“My heart is brand new, but you sure are trying your best to break it,” I murmured under my breath.
“Small world.”
With a gasp of surprise my head shot up. I fumbled, losing hold of my phone, but my companion managed to catch it. Standing next to me was Rowan, a coffee in one hand, and my phone in the other.
“Thanks,” I said, taking my phone. “What are you doing here?”
“Donating blood,” Rowan answered. “Platelets, actually. It’s something I do every few weeks. What are you doing here?”
“Oh. I’m just here for a checkup.” Nervously I ran my hand through my hair. I hoped it didn’t look too bi-weekly-heart-biopsy-bed-head. “Your reasons are far more noble than mine.”
“What are you ordering?”
“I hadn’t decided. I was considering the chicken Caesar but…” I wrinkled my nose. The time with Halo and the body lotion was far more tempting than the actual salad. “I’m not even really hungry. I justshouldeat, because it’s important.”
“Were you here with a dietician?” Rowan asked.
“No, I was here for a heart biopsy. Making sure my transplant was strong and thriving.” The truth came so easily to me, for him, and I didn’t understand why. I could barely stomach it, hated looking at it. My pack lead practically shut himself off from me, and here I was telling this stranger my deepest truth.
“You had a heart transplant?” Rowan’s voice wavered. “When?”
I eyed him. Maybe my admission creeped him out. I wouldn’t be surprised. “Just over two months ago,” I answered, slowly.
The coffee cup slipped from his hand, and a burst of the hot, dark liquid splashed onto his shoes but he didn’t seem to notice. A look of shock shrouded his face. His blue eyes widened and glittered like pools of water.
His spicy clove scent flared, taking me up in an embrace that felt comforting and precious. And familiar.
“You…” Rowan began. “You have my heart.”
“What… are you saying?”
My heart gave one urgent, yearning leap. It hammered against my ribs like a convict claiming innocence.Thatwas why I felt such an immediate connection to him. Somehow… Rowan knew my heart.
Rowan spoke in a dazed, broken rhythm, like it was the most difficult thing in the world to explain. “My mate. My omega. There was an–. Sh-she died. Two months ago…”
I grabbed his hand, and pulled him out of the restaurant. I didn’t know where I was taking him, only that it had to be somewhere we could be alone.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was dragging him into a family room adjacent to the cafeteria. I shut and locked the door. I took a cleansing breath, my eyes stung with tears. I turned to face him and undid my blouse.
“What are yo–” Rowan didn’t have time to finish the question. I took his hand and placed his palm against my heart.
His hand was warm, the skin on his palm just a little rough. I took a deep breath, then another. It was all I was able to do, just tremble and breathe, expose myself to this alpha who wasn’t mine, yet was. Or rather, could be.
“What happened?” My voice was as intangible as air.
Rowan blinked away the wet shimmer in his eyes. “Car accident.” His voice was ash and dust. He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to.
“You’re so alone…” I cupped his cheek with my other hand. His jaw tensed under my palm. “I can’t imagine what it must be like.”
I could sense it now, and it was stunning to me that I didn’t feel it before. Cracks in his aura. Damage. Pain radiating out even though I couldn’t see it, Ifeltit. Draining, devouring, so completely isolating and exhausting.
To know Rowan’s pain made me sick inside. I yearned to take away his agony. I felt responsible for it, like his happiness depended on me. I was the keeper of his mate’s heart and that meant, well, I wasn’t sure exactly, only that his damage made my heart, his omega’s heart, ache.
My hand floated from his cheek to the back of his neck which was slightly tacky with perspiration. I drew him a little closer, or maybe he leaned in. His breath drifted across my face and cooledtear tracks on my cheeks that I hadn’t realized had fallen. I took another deep lungful of air.
I had never been this close, this vulnerable to an alpha who wasn’t mine. But I didn’t feel guilty, or a sense of treachery. Being with Rowan like this felt… natural.
His face was inches from my own, his hand never moved away from my hammering, humming heart.
