Page 36 of Omega's Faith
His eyes are bright but focused on me in a way they haven't been all day. One hand slides up to cup the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair, and I nearly moan at thecontact.
"Alex..." My voice comes out breathy, wrecked.
"God, you're beautiful," he says, wonder in his voice like he's just noticing. "So fucking beautiful. Been driving me crazy all day in this suit."
He starts moving us to the music, bodies pressed together, and it's nothing like our formal first dance. This is raw, intimate, his hips rolling against mine in a way that makes my knees weak. His scent surrounds me, and I can feel myself getting wet, my body preparing for an alpha it desperately wants.
"That's it," he encourages when I start to move with him. "There you go. Not so uptight after all, are you?"
His hand tightens in my hair, tilting my head back, and for a moment I think he's going to kiss me. His eyes are dark with want, pupils blown wide, and he's looking at me like I'm something precious, something he actually wants.
It's too much. The chemistry between us is overwhelming, drowning me in sensation and desire. I've never felt anything like this—this pull, this need. My omega instincts are screaming at me to submit, to let him claim me right here on the dance floor.
I panic.
"You're drunk," I say, shoving against his chest. “Get off.”
The warmth in his eyes dies instantly. He releases me so abruptly I stumble.
I finally manage to escape, finding a corner table in the shadows where I can breathe. From here, I watch the party deteriorate further. Alex is back in his element, dancing with abandon, laughing with his head thrown back. He's gorgeous like this—wild and free and absolutely magnetic. People orbit around him like planets around the sun.
He doesn't look at me again. Not once. Hours pass. My eyes burn with exhaustion. The adrenaline from the day has longsince worn off, leaving me hollow and aching. I just want to sleep, to close my eyes and pretend this day never happened. I am exhausted and the music is too loud but I have absolutely nowhere to go. I don’t belong at home anymore and I don’t know how to get to the estate from here. I don’t have anything I can do except wait.
Finally, around three in the morning, I can't take it anymore. I find Alex again, now doing shots with Saskia and a group of models or actresses or whatever beautiful people do for a living.
"I want to leave," I tell him.
He looks at me. "Well, I don't."
"Alex—"
"You're a Colborne now." He gestures grandly, nearly spilling his drink. "If you want to go to bed, go get one."
He waves at a passing staff member, a woman in the hotel's uniform. "Hey! My husband wants to go to sleep. Find him a suite, will you?"
"Of course, sir," she says smoothly.
Alex turns back to me, his eyes hard as diamonds. "You're going to have to learn to do things for yourself, church mouse. I have no intention of tucking you into bed every night."
I'm too exhausted to argue. "Fine," I say quietly.
I follow the staff member through the hotel's maze of corridors. The suite she leads me to is obscene in its luxury. It’s larger than my parents' entire house, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Everything is covered in gold leaf.
"Will there be anything else, Mr. Colborne?" she asks.
Mr. Colborne.The name sits wrong on my tongue.
"No. Thank you."
She leaves, and I'm alone. Completely alone, in a strange room in a strange city, while my new husband parties downstairs with his ex-girlfriend and his horrible friends.
9. Alex
My neck feels like someone took a baseball bat to it. That's what I get for passing out on a hotel sofa in a five-thousand-dollar tuxedo after drinking my body weight in champagne.
The suite is painfully bright, morning sun streaming through windows. My mouth tastes like death. The usual Sunday morning special, except this time I'm married.
Married.