“Why’s that, little omega?” Ambrose abandoned his perusal of me in favour of putting plates in the microwave, letting it whir to life.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. There was no reason I could give him that was… Well, reasonable. My deep-seated desire to see Leighton was so I could claim her the same way he had, by bathing her in my scent.
Why did he get to have her, but I couldn’t?
I’d offered her a dark bond. Handed her the ultimate submission on a silver platter, and she wasn’t interested. Father said every alpha wanted a dark bond, but it was yet another thing he’d been wrong about. I was getting a crash course in all the lies he’d told as he’d kept me locked away from the world.
“Please let me see her,” I said instead of telling him a reason.
He sighed. “If you plan on telling her your story—your real one, not what you’ve already said—I’m sure she’d be happy to come out here. Otherwise, we’re going to spend the evening in her room.”
My teeth clamped down on my lower lip and I fought not to tremble. Was it panic rushing through me right now? Anger? Fear? Annoyance? I’d never had much of a grasp on my own emotions. My brother Tobias said it was because I was a fickle omega, and they didn’t know how to control themselves.
His harsh words were an echo I couldn’t escape from.“All omegas are brainless sluts who will throw themselves at any alpha that breathes.”
Was I doing that? Was I proving him right?
No. Leighton was different. I’d never wanted an alpha before her. I couldn’t deny that Ambrose appealed to me in an annoying way, but he was mainly just an obstacle in my path to what I wanted.
“I’m going to take that as a no.” He yanked me from my thoughts by pushing a plate toward me. “Dinner. We’ll be in Leighton’s room.”
There was an unspoken threat not to bother them unless I was going to give them the information they wanted. I stared down at my plate as he turned and walked off with the other two meals, leaving me alone again.
He couldn’t stay here, but I got the sinking feeling he was going to.
Leaving the plate on the counter, I went back into the living room and paced. There had to be some way to convince her. I needed her… to want me.
I snatched a pillow from the couch, rubbing it to my neck. A primal purr rumbled in my chest. The sensation was foreign but satisfying, instinct telling me this was what I had to do. Mix my scent with my alpha’s all over the condo.
When every pillow was done I rolled on the cushions. It wasn’t enough. There was more to do.
In the fixation, I barely registered what I was doing. My scent was left on every soft surface that would hold it—and plenty of solid things that wouldn’t. I didn’t know if it was going to last when I scent marked the kitchen counters, but I wanted Leighton to come out here tomorrow and realize that I was it for her.
Me.
Then she’d claim me.
I marked the bar stools and the benches in the breakfast nook. The shower curtain in the office bathroom. Some of her clothes that I’d found in the dryer. I even rolled around on the dirty shag rug in the living room.
If I was everywhere, she couldn’t ignore me like she was right now.
By the time the urges faded, I was panting. My core clenched uncomfortably, my body aroused by how much of her scent I’d inhaled in the process of doing that. She was everywhere in here, and I was too.
“Soren knew I could do it,” I muttered under my breath. “And I can. She’llhaveto dark bond me.”
He’d been my saviour last night. I’d run onto a golf course in my frantic escape from my father’s house, and nearly been hit by a flying golf ball. Soren had followed it, tailed by a single security guard as he—for whatever odd reason—played a game against no one under a dark, moonless sky.
His honey brown eyes had been unnaturally bright as he’d scanned me from head to toe.
My dishevelled dress, the fabric and my skin both streaked with dark red. Blood dripping from the knife clutched in my right hand. More sliding down my left palm onto the manicured grass. I’d had to wander through a field full of stagnant puddles to get there, and my shoes were filthy.
Instead of calling the police, he’d gestured to his guard. The man was an alpha with curly dark hair, the light aroma of green tea and honey swirling through the crisp night air. Soren himself had been drenched in scent dampeners.
The guard had come forward and handed me a golf club.
I’d stared at it.
“Come on, then. We’ve got to finish out this game,” Soren said.
