Page 56 of Altius (The Scent of Victory #2)

Alijah watched me for a moment, twirling the stem of his glass. “Is that how my relationship with Joaquin seems to you?”

“No,” I said quickly, flooded with guilt that I’d accidentally disparaged him. “You two are very well-matched and obviously happy together.”

“We are.” His earlier confidence returned—and stayed firm. “I express my feelings by taking care of people. He’s more into spending time together. That’s why he loves being mated so much. He’s got his pesky fangs hooked in my soul, meaning I’m never technically out of reach.”

Alijah leaned closer, the earnest gleam in his eyes strong enough to make me envious of their relationship.

A filthy, unwelcome feeling. Especially when I was trying my best to turn him down.

“And I love it. I love him.” His fingers braved the expanse of the tabletop. “But it took time to get here. Two years. So, why can’t you and I move at the same pace? I mean, look how far we’ve come in six months.”

“But there’s still six months left in my fellowship. Can you really wait that long? Even having dinner together tonight might get us in trouble.”

“Yes,” he said, drawing the word out with a heavy sprinkling of sarcasm. “If only we lived next to each other, with a private hallway between our two lofts, where no one can enter without express permission of the residents.”

“The home stuff doesn’t worry me,” I said with a sigh of exasperation. “It’s how you—and Joaquin—look at each other. At me. And the so-called accidental lunches, which are getting increasingly more deliberate. The same goes for you getting me drinks and snacks.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off.

“Sure, we won’t be direct coworkers once the football season ends. That eases some of the scrutiny. But what if they reassign you to cover the same sports as me?”

“Then I’ll be careful.”

“But careful won’t—” Frustration threatened to spiral into something bigger, more flammable.

Destructive. Angling my head back, I stared at the ceiling and counted to ten.

“You’ve seen what I’m really like now. My temper.

All the meds and the pain. How much work it takes to get through the day.

I’ll snap at you and say the wrong things.

” The sudden clenching of my heart stole my breath. “I don’t want you to have regrets.”

His earnest gaze turned wounded. “What I regret is watching you and Cal. And you and Wyatt. Even sometimes you and Joaquin. Frustrated and jealous because I’ve been waiting, just like you asked.

For months.” Alijah leaned across the table, refusing to let me look away.

“When I should have pulled you into a dark corner somewhere at the ballet gala and kissed you, the way I wanted to. I regret being so polite and respectful all the time. Being such a good beta.”

“Alijah, I—”

The server chose the absolute worst moment to deliver our food. Beautifully plated, perfectly cooked French cuisine, which I refused to ruin with a heavy dose of emotional baggage.

“This all looks amazing, thank you,” Alijah said to the waiter, then slid the pepper in my direction with a defeated half-smile. “I know. Later.”

Took the words right out of my mouth.

***

Later arrived when our rideshare pulled into Balboa Park, about half a mile from the hotel. Riding back together had been my idea.

After watching Alijah somehow manage to down his horrid cocktail, the rest of my mocktail, and three glasses of wine, I couldn’t abandon the pretty, tipsy beta on the other side of the city.

Joaquin would never forgive me if something happened to his mate. Nor would I ever be able to forgive myself.

And my omega? She was on edge, ready to claw the eyes out of anyone who glanced at him wrong. Even our elderly beta rideshare driver with a handlebar mustache wasn’t safe.

Her possessiveness made it harder to muster my well-rehearsed logical arguments.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” Alijah crooned, leaning against the car roof with a tipsy grin.

Snaking my hand around his waist, I tugged him away and shut the door.

“Didn’t realize you were so eager to shut me down,” he teased as we stepped onto the sidewalk.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are—you are!” Alijah pulled away, darting into the park, heedless of the chilly night air, his arms raised as if to embrace the fragile crescent of the moon. He set a brisk, almost sprightly pace toward a grove of trees.

I hurried to catch up. Why were they all tall except for Wyatt?

Fuck, fuck, fuck, I berated myself internally. I had to stop lumping the five of them together. Especially not Alijah with Wyatt and Cal.

Because the term trio was far too close to pack.

“Give me one reason,” Alijah’s voice flitted between the shadows. “One solid reason to give up on us.”

I turned in place, scanning my surroundings, frustrated by his childish jaunt and my limited night vision. The trees stretched endlessly, their long limbs casting eerie patterns in the faint moonlight.

Deciding there was no use in chasing him, I leaned against a leggy pine, its rough bark biting into my palms.

“I hurt people,” I called into the void.

His teasing laughter echoed through the trees. “Then hurt me. If that’s what it takes.”

Anger surged, hot and sharp.

“This isn’t a joke,” I snapped, my tone rougher than intended.

Then again, it matched how I felt—grating, raw, and harsh. So very harsh.

Why couldn’t he understand I was doing this for his benefit?

“Jenna didn’t talk to me for years because I traumatized her.

” The words spilled out, tumbling into the darkness.

“And I wasn’t lying when I said I can’t remember how things with Wyatt ended.

I can’t remember anything about the first three months after my accident.

Nothing. Including that I went off on him.

Told him he was worthless. A disappointment.

That I never wanted to see or hear from him again. To get lost.”

My breath hitched. I pressed my back against the tree, closing my eyes against the sting of tears, trying to keep from spiraling further.

“Imagine what it was like for me. Waking up in the hospital, scared and angry, and wanting so badly to talk to my scent match—and he was just… gone .” Tears slipped out, hot against my chilled skin. “Because I hurt him too badly.”

