Page 19 of The Violence of Love (The Black Market Omega #2)

Autry

I really wanted to stay awake on the plane, but the second we climbed above the clouds, sleep dragged me under. The gentle rumble of the engines pulled me into darkness so fast it felt like I blinked and we were landing again.

When I wake up, Rhett has his arms around me. My cheek presses against his firm bicep, and his big hand rests on my hip like it belongs there. Like I belong here. It’s…wonderful.

I honestly didn’t know an alpha could feel so warm and safe.

I’m still not sure if I trust the feeling, but I don’t really have any other choice. And I’m determined to make this work.

After we touch down, Rhett carries me through the quiet airport to the parking garage.

Charlie follows a few paces behind, his steps heavy with sleep.

Oli—the dark-haired alpha—vanishes the moment we disembark.

He’d called me his mate back at the airport.

Is he Rhett’s packmate? If so, why didn’t Rhett tell me about him? And why isn’t he here now?

I stifle a yawn as we step into the elevator of a sleek, modern apartment building. I should be paying attention to my surroundings—this is my new home—but everything feels too loud, too sharp, too bright, despite the hush of the late hour.

The elevator dings, and we step into a pristine white hallway. Only two doors—one at each end. But that’s it. Are there only two apartments on this floor?

“This way, beautiful,” Rhett says softly, his fingers curling around mine. Charlie trails behind us, quiet but present. There’s something proud in the way he moves, like he’s trying to match Rhett’s posture. Like he belongs here too.

You have to find the energy for what’s coming next, I tell myself, but exhaustion still pulls at my eyelids. Wake up!! I force my eyes to open wide.

Rhett will want to rut me as soon as possible, to physically stake his claim until he can mate me.

The academy always stressed this point to mentally prepare us for laying with a mate we might not know very well.

However, right now, I can fully see that there’s no preparing someone to be intimate with a stranger.

And yet, a flush warms my skin. The idea of being under Rhett, of his scent pressed into my skin, of feeling the weight of his attention—it sends a soft ache curling low in my belly.

Rhett reaches into his pocket for his keys—but before he can use them, the door opens.

A tall, sleepy-looking beta blinks at us from the threshold. His blond hair is tousled, and his soft flannel pajamas are wrinkled with sleep. “How was the flight?” he asks, stepping up onto his toes to press a kiss to Rhett’s cheek.

“Long,” Rhett murmurs, then turns to me, smile softening. “Autry, this is our beta, Myrick. Myrick—this is Autry.”

I give Myrick the best smile I can muster. While I want to convey how truly happy I am, it’s also three in the freaking morning. “It’s so good to finally meet you, Myrick.” I fling open my arms and immediately hug him. Hopefully, this makes up for my lack of enthusiasm.

The lanky beta is still at first, but then he melts into me.

His arms curl around my back, and his head drops onto my shoulder.

He hugs me like he’s waited his whole life for this moment.

Turning my head slightly, I sniff the ends of his hair.

He smells like fresh air, or like laundry that’s been dried in the summer sun.

“It’s really good to meet you too,” he whispers thickly, voice catching with emotion.

And just like that, something in my chest cracks open.

I spent so many years fighting my desire for a pack. Then I was on the run and desperate to find anyone who could protect me. And now I have a pack. Two betas and an alpha—maybe two? It honestly feels like a dream. What could I have possibly done to deserve something so good?

Nothing , the evil voice in the back of my mind reminds me of every awful thing I’ve done. I don’t deserve any of this.

I’m a horrible person.

“What’s wrong?” Rhett asks, ripping me out of my negative thoughts.

Myrick gives a small, teary laugh, still pressed close. “Nothing,” he says softly, pulling back.

I try to laugh it off as I wipe my face with the heel of my hand. I hope they’ll both assume they’re happy tears .

“I’m glad you're both home,” Myrick says, smiling—but then his gaze shifts behind me, and his smile dims slightly.

“This is Charlie,” Rhett says, and I don’t miss the slight shift in his voice. Is it regret? Frustration? It’s hard to tell.

“It’s good to meet you.” Charlie offers his hand, polite and respectful. Thankfully, Myrick is a gentleman and shakes it, but I can feel the forced civility. It makes my stomach twist.

“Rhett messaged me from the plane,” Myrick says softly. “He told me about your…” he glances at Rhett, “...agreement.” He forces a tight smile as he clasps his hands together, letting them hang in front of him. “Let me show you to your room,” he says to Charlie.

