Page 11 of Unbonded (Pack’s Companion #3)

I can’t believe I have a measuring tape wrapped around Dash Devereux’s hips.

This has to count as my fifteen minutes of fame, because I feel as giddy as a fangirl as I circle him, scribbling his measurements in my notebook.

Normally, I love working with professionals, since people who wear costumes for a living make my job easy.

But I’ve never felt less at ease as Dash stands on the small dais in his tight white tee, his body adjusting perfectly to the slightest touch.

I can’t tell if there’s a current flowing between us or if it’s just my hypersensitive nerves getting the best of me.

Get a grip, Kate.

This is work , I have to remind myself, and I’ve never wanted to do a better job in my life. Unfortunately, it’s hard to focus when my head is full of his sweet tea scent and his body is warm and pliable under my hands.

“Okay, I think I have everything I need,” I say abruptly, even though I can barely read the scrawl in my notebook. My chicken scratch writing would give Dr. Green a run for her money. “You can climb down and put your shirt back on.”

“Great.”

His abs flex as he obeys, and I swallow a groan as I retreat to the counter.

He’s still doing up his buttons as he joins me, and I wrack my brain for the next step in my process.

But when I look up at him, his gaze is fixed on my neck, and as I touch my scent gland, my fingers brush bare skin. “Oh, sorry. It must have fallen off…”

I look around, trying to find the missing Band-Aid, but Dash’s hand shoots out, stopping me. “You don’t have to cover up in front of me.”

I blink at the emotion in his voice. “It makes some people uncomfortable.”

“Screw them.” He huffs through his nose, his nostrils flaring in a really distracting way.

“And screw the asshole who did that to you.” He’s stopped buttoning his shirt, his hands now circling my wrists.

I stare at him, dazed, as his thumbs brush over my fluttering pulse. “You know he’s a fucking idiot, right?”

I’ve thought a lot of dark things about my ex-mate, especially since my chat with Lachlan.

I always knew Lee was selfish and competitive, but that just made me feel special, like a prize he was proud of winning.

The truth is, he was too caught up in his own bullshit to appreciate me as a person, let alone as a mate.

“Lee would probably say he fell out of love with me, but I’m not sure he’s capable of the emotion in the first place.

Except when it comes to loving himself.”

Dash grimaces. “Ugh. A narcissist. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

I shrug, but then another, more disturbing thought occurs to me. “Do you know Suzanna LaGrange?”

Dash released my hands to finish buttoning his shirt, but now he pauses to think. “The Red Rose Heiress, right? Yeah, she's a patron of the company, or her firm is, at least. Her pack has come to a few events, but I haven’t had anything to do with her personally.”

I wrinkle my nose at the nickname, but I guess it’s fitting.

Not only is she a redhead, but she’s famous for the beautiful rose gardens on her estate.

And she’s definitely an heiress, since she seems to have inherited my mate right out from under me.

“Well, she was Lee’s boss before she invited him into her harem.

Seems that three mates weren’t enough for her, and she needed mine as well. ”

“Shit.” Dash slumps against the counter next to me. “I heard she took another mate, but I didn't know the details. I'm really sorry, Kate. You deserve so much better.”

I do. When I look past the hurt and humiliation Lee left in his wake, I know that I deserve the same happiness as the next omega.

But my mate didn’t just abandon me, he took my love and devotion and made me believe they were worthless.

And then there’s the physical damage he’s caused to my body.

My soul might be slowly healing, but how will a romantic partner ever look past the mess on my throat?

Not only is it evidence of my mate’s rejection, but what kind of alpha would want an omega who only has one heat left in her?

Even my scent match – if that’s really what Corbus Janssen is to me – only showed me the kindness of a stranger.

I shake my head at the thought, given that the omega he’s courting is standing right in front of me. I like Dash – probably more than I should - and he deserves better than to have me complicating his relationship with his alpha.

“What about you? Is there a bonding suit in your near future?”

Dash bites his lip, caught somewhere between a smile and a shrug. “We’ve been courting for the last six months or so.”

“And…?”

“And… as much as I want to, I can’t take the next step.”

I blink at his answer. The alphas are clearly besotted with him, and Dash doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to lead people on. He knows his mind – it’s in every confident line of his body - so what’s holding him back?

