s nowhere to go. I’m pinned between a booth and the narrow sidewalk that leads into a mostly empty alley. I don’t want to go that way—but it’s the only option if I want to get away from him.
“Thought so,” he smirks. “You’ve got that fresh ‘not from here’ scent.”
I go rigid. His gaze rakes over me slowly, blatantly, and I suddenly feel stripped bare. He’s trying to herd me. To steer me toward the alley.
I try to move again, still polite—still trying not to make a scene.
But the market crowd makes it impossible to double back. So, stupidly, I turn toward the alley. I figure I can outrun him if I need to. It loops back to the main block. I just need to get through.
“I should get going,” I say over my shoulder, briskly moving toward the alley entrance. But the second I round the corner, my gut drops.
Dead end.
A fence I hadn’t seen before blocks the far end of the alley, cutting off any chance of escape. I spin to backtrack, only to find him there again—blocking the mouth of the alley.
He steps toward me, his heat pressing in. Panic flares.
“Easy, sweetheart.” His voice is laced with satisfaction. “Just wanted to make introductions. Not every day a fresh little Omega rolls into town.”
His eyes gleam. “You smell real sweet,” he mumbles—and then he leans in, aiming for my neck. No. No, no, no . He’s going to scent-mark me. Without permission. A thick wave of panic floods me.
My body reacts before my brain can catch up.
I jerk back, my hand flying up to push him away. “Back off?—”
His fingers close around my arm, just above the elbow—tight, controlling.
“Hey now,” he says, like I’m being dramatic. “No need to be rude.”
“I said I’m not interested,” I snap, twisting, trying to yank free, but his grip just tightens.
He holds me back, step by step, until I’m pressed against the rough brick wall at the edge of the alley, boxed in by him, the wall and the fence. The market noise feels miles away. I desperately want his hands off me.
“Easy,” he says again, like I’m a spooked horse, reaching for my face.
And suddenly, a burning sensation rises in my chest. I’m shaking—but it’s not fear. It’s fury.
I’m so damn tired of this.
Tired of my choices being taken away. Tired of this goddamn Omega biology that makes everyone think they have the right to touch me, claim me, control me.
I’m done with it.
I’m done with arrogant Alphas thinking they get to decide who I am or what I want.
I slap him as hard as I can with my free hand.
The crack of my palm against his face echoes. He reels back for half a second, stunned.
And I take the chance, shoving at his chest. “Get the fuck out of my space,” I hiss. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but this shit is not okay.”
I feel powerful and fierce until I see the look in his eyes.
Rage.
“You little bitch,” he snarls, lunging.
His hands clamp down hard on my arms, yanking me forward and hauling me up against him. Panic spikes—but so does rage.
And I’m struck again by the bitter unfairness of my own biology.
Omegas are built smaller. Softer. Supposedly more fragile. We’re wired to submit, to yield, to be owned. But not today. Not me.
There’s no way I’m getting out of this without bruises, but I’ll be damned if I don’t go down swinging.
I’m just about to drive my knee into his balls when?—
A snarl rips through the alley, low and deadly.
“What in the hell is going on?”
The sound hits me like a shockwave—pure, feral Alpha rage. It skitters across my skin, electric and primal, sending every Omega instinct inside me cringing. Submitting. Wanting to curl in on itself.
Cass is here.
He’s a wall of fury and muscle, eyes blazing, shoulders tight with rage. Quinn looms just behind him, calm but coiled, the second wave of a storm.
And I’ve never been so relieved—or so completely overwhelmed—in my life.
Cass hauls the other Alpha off me with so much force he careens into the brick wall on the opposite side of the alley.
“She’s not interested,” Cass growls, his voice low, dangerous, vibrating with something primal.
I barely have time to register his presence before he steps in front of me, his body a solid, immovable wall. Then Quinn comes up behind me, pulling me into the circle of his arms.
The stranger hesitates, his eyes flicking between the two towering Alphas who easily dwarf him.
“Didn’t realize she was claimed,” he mutters, his tone trying for neutral but landing somewhere closer to confrontational. “I don’t see any bond marks.”
Like the only reason I’d say no is because I already belonged to someone else.
