He’d changed into something different than yesterday, but it was still made of expensive fabric. There were ironed dark slacks and a button up short sleeve. The buttons weren’t done up to the top, giving it a more casual look.
I caught a whiff of his scent without even trying. It reminded me of the unused books my father kept in his study—scholarly and comforting. The cinnamon hints took it far away from being an exact replica of that place. Maybe he smelled more like a used bookstore with a cafe attached.
Clearing my throat, I tried to temper my arousal as I stepped into the kitchen. His gaze snapped to me, all the calm fleeing from his posture and expression.
“I think Leighton made me some food,” I said.
One hand on Nyla, I stepped over to the fridge and opened it. There was a plate of fruit and vegetables waiting for me, alongside some yogurt and orange juice.
Mercury didn’t say a thing.
I grabbed the plate and hesitantly released my knife to load up the yogurt cup and grab the juice. My grip was shaky and I didn’t take it into the breakfast nook or the living room. I sat at the kitchen island on a bar stool, facing Mercury.
He pushed off the counter to leave, but I caught the fabric of his shirt and pulled him to a stop. “Did you need something?” he asked.
His tone was almost chilly enough that I shivered.
“You don’t have to leave just because I arrived.”
“No, but I would like to, if you’d do me the honour of letting me go.”
“Why don’t you like me?”
He scoffed, yanking himself from my grip. I expected him to retreat, but he didn’t. He came closer, leaning over me. I didn’t shy away, and our lips ended up mere inches apart.
“It’s kind of obvious, isn’t it? You stabbed Ambrose. There’s no reason for me to like you,” he hissed.
“Ambrose forgave me,” I whispered.
“I’m not Ambrose. I apparently have far more concern for his well-being than he does. With that knife you carry around, you could stab him again at any moment. Or me.” His gaze darted down. “Do you plan on it, little omega?”
My hand had landed on Nyla subconsciously, without thought. I peeled my fingers off her hilt, giving a tiny shake of my head. “No.”
“You could have fooled me.”
“I’m not going to stab you.”
“I don’t trust you,” he said.
I avoided eye contact, bouncing my leg nervously. With him so close, there were only so many places I could look. His lips, thin and curled into a frown. His collarbone, exposed by the way his shirt hung open. Mercury was invading my space and my senses, and I didn’t like the way I was reacting.
Because I wasn’t annoyed or angry.
I was aroused.
My heightened scent would hit him any second…
And I saw the moment it did, his nostrils flaring as he growled. I clenched my thighs together, resting my hands on them to avoid the urge to touch him. My reactions to alphas had been intense recently, and I couldn’t figure out why.
Was I close to a heat? Was it this pack in particular that made me wild with their scents? Would I react this way to all alphas? I’d never had much exposure to alphas, so I couldn’t know for certain.
“Fuck, I hate the way you smell,” he muttered.
Old insecurities rose up, forcing me to lean away from him. He didn’t let me retreat. His eyes slipped closed and he followed, inhaling deeply. I kept going, back and back until I unbalanced myself, letting out a yelp as my body tipped off the bar stool.
His arm banded around my waist and caught me, pulling me upright before I could fall. It brought me against his chest, his old books and cinnamon scent rubbing all over me. Mercury inhaled again, then let out a stuttering breath and stepped back.
“Be more careful,” he said, as if it were my fault I’d almost fallen.
