Page 9 of Happy Halloween, Omega

I’ve dedicated hours and hours to uncovering his identity. I use the clues I gleaned and the information he told me, but it gets me nowhere. I don’t have any recollection of meeting him before.

I’ve turned the photo of my mother that sits on my mantle to face the wall. I know I’m betraying her with my yearning. I sift through my muddled emotions, searching for the guilt that has been fading for months, and come up empty.

She’s gone. I’ve realized her wishes aren’t as important as my needs.

In fact, I’m coming to terms with the reality of my situation. Sincethatnight, I’ve avoided thinking too hard about it. The woman I still refer to as my mother was deeply flawed. She’s not a part of my life anymore and I need to let go.

It’s late when I return home from work one evening, and I know that he’s near. I can’t explain it, but I know he’s watching me. I can feel it. As if to confirm my suspicions, I catch a whiff of his scent as soon as I enter the building – cedarwood and amber.

I take the stairs instead of the elevator, my heart racing. The thrill of being prey to a highly skilled predator, because there is no doubt he is hunting me, has become my drug of choice. I don’t know why he doesn’t show himself, but I suspect he’s getting off on my skittish behavior. It must be an Alpha thing. Or maybe just ahimthing.

When I reach my floor, I pause outside my apartment door, my hand on the knob. I strain my hearing, listening for footsteps or movement, but there is nothing but the wails of the baby in 2C.

I open the door and step inside. The lights are off and the curtains are open as usual. I love how the moonlight streams into the room, bathing it in a soft blue glow. The prickling of awareness doesn’t relent. I flick the switch, and light floods the living room. The space is empty. I breathe a sigh of relief, and the door snicks closed behind me.

I drop my bag onto the table and take off my coat, hanging it on the back of a chair. Grizabella comes running to greet me, meowing and weaving between my legs. I reach down to pat her and my hand freezes mid-air.

I blanch.

Blinking rapidly, I stare at a pink collar sitting starkly against her midnight black fur. Grizabella doesn’t wear a collar. She’s not an outside cat after her repeated fights with the neighborhood strays.

I look around the room, my heart racing. Nothing else seems out of place.

I touch the collar, my hand shaking. There’s a note attached.

Happy Halloween, Omega.

The note flutters to the floor as I drop it in shock. It’s not Halloween, but itisthe calling card of my Alpha ghost. He’s been here. In my home. He’s touched my cat. He’s left a message.

I stride to the windows and fling them open. I need fresh air – I feel like I’m suffocating. The cool breeze washes over my skin and I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

This is crazy. It’s dangerous and exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid my entire life. I’ve worked so hard to build this life as a Beta, and now it’s all in jeopardy. I’m frustrated that my heart is racing from not just fear, but the rush of a thrill.

My eyes fall on the note again, my mind racing. This is tangible proof. More than just a feeling ofknowinghe’s close by. I’ve spent so many nights dreaming about him, wishing he would come to me and feeling his eyes on my body even as I lay in bed. But now that he’s reaching out, I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of a cliff, my feet precariously close to slipping over the edge.

Stepping back from the window, I reach for the collar. I unclasp it and let it fall to the floor, the metal clinking against the tiles. I scoop Grizabella into my arms and she purrs loudly, her tail flicking against my arm.

I bury my face in her fur, taking comfort in her familiar scent, trying to calm my racing heart. Except it isn’t her usual natural, earthy aroma. She smells likehim.The little hussy purrs with delight, pleased with her part in his twisted game.

I drop her, stumbling backwards. Grizabella lands on her feet, meowing indignantly, and I stare at her, my mind reeling. He’s marked her with his scent glands.

Now he’s gone too far.

It’s one thing to stalk me, it’s another to place his claim on the one thing I love most in the world as his own.

Rage bubbles up inside me. He’s crossed a line. The intrusion into my safe space has pushed me too far.

How dare he?

How dare he enter my home and touch my things?

How dare he use my cat to send a message?

It’s enough to jerk me away from my dark delusions of connection and fated mates. There was nothing about this in my research on what flirting looks like between Alphas and Omegas. This ishimtoying with me.

A little voice in the back of my head that I’ve never heard before slinks forward and whispers coyly.Alpha has been in your nest.

I shake my head, wholly freaked out by the intrusive thought.