The thought makes my blood boil. I try to step out of Quinn’s arms, ready to tell this guy exactly where he can shove that archaic logic?—
But Quinn doesn’t let go.
And Cass doesn’t budge.
“She’s not,” he snaps, stepping even closer, effectively boxing me in against the wall and Quinn.
Cass’s scent rolls over me—a sharp predatory edge to it running over my skin like a caress. It lights me up and makes my heart pound in my chest.
“But she’s also not yours. And doesn’t need to be claimed to say no to you.”
There’s a beat of silence.
The other Alpha lingers a moment too long.
Cass growls again—deeper this time, making the hairs on the back of my arms stand up.
“I suggest you get fucking lost,” Cass snarls, his voice low and lethal, his entire body vibrating with the effort it’s taking to hold himself back.
If I were the other guy, I’d be pissing my pants.
Because this? This is full Alpha mode. Not just protective, not just posturing—but pure, territorial, ‘how dare you fucking touch what’s mine’ energy. It rolls off both of them in waves. I’ve never felt anything like it.
Quinn’s jaw ticks, his grip around my waist steel-tight and the feel of his lean body pressed against my back, while Cass looks like he’s one second away from ripping the guy’s throat out.
The stranger finally seems to get the message.
He lifts his hands slowly, palms out in a mock surrender, trying to play it cool, but I see the flicker of fear in his eyes.
“Well, if you change your mind, sweetheart…” he mutters, retreating with a forced smirk. “I’ll be around.”
My spine straightens.
I step forward—just enough to break slightly from Quinn’s hold—and glare at him, my voice sharp and full of heat. “If I ever changed my mind, you’d be the last prick I’d change it for.”
He pauses mid-step, shoulders stiffening at the insult.
“Keep walking,” Cass growls, his voice a dangerous low rumble behind me.
The stranger doesn’t look back.
Good.
A shiver runs through me, the aftershocks of the adrenaline—and the raw, protective energy of the Alphas at my back—skittering along my skin. Quinn tightens his grip again, his chin brushing the top of my head.
“What the actual hell is wrong with people?” I mutter, trying to downplay the fact that I’m completely jacked up. My chest’s tight, breath shallow—I feel like I might start hyperventilating any second.
“Shhh, love,” Quinn murmurs, voice low and steady, a grounding force in the chaos. “We’re here.”
The words shouldn’t mean as much as they do. I feel all the intensity of the last few minutes lodge in my chest…
He dips his head, brushing his nose along my temple, and I feel him inhale, deep and instinctual, like he’s trying to memorize my scent. It feels grounding and I close my eyes. He keeps it up like it’s also calming him down. Like it’s the only thing that could.
“Quinn, go make sure that guy understands what’ll happen if he ever lays a hand on her again—and tell JP and Blake to head toward home. I’ll see you later.”
Cass’s voice is low and lethal, vibrating with Alpha command. I feel it more than hear it; it slides under my skin and wraps around my spine. A full-body shiver follows, and I don’t know if it’s fear or comfort or both.
Quinn doesn’t argue. He just gives me one last long look. His eyes meet mine—and underneath all that Alpha steel, I see it. The question. The worry. The need to make sure I’m okay.
Then, without a word, he pulls me into his arms and inhales, rubbing his cheek against mine. He scent marks me and I let him because, somehow, it feels right.
Just Quinn, warm and solid, checking on me, comforting me in exactly the way I needed but didn’t know how to ask for.
His gaze flicks to Cass, and something silent but heavy passes between them. A nod. A pulse of understanding. Trust and all pack. They don’t say anything, but the connection between them is tangible—solid and fierce.
And then Quinn turns and walks off without another word.
Leaving me standing here.
Shaken.
Held in place by the weight of what just happened. And the Alpha still standing in front of me.
Cass.
Unmoving. Burning. He walks me back slowly, step by step, until—for the second time in thirty minutes—my back is pressed against a brick wall, his gaze scalding as he looks at me.
But this time, I don’t flinch. I lean in, tilting my face up, and press my lips to his. Soft at first, uncertain—but then all the tension that’s been lodged in my chest pours into the kiss, spilling over until it feels like if he doesn’t kiss me back, I might actually die.