Page 9 of Gold Rush
She darts out of the room and then comes back with a spray bottle in her hands. Lifting it, she presses the nozzle, dousing me in a continuous stream that makes my eyes water. It’s like being covered in window cleaner — mixed with bleach. The moment she steps back, she inhales deeply. “I can’t smell your natural perfume. This should last us long enough to get there and back.”
I trust her, because she’s my only option, and throw on my jacket before following her out of the room and down a flight of stairs, sliding out a side door after her keycard unlocks it. Reporters have apparently been camped out at the front of the building allday, just hoping to get a glimpse of me, or have Denise answer questions about the ‘old omega.’
I try to ignore the unflattering name as I hustle to keep up with Laura, talking quietly as she navigates the sidewalks of London. “I think we can expect you to meet with two or three packs in the morning, maybe you can stay with one of them through this first heat and then go home?”
I did manage to get a representative on the phone from the American Embassy earlier, who confirmed that legally they couldn’t risk moving me out of the country until the heat passes. I feel like everyone is treating me with kid gloves — telling me in no-uncertain terms that making my own decisions is not an option anymore.
She tugs open the door to a little cafe and I step in, inhaling the smell of coffee and pastries, my stomach immediately growling.
Laura looks back at me, her lips twitching. “Order what you want to go. We’ll get back before anyone comes looking for you.”
I flash her a chagrined look before stepping up to the counter. The door said the cafe is closing in only twenty minutes, so I feel a little bad as I scan the remaining fresh options, trying to find something that doesn’t make my stomach full of potato chips churn.
The bell on the door behind me chimes and I feel the chilly wind as it ruffles my hair.
“We’ll find you someone decent from the stack of packs.” Laura’s voice is soft as she looks at me. “I promise. There are a lot of alphas who don’t want something traditional.”
I point to a pastry quickly, wrapping my arms around myself as I order a hot tea from the barista. Nothing that comes to my mind seems like the appropriate response to her statement. Of course I’m not a traditional option — I’m nearly thirty, don’t want children, refuse to remove my birth control, and have no interest in sleeping with strangers for a week.
So I say nothing and step back to give Laura some room.
Only, the second I do, I crash back into someoneelse.
Something rattles as it drops to the floor. “Whoa.” The voice is familiar, and olive-tan hands grab onto my arms, steadying me as I fumble and whirl around, looking at the man behind me. I glance down, taking in the bag of coffee beans before looking up again, unable to comprehend it as I blink.
It’sSeth. Elevator Seth. The Seth who sat on the floor with me while I had a panic attack two nights ago. The Seth with a bite mark on his shoulder — only his alpha is nowhere to be found as he stares at me, his hazel eyes wide.
“I — You —”
His hands are still on my arms. Their warmth seeps through my coat, my sweatshirt, searing into me as my brain ceases function. I flush and the spray has no hope to combat my body’s reaction.
It’s pure biology.
Home. An instinctive, bone-deep feeling settles in my chest as our eyes connect. It’s like I’ve known him my entire life — but this is only the second time we’ve ever crossed paths.
His brown eyes widen as my perfume blooms in the small cafe, the smell of honey and tea curling around us. I’m rewarded with the parting of his full lips as a whiff of chocolate fudge comes from him, overpowering the other light scents clinging to his clothes.
Seth blinks as Laura grabs my shoulder, her voice tight. “Let’sgo.”
I stumble to the side with her, taking my tea and pastry as she shoves them in my hands.
It’s terrifying — concerning — how much I want tostaywhen he looks at me, his voice croaking, “Wait —”
Laura tugs the door open, dragging me out of the cafe as he stares. She pushes me a few paces down the sidewalk. “Thankgodhe was only a beta, we need to get back before any alphas smell you.” Her eyes scan the road, frantic and on-edge, and I almost feel bad as I look over my shoulder, contemplating running away from her.
The cafe door is shut, and a part of me prays for another glimpse of the man —only a beta— that I just left behind.
CHAPTER FOUR
SETH
I leavethe cafe with a bag of coffee beans and a sense I just let half my soul walk away.
Which is weird, because my actual soulmate, Bennett, is the entire reason I went to buy coffee in the first place. We ran out this morning. Last time the pack was in London, collectively for business, we drank it all. I was already grabbing snacks for movie night and the cafe wasright there. It made sense to go in before they closed — except now I feel like it was meant to happen.
I’d know that face anywhere.
The same woman who was trapped in the elevator with us two nights ago. The same woman who stepped into the small space, with dark auburn hair swept back, a mess of waves, clad in only a pullover sweater and a pair of leggings. I’d felt my entire life shift when she’d pressed against the wall after nearly touching Bennett.
