Page 77 of Omega's Faith

"The church mouse. That's what you called him, right?"

"Don't."

"He left you." She turns to face me, robe slipping off one shoulder. "After what, a week? Less?"

"Six days."

"Six days." She laughs, pouring whiskey into two glasses I didn't notice her bring. "We lasted a lot longer.”

"And look how that ended."

"At least we had it." She presses a glass into my hand. I set it down without drinking. She notices. "Right. The sobriety thing. How long?"

"Sixteen days."

"Why?"

"Because it was time."

She sips her whiskey, studying me over the rim. "Do you remember Santorini?"

Of course I remember. The yacht, the sunset, the way she looked in that white dress. The last good memory before everything went to shit.

"That was a long time ago."

"Three years." She moves closer, rose and whiskey and that perfume she's worn since we met. "Not that long."

"Saskia—"

"I never got over you." Her hand lands on my chest, fingers spreading over my heartbeat. "I tried. God, I tried."

She presses closer, all soft curves and familiar warmth. Three years ago, I would have been inside her already. Hell, three weeks ago I might have been.

But now all I can think about is honey and vanilla.

"You need to leave," I say gently.

"No, I need you." She tries to kiss me. I turn my head, herlips catching my jaw. "Please, Alex. Just tonight. Your omega left you."

"I'm not free. I'm married."

"You keep saying that. Where is he then?"

"That doesn't matter."

"Doesn't it?" She pulls back, eyes bright with tears and fury. "You're going to pine over some religious fanatic?"

"I made vows," I say.

"Vows are just words, Alex."

Not to Jonah. To him, they're everything. Sacred. Unbreakable. Even if he hates me, even if he never comes back, he'll consider himself married until the day he dies.

The thought makes my chest tight.

Saskia sees something in my face and crumbles. She sinks onto my bed, tears streaming down her cheeks, ruining her perfect makeup.

"I'm so fucking lonely," she whispers.