Page 20 of Want It All

‘Ninety-three,’ Sebastian said. His expression was a mix of pleased and disgruntled.

‘Ninety-one.’ Tristan glanced at his beta. ‘Good job, handsome.’

I looked across at Byron, who hadn’t bothered to check his mark at all; he was smiling, a soft, knowing smile that tied my insides in knots. ‘You got ninety-four, didn’t you?’

I flushed.

‘Congratulations, Rose,’ he said roughly, and my body went hot from his praise. His eyes flickered to Tristan. ‘Told you that you’d be a threat to anyone.’

I spent ages picking an outfit, because I’d never been to an adult party before, and I didn’t really have the right clothes.

I didn’t even know what the right clothes were .

I eventually settled on a cream-coloured smock dress, paired with some Roman-style sandals that laced to the knee.

I left my hair down and added some gold eyeshadow, then dabbed a light stain into my lips, hoping it wasn’t too much.

I made sure, too, that my underwear were the new ones I’d bought before coming to Banksia, with the most up-to-date, slick-proof lining, and that my skin was coated in scent canceller. I sprayed myself once I’d dressed for good measure, then dabbed some synthetic perfume on my wrists.

When Byron knocked on my door and his eyes went heavy at the sight of me, I stopped caring about whether my outfit was too much .

There was something so powerful about making his heart beat faster; something powerful and addictive .

‘Rosebud. You’re killing me,’ Sebastian said from behind him, raising his eyes to the moulded ceiling.

He wove around Byron to grab my hand, pulling me into the hallway.

Byron closed my door, then checked it was locked.

He was wearing his customary black, though he seemed to have donned slightly shinier boots for the occasion.

Sebastian, however, was in chinos and a linen button-down, his sleeves rolled up in a way that had no right to be so enticing.

Tristan was wearing something similar, only in lighter tones. His hair fell forward over his glasses.

It hit me, then, how beautiful he was. Sebastian was so blindingly lovely that he all but eclipsed everyone around him. Tristan’s beauty was quieter, all angles and shining curls, all calm self-assurance and piercing green eyes.

I swallowed.

‘We’ve got you,’ Sebastian said comfortingly, and tucked me into his side.

Everyone had spoken about the commencement party in vaguely hushed tones, as though it was a secret, but there was no way the staff didn’t know.

Two unfamiliar, muscled alphas stood outside the entranceway, clothed all in black, their shirts proclaiming SECURITY .

The First Year Library was lit by fairy lights and LED candles, and there was a tonne of food – clearly made in the Banksia kitchens – arranged on the study desks.

The chairs we used in class had been pushed along one wall, leaving an open space that students were already using as a dance floor.

The speakers Professor Heathcote used had been co-opted for a playlist; dance music pumped through the room.

James waved from where he, Pravin, and Alessia stood next to a study table, which held a huge bowl of what looked like the anticipated sangria.

There were canned drinks in bowls of ice, too; I grabbed a gin and tonic with a silent sigh of relief.

It didn’t matter that I was with alphas – I couldn’t afford to drink something without controlling the alcohol content, let alone something that might have been spiked.

There were a few more security alphas scattered unobtrusively around the room, and I spotted Marina in a corner, making out with Jasmine, a third-year student.

There was a lot of it going on, but I supposed it made sense.

Before designations emerged, people would have gotten this out of their systems by our age, and many would have had steady jobs, or even been parents.

But in the post-Unveiling age, it took so long for our bodies to adjust to the new hormones and instincts that it was almost like we prolonged our early twenties, as if we were trying to catch up on the things we’d missed while we were at home sweating and crying through the adjustments to our unreliable bodies.

It was the question of contemporary psychology: whether we, collectively, would ever really recover from the emergence of our designations.

I thought about it often. It was all too easy to remember the before , when I was simply a woman with a faint, sweet scent and regular periods. When my mind didn’t blank if I caught an alluring scent; when I didn’t slick with arousal, but simply got wet.

When I didn’t turn into a sex-hungry demon once every three months, begging for a bite. When I could have fucked someone and have it be simply that – a fuck. Not the potential for a lifelong, irrevocable bond via an alpha’s sharp teeth if they lost control.

When I didn’t have to take a cocktail of medications every morning to make sure those things didn’t happen.

I took a mouthful of my drink, trying to push the thoughts away. There was no going back; I could only make the best of what I had.

Byron smiled at me, his dark eyes almost black in the dim room, the angles of his face lit by flickering fairy lights, and I knew it wasn’t all bad.

Tristan pulled Sebastian close, muttering something in his ear before he gently pushed his beta towards the dance floor. ‘