When I opened my eyes, I discovered Alijah’s silent form standing nearby, observing my meltdown from the deepening gloom.

Those black eyes, even darker than the surrounding night, bore into me. His handsome face reflected all the regrets I carried.

“Ten years, Alijah,” I whispered. The strain in my voice bared the scars left by my hellish wait for forgiveness. “Ten years of guilt. And I can’t—can’t hurt someone I care about again. Not when you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

Alijah closed the distance between us, his gentle hands cradling my face, tipping my head back to receive his kiss.

Sweet, undeserved absolution.

“I wasn’t joking,” he murmured against my lips, his breath warm and steady. “Hurt me—at the top of your lungs, without reservation—so long as you do it with your whole heart.”

Tears gathered in his eyes, as precious as diamonds. I couldn’t let them fall. I wasn’t worthy. Framing his cheekbones with my hands, I brushed his lashes with my fingers, my thumbs poised to catch every tear.

“You’re too good for me,” I insisted softly. “Too kind and funny and beautiful—everywhere. So beautiful.”

“That’s exactly how I feel about you, Morgan.”

The kiss I hoped to repel instead sought to claim me. His orange scent, ripe with hope, overwhelmed my senses. Allowing me to bask in Alijah’s sunshine, even in the middle of the night.

“Please,” he said, voice heavy with yearning, “please. Date me. Let me make you laugh. And make you dinner. Cuddle with me while I watch TV. Let me sit with you at night, listening to podcasts while you work. Be beautiful with me.”

He pressed our foreheads together as if to punctuate his plea.

“ That is what would make me happy.”

And against my better judgment, not only did I nod in agreement, but I kissed Alijah back.

He was so much more than a simple beta.

Alijah was the emotional core of Pack Redmond. A chef on par with my beloved Papa, with his own unique vision for photography and decorating. Trustworthy and genuine, even when playing his mate’s flirty games.

Speaking of…

“Did Joaquin help with this?”

“No. Just with the plane.” Alijah smiled in triumph as he stroked the side of my neck. “Tonight was just for us. Finally.”

“Mm. Finally.” Rising onto my tiptoes, I nipped at his bottom lip. “But you have to be honest with me. Talk to me. Tell me when I screw up.”

“Or else I’ll get the silent treatment?”

“If that’s what you think boys with smart mouths deserve—”

“No, no, sorry. I take it back.” Alijah’s panic made his kisses tarter, but no less delectable.

Pressing my back against the tree, Alijah’s hands ran down my sides, heading for spots where he knew I was weak.

As tempted as I was to let him have his way with me, not to mention revisit his trim pecs and tight ass, we were in a public park.

We also needed to return to our respective hotel rooms without a thick cloud of pheromones advertising a recent make-out to everyone in the lobby.

Deepening the kiss, I counted to ten—slowly, very slowly—before pulling away. “You’re going to smell like orchid potpourri if we do anything else.”

“Ugh.” Alijah buried his head in my shoulder. “Why do you always have to be so smart and sensible?”

“Surely that’s part of my appeal.”

“It is,” he said, nuzzling my neck. “It definitely is.”

Giving his shoulders a light shove, I ducked out of his embrace, reaching into my bag to retrieve my bottle of travel-sized scent-canceling spray.

Thank you, Wyatt.

I sprayed myself down first, and after Alijah confirmed I’d erased any hint of his scent, we repeated the process for him, too.

“Confess to my dream girl,” he muttered as we walked toward the edge of the park.

“Kiss my dream girl. Get cut off by said dream girl. And now my dream girl is leaving me high and dry for the rest of the weekend. It’s not fair.

You’re right there, within touching distance, and we can’t even hold hands. Absolute torture.”

“See,” I said, picking up my pace as I flashed a wicked smile over my shoulder. “I’m already delivering on your promised pain.”

He made a playful lunge forward, hands hovering above my shoulders.

I dodged, letting out a happy little shriek as I booked it across the last stretch of grass.

When I reached the sidewalk, I discovered we were a mere two blocks away from our hotel—and that I’d inadvertently left Alijah in the dust.

“Go,” he said, bracing a hand against a tree as he paused to catch his breath. “I’ll follow at a distance. Text me when you’re back in your room.”

“Goodnight, dream boy.”

He rolled his eyes but still blew a parting air kiss at me. “It’s babe to you, doc .”

It took five steps to swallow my laughter and another five for my expression to return to normal.

Nothing to see here, I kept repeating as I walked across the street and into the lobby. Not a well-loved woman or her preening omega.

Definitely not, I thought, exiting the elevator onto my omega-only floor. Nope. Not me.

True to his word, Alijah waited across the street until I appeared in the window of my room and texted him an orange emoji with a pair of lips.

Shaking his head, he sent me three purple hearts in return and mouthed, “Goodnight.”

Yes, what a lovely, enchanted evening we had.

It was too bad it had to end with listening to my left-hand neighbor snoring through the wall while the couple to the right kept talking over a noisy action movie.

Rather than call any of my guys—which somehow now totaled three—I opted for simple goodnight texts to Cal and Wyatt. Then I got ready for bed and curled up with the audiobook Wyatt had prepared.

I conked out sooner than I cared to admit, but not before recasting the lead dragon riders with Cal and Joaquin, the hostage prince with Wyatt, and the young genius mage with Alijah.

If only I’d stayed awake long enough for the dark wizard to emerge. He would have looked like Owen, a sinister harbinger of trying times ahead.