Page 18 of Gold Rush
I jerk, holding my breath as I look around the upper floor.
A man steps out of the left hallway, and I scramble up from the couch, wrapping my arms around myself, conscious of my pajamas.
He’s partially in darkness, but I can still see the way his bare chest jolts with his inhale of a breath. His body goes rigid, and my eyes flicker over his skin, almost entirely covered with tattoos, thick and black against his pale, stocky torso. His stomach is rounded, like mine, but unlike mine, I can see the muscles corded under his skin, layers of muscle and fat working together to scream two things:strengthandalpha.
This isn’t Bennett, familiar and strong in a way that oozes kindness. It’s not Seth, approachable and instinctivelysafe. This stranger is broad, thick, and almost threatening with the way he stands so stock still, like moving to breathe is even a measured motion.
I freeze with him, snared, too scared to back away and too nervous to open my mouth.
After what feels like forever, he speaks in a growl.
“You shouldgo back to bed.”
His voice is dark, deep, andrough. It’s so harsh, like he’s holding himself back from saying something more, but the unspoken words float into my brain.I interrupted him. I upset him.
I flinch toward the stairs, my brain working overtime to process the involuntary movement to follow his order. It’s abark. Hebarkedat me and I’m powerless to do anything but listen, wavering as I keep my stare on him, my feet edging me toward the stairs.
“Go.”
The single command is powerful, and I scurry away, back down the stairs as my heart pounds. Confusion and alarm hit me as I comply — I don’t like that I’m suddenly this beholden to a stranger’s request, and I stop at the bottom of the stairs, jerking my head to look up at him.
The alpha ishuge, silhouetted above me at the top of the staircase.
“Go to sleep, little omega.”
My eyes feel heavy as I take a step back, ducking my head and running into my room, slamming the door behind me and locking it. I barely make it into the bed, between the covers before my eyes slip shut.
I wish the light had been brighter upstairs. I wish I’d been able to see him. I wish I remembered his name. I wish I couldfight the futile wave of exhaustion as it crashes with the alpha’s command and sweeps me away, forcing my body to sleep, his harsh voice ringing in my ears.
CHAPTER NINE
THEO
I shouldn’t openthe door.
But I want to. It’s begging me to.
Because I know that behind it is the answer to why there’s been soft laughter drifting up from downstairs since this afternoon. Behind it is theomegathat Seth and Bennett brought home even though Arin isn’t here.
I’ve been hiding.
I don’t want to see them — any of them.
My fingers curl over the doorknob, forehead resting on the wood as my ears pick up the soft sniffling. She’s crying. She’s outside my door and she’s softly sobbing on my couch while Seth and Bennett are asleep on the floor below us.
I turn the knob quietly, and pull the door open, only to get hit in the face with the sweetest smell — thick sweetness, dripping and mixing with the herbal smell of tea, like a warm mug on a rainy morning. It makes my head spin as I stand still, letting it wash over me.
I should’ve bought that scent canceling spray.
I put the scent canceling wash in the guest room, but either she didn’t use it, or it doesn’t work, because the moment mybrain adjusts to her perfume, it’s picking through it. I smell the slight bitterness in it, thehurt.
And she is just sitting there, in front of the windows, staring at the darkened street.
She’sgorgeous. The dim light catches on the red in her hair, making her stand out like fire in the dark. Her jaw and face are soft, rounded, her torso swallowed by a big sweatshirt. I can’t see anything but her knees up to her chest and her head resting there, but I’m suddenly certain the rest of her is just as beautiful.
And she looks so sad.
The urge to comfort her hits me, and I fight it, choking to hold still, forcing myself not to make a sound. Ineverwanted an omega. I’ve spent my entire life putting myself as far away from any possibility of crossing paths with one as humanly possible.
