She stared at me in blatant shock. Her leg was pressed to mine and I shifted away from the touch, burying myself against the far arm of the couch as discreetly as possible.
I’d never felt so itchy and uncomfortable before in her presence, but my mind was whirling now. What if she’d done what she did to me, to someone else?
Like Kiara.
I would be furious, so why wasn’t I furious for myself?
“Are you serious?” she asked.
“Dead serious,” I muttered, clenching my teeth.
With a huff, she stood. Finally. Her scent was cloying—if she’d been an omega, I would have had to cover my nose by now. It was a close call as it was.
“What the hell has gotten into you, Dash? We used to have so much fun.”
I did have fun. Too much, with people I never gave a fuck about because they never gave a fuck about me. I wore my charm as a shield. Usually, I never would have said something so mean to her, whether it was running through my head or not.
I didn’t know if I should come up with a bullshit answer or call her out for her past actions. Before I could decide, I was overwhelmed by the comforting weight of a familiar aura.
“I believe he said he didn’t want to have fun with you,” Leighton said coolly. Her hand latched around Olanda’s bicep and she placed herself between us. “So why are you still here?”
My former bedmate’s eyes widened the tiniest bit in surprise. She pulled herself from Leighton’s grip, stumbling back into Mercury. He had a glass of wine in his hand, which he tossed back in one gulp as he moved Olanda farther away from me.
“There’s no need to be so rude about it,” she said. “I was asking why.”
“You’re not entitled to that information,” Leighton said.
“I think I deserve—”
“No, you don’t. I’d prefer not to start a scene, but I will.”
Leighton didn’t look prepared to start a scene. She wore a pair of white high heels, with her weight casually to one side. Her arms were draped along her sides, a picture of casual elegance. Any ‘scene’ would mess up her perfectly straightened black hair, and that would be a shame because it looked stunning on her.
Her aura was the only sign that she would fight a bitch.
It trembled, a bit. Kind of like how my aura flared outward when I was furious and had less of a handle on control. It was a threat, and if Olanda didn’t feel it there was nothing that could save her from whatever Leighton planned to do.
Olanda did feel it.
Or she simply decided I wasn’t worth her time. With another huff and a glare at me, she wandered back out to the dance floor in search of some other poor sap.
I expected the tension to drop when she’d vanished from sight, but it didn’t. Leighton’s aura continued to shudder.
An icy blanket draped over me when I realized I was as much the target as Olanda was. My skin broke out in goosebumps, but my cock throbbed in anticipation.
Have I finally done something bad enough for her to react?
I’d been waiting. I’d done a lot of bad things, so it was only a matter of time.
“Dash, why are you here?” Leighton asked without turning to face me.
“I’m always here on Sundays.”
My cocky response was not appreciated. She growled and I chanced a glance at Kiara.
The little omega was sitting in the booth with the Ashby pack, but everyone’s attention was on this scene. Her cheeks were flushed and her hand was resting on her hip. On her knife, like she was seconds away from using it.
Fuck. That was why Leighton had intervened. Maybe it wasn’t because she was possessive over me, but because Kiara was. I should have gotten rid of Olanda faster.