“I want to be with them,” he goes on, his hands now tracing the grain on the cedarwood cabinet, “but I just want to make sure it's forever. I want to do this once, and get it right, and I need to know we’ll be enough for each other.” His head suddenly snaps up, his eyes wide with distress.

“Oh, shit. God, I'm an asshole. I didn't mean it like that.”

“It's okay. You can tell me how you feel without it reflecting back on my situation.” It’s true.

I’m not so myopic that I can’t see when someone else is hurting and be there for them.

“To be honest, I admire you for being careful.

It's a lot easier for alphas to move on than omegas. You have to protect yourself, even if it takes a little longer to share your heart.”

He makes a low sound, his eyes fixed on my face.

They’re so dark and luminous, it’s like staring into a moonlit lake, and I hold my breath, tasting his pain on my tongue.

“My parents were neglectful. Not just cold, but the kind of people who leave an eight-year-old home alone while they jet off for a romantic vacation together. The only anniversary they ever remembered was their bonding ceremony. And if I complained when they forgot my birthday, they locked me in my room, so all I had was a ballet barre for company. I just couldn't understand why two people who were so devoted to each other didn't have a little bit of love left over for me. I tell myself they were just assholes who should have never had a kid, but what if it’s me? What if there’s something about me that’s hard to love? ”

He gives me such a lost look I don’t hesitate to round the counter and pull him into my arms. His body is both warm and shivery, and I realize the current running between us isn’t just attraction.

It’s a shared kind of pain. “I'm sorry, Dash,” I whisper, stroking his back through his shirt.

“Even after everything that's happened to me, I refuse to believe real love is selfish like that. I think it should fill you up so much, it just pours out of you, and everyone gets to bathe in the ripples.”

He pulls back, the pain slowly easing from his gaze. “Yeah, me too. It should gush out of us like a fountain. Or in my case, a bloody nose.”

I laugh, because there’s nothing better than laughter after tears, but it catches in my throat as Dash lowers his head and seals his mouth over mine. I don’t think; I just melt into his kiss, a moan fluttering in my throat as he shuffles closer and swipes my seam with his tongue.

Not a current , I realize, but an electric storm.

It doesn’t ripple through me so much as scoop me up and toss me into the air, especially when his groan matches mine and he pulls me tighter.

Pleasure sparks across my back where he grips me, his mouth angling to deepen the kiss.

I don’t hesitate to part my lips, his sweet tea scent filling my lungs as he licks his way inside.

I don’t know how long we cling to each other, tasting the connection blooming between us.

My heart is pounding in my ears, every inch of my skin humming as our tongues brush together in an erotic dance.

I can’t ever remember a kiss feeling like this, and the realization is enough to yank me out of my haze.

“Wow.” Dash looks down at me, his eyes dilated to a midnight black. “Um. Do you want me to blame that on a ripple?”

I press my fingers to my swollen, tingling lips. “We could. But then it’s on you, not me, since I'm not in love with anyone. Not anymore.”

“Good.” There’s no missing the satisfied tilt to his mouth. “I'd hate for you to waste another second on your asshole ex. But mostly, I’m glad this is just about us.”

Us. Even though I know I should play it cool, the word shimmers across my skin, full of promise. “You’re the only one I was thinking about,” I admit.

He looks even more smug, but the fact I didn’t give his alphas a second thought is reason enough for us to slow things down.

There is no doubt in my mind that they’re serious about Dash, and that despite his fears, he also cares for them a lot.

How would they react to us kissing? It sends a tiny thrill through me, imagining them watching us with their hungry eyes, until reality drags me back to earth.

No matter the connection I feel forming with Dash, I’m still unbonded, and that isn’t something we can just ignore.

Dr. Green warned me that my upcoming heat – my last heat – will probably be a turbulent one. Attraction aside, would Dash really want to get tangled up in that? Omegas very rarely share their heats with other omegas, and dragging him into mine could be dangerous. Maybe even heartbreaking.

Slow your roll, Kate. No one said anything about sharing heats with the impossibly beautiful dancing superstar…

I duck my head, fiddling with the sample book, and I think Dash knows I need a little space, because he leans a hip against the counter and asks, “When should I come back for my next fitting?”