Charlie steps past me, eyes lowered, like he’s afraid of making this harder. I want to reach for him and ask him to stay. But I know better.

“This way,” Myrick says gently, leading him away down the hall.

I barely have time to process the loss before Rhett leans in, his voice low and deep. “Let’s get you to bed, too.”

My breath catches.

This is it.

I’m about to be claimed.

Forcing myself to smile, I try to trick my mind into being excited and awake as we turn down a long, white hallway. Everything feels crisp and quiet, but my pulse is a little too loud in my ears.

“I’ll give you the full tour in the morning,” Rhett says as we pass a wall that’s made entirely of frosted glass. It glows faintly with a soft light from somewhere inside. “Charlie’s room is here.” He points as we pass an open doorway.

I catch a glimpse of Myrick and Charlie talking. It looks… cordial. Maybe even friendly. But we move past them too fast for me to know for sure.

Moving down the hall and around a corner, I’m shocked to find a few more identical white doors. This place is massive. It must have at least eight or nine bedrooms….maybe more.

“And this is our room.” Rhett opens the door at the very end of the hall.

The bed is massive. There’s a large padded headboard with buttons and black bedding, like something out of a luxury catalog.

There’s lots of dark wood, an ornate chandelier overhead, and an armchair.

But I’m way too tired to really focus on any of the other details.

Everything feels foggy and dreamlike, like I’m watching this happen to someone else.

“The bathroom is here.” Rhett moves to a white door with fancy beveled edges across from the foot of the bed. “That door is to the toilet, and that one is the closet.” He points somewhere inside the bathroom.

Squeezing my wrist, I nod, pretending like I can see.

“I’ll grab you something to sleep in.” He disappears into the bathroom, and I finally exhale, sucking in a shaky breath like I’ve been holding it since the elevator.

“Calm down,” I whisper to myself. “You can do this. It’s not like you're a virgin.” My gaze drifts over the bed. The comforter is drawn back on the far side, telling me that Myrick was probably there, waiting for us to get home.

When Rhett reappears, I stop breathing altogether.

He’s stripped down to snug black briefs and that’s it.

Thick thighs, lean waist, abs cut with just enough shadow to make me stare. His broad chest is lightly dusted with dark hair, and I can see the ripple of muscle in his shoulders when he moves. He looks like he was built to ruin omegas.

Heat flashes through me—fast and dizzying—followed quickly by the urge to yawn. I’m stuck somewhere between exhaustion and lust, laced with a trace of fear. It’s very confusing.

“Here,” Rhett says gently, holding out a soft, oversized shirt. “I’m sure you’ll feel better once you get out of those clothes.” He eyes the dark blue dress shirt hanging off my shoulders.

Swallowing hard, I nod. I guess he wants me to take it off myself. I thought maybe he’d undress me. Touch me. But no—he wants to watch.

My fingers tremble slightly as I start unbuttoning. Should I be sensual? Slow? The problem is, I’m not sure how to do this in a sexy way. I’m better with dirty talk. I love to make my lover blush, but I’ve never been great at flirting…at least that’s how I am with other women.

I mean, should I sway my hips or bat my lashes? I give a few practice flutters as I pull the shirt off my shoulders, but then something falls into my eye and I scrunch up my face.

“Everything okay?”

I force my eye open wide, leaning over slightly.

“Yeah… I think it’s just an eyelash.” I blink repeatedly, happy to feel that it’s gone.

“Sorry about that.” I look up, then freeze.

The alpha is directly in front of me, forcing me to tip my head back to see him.

He’s so tall. At least a foot taller than me, if not more.

“Why are you sorry?” he murmurs, his voice a deep, velvety hum.

“I don’t know,” I admit with a shaky laugh. “I think I’m just tired.”

“It’s been a very long day.” He smiles like he understands, then he leans down.

For a second, it feels like he’s going to kiss me, but instead, he grabs the hem of my nightie, and lifts.

The silky fabric glides up my body and over my suddenly very sensitive nipples.

They pull even tighter as the cool air hits my skin.

Rhett tosses the garment away, leaving me in my tiny red panties.

I immediately look down at the floor, and my stomach churns.

Does he like what he sees?

What if he doesn’t?

I’ve always had a big chest. I started developing when I was thirteen, but the rest of me never really caught up.

I have narrow hips and a rather unimpressive butt.

An alpha once told me I had nice legs, and I always get compliments on my hair, but I never got the attention the girls with hourglass figures got.