Page 41 of Omega's Faith
When we get back to the estate, he practically runs to his room, slamming the door hard enough to echo through the house.
I stand in the hallway, head resting against the wall, trying to get my breathing under control. In a few hours, he's going to go into full heat. His first with an alpha. My omega, suffering alone because we're both too proud and too damaged to figure this out.
The alpha in me wants to break down his door, to take care of him whether he wants it or not. The man in me knows that would be unforgivable.
So I do the only thing I can. I go to my room, pour myselfanother whiskey, and wait for the storm to break.
Through the walls, I can hear him pacing, distressed little sounds escaping. Each one is like a knife to the gut.
10. Jonah
I wake to fire.
Every nerve ending is alive, oversensitive and screaming. The sheets feel like sandpaper against my fevered skin. My pajamas are soaked through with sweat, clinging to me like a second skin that I need off, need gone, need—
No.
I stumble to the bathroom, cranking the shower to cold. The water feels like ice but it barely makes a dent in the heat consuming me from the inside out. I lean against the tile, trying to breathe through it, trying to pray through it.
A wave of need crashes over me so hard my knees buckle. Slick runs down my thighs, my body preparing for something it's never had but desperately wants. The ache inside me is different from my usual heats—deeper, hungrier, specifically shaped for what only an alpha can give.
Myalpha.
Alex is on the other side of the house but I can still smell him even through the walls. It’s a pure alpha musk that makes my omega instincts keen. My body knows he's there, knows he could make this better, could fill this emptiness that's eating me alive.
I hate him.
I cling to that thought as I shut off the shower. I dry myself with shaking hands. I hate his arrogance, his dismissiveness, the way he ignores me whenever he can. I hate how talked tome about my coming heat, like he knew exactly what my body needed better than I did.
But God help me, Iwanthim.
Another wave hits, stronger than before. I barely make it to the bed before my legs give out. The cotton sheets are torture against my hypersensitive skin. Everything is too much and not enough. I need pressure, need weight, need something to fill this gnawing emptiness.
I try to handle it myself, hand sliding down my body, but it's not enough. My fingers aren't thick enough, don't reach deep enough. I need—
A knot.
The thought makes me whimper. I've never had one, barely even imagined wanting one until now. But my body knows, some primitive part of me recognizing what it's been designed for.
An hour. I last an hour before the need overrides everything, despite my desperate touches that bring no relief.
When I finally break, I don't even remember deciding to leave my room. One moment I'm clinging to the last shreds of control, the next I'm standing outside Alex's door in nothing but sleep shorts, my whole body trembling.
I can hear him inside, restless movement like he's pacing. He knows. Of course he knows. He can probably smell my heat through the walls.
I knock. It’s barely a sound, just my knuckles against wood.
The door opens immediately.
Alex stands there in low-slung pajama pants and nothing else, his chest bare and gleaming in the low light. His pupils are blown wide, nostrils flaring as my scent hits him full force.
"I wondered how long you'd last," he says, voice rough like he's been fighting his own control.
"Shut up," I manage through gritted teeth. Another wave is building, and I grip the doorframe to stay upright.
"Jonah—" He reaches for me, and something snaps. I have had enough of this man. He’s supposed to be my alpha. He’s supposed to be the man I revere and follow. I’m supposed to submit to his every order and every whim, trusting him to make the right decisions for both of us.
Instead, I gotthis. Yes, he is gorgeous and he smells delicious but he is supposed toleadme. And he can’t or won’t. Both probably.