Page 46

Maybe it was the way he laughed when no one else found the joke funny, or how he seemed to anticipate my thoughts in ways that made my skin crawl.

My nerves had warned me, quietly at first, then louder with every encounter.

But I’d brushed it aside, told myself I was being paranoid—until now, when every alarm inside me blares clear as a siren.

But if he thinks I’m going to take this lying down, he has another thing coming. I won’t allow my mates to treat me any other way than what I deserve, and I refuse to allow any other alphas either.

The metallic taste of adrenaline floods my mouth. Al leans in, smug and careless, his hand still ghosting my cheek. He must think my fear is paralyzing—but it sharpens me, draws my muscles taut as bowstrings. I draw my knee back as far as I can, and then ram Al right between the legs.

Al’s face screws up in agony as he falls at my feet. Rushing the door, I release a scream as I feel someone grab a handful of my hair as I jerk the door open. With a vicious jerk, I feel the strands of my hair rip from my scalp as I slam the door behind me.

I don’t stop. I don’t think. I don’t do anything except rush outside and race to my car.

“Fuck this place,” I say through a choked sob.

The world outside blurs into a haze of streetlights and shadows as I slam the car door shut behind me, shaking hands fumbling with the keys in the ignition. My body moves without conscious thought—muscle memory and instinct taking over where clarity of mind fails me.

Tires screech against the asphalt. My breaths come shallow and ragged, the world reduced to tunnel vision and the relentless pulse of fear pounding in my ears.

I barely register the turns and intersections, every traffic light a vague smear of red or green, every passing building a ghostly suggestion beyond the glass.

I’m driving, but the city guides me, familiar routes unfolding beneath my wheels as if I’m following a thread I can’t quite see. I don’t think—I just flee, every second stretching and collapsing in on itself until all that’s left is the need to escape.

My head is throbbing, and I feel liquid dripping down the back of my neck. Reaching back, I rub my fingers through it and bring them around front to see blood smeared on them. Tears dance in my eyes at the pain in my head, and what almost just happened.

Hell, I don’t know what just happened. All I know is it wasn’t good if those alphas are involved. From the moment I saw that one sitting in the booth that day, I knew that he wasn’t a nice guy. Nothing about him screamed friendly, and I was right to be leery of him.

Somewhere between one blinking streetlight and the next, the chaos inside me settles into a grim, purposeful silence.

The panic doesn’t vanish, but it finds a shape, a direction: Knox.

I grip the wheel tighter, knuckles white, my mind locked onto the one place I might find sanctuary, even though he owes me nothing.

I barely register the way my car veers to a halt, tires squealing as I jerk into the curb in front of Knox’s building.

My chest hammers with the engine’s dying rumble.

I stumble out, slamming the door, and that’s when I feel it—the soft patter of rain, tentative at first, then gathering conviction as I move.

The drizzle needles through my hair, coating my skin in a slick chill, with glued, torn strands of hair clinging to my neck.

I dash for the entrance, shoes splashing in shallow puddles, erupting in the fractured glow of streetlights.

Every step is desperation. The doorman’s face blurs past me as I punch the buzzer, not waiting for a response, just barging through the glass doors as someone exits with an umbrella and a startled look.

The lobby’s fluorescent light feels sterile, merciless, but I keep moving, dripping and shivering, my breath fogging the air behind me.

I see a directory and take off in the direction of Knox’s office. I don’t stop to think what I could be interrupting or if he’s even here. I know I need this; I need to be with my alpha. The hurting omega part inside of me needs her alpha, even if I haven’t claimed them yet.

She needs to be seen, heard, and held so the world around her doesn’t hurt her anymore.

A keening sound leaves my lips as I stop in front of Knox’s door.

Without another thought, I shove it open and stumble inside.

Tears are now dripping in a steady stream down my cheeks.

It’s hard to breathe, let alone keep walking.

The first person to see me is the man himself.

Knox is standing by his desk, head bent over scattered papers, lamplight haloing his sharp features.

When the door bangs open, he looks up—his gaze finding me in an instant.

The change in him is immediate, a lightning strike of alarm crossing his face as he takes in my trembling frame, the rain-soaked clothes clinging to every shiver.

His eyes widen, jaw tightening, shoulders squaring as if bracing for an invisible blow.

“Hey—”

The word barely escapes before he’s moving, fast, crossing the room in long, purposeful strides. He’s on me in a heartbeat, hands gentle but urgent as they settle on my shoulders, his concern raw and unguarded.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

His presence fills the space, steady and sure, and for a moment, the world narrows to the warmth of his nearness and the alarm shimmering in his eyes—a storm of worry and protectiveness racing him to my side.

I completely break down in his arms. Gut-wrenching sobs escape through my lips as I feel his arms band around me.

I take solace in him wrapping me up in his arms as if I mean the world to him.

When his hand threads through the strands of my hair at the back of my head, a guttural cry escapes my lips.

When he pulls his hand away like he’s been burned, I see the worry quickly turn into anger as he spies the blood on his hands. His eyes glance from his hand to my eyes.

“Who the fuck touched you?” the alpha command in his voice has me shivering, but not in fright.

Instead of answering him, I’m working on adrenaline, and the omega part inside of me has me cuddling into his chest, seeking comfort from one of her alphas.

We may not be mated, but this, right here, is a feeling I’m beginning to become accustomed to. The last time I remembering feeling this way was when I was with Tripp.

Home.

Knox makes me feel as if I’m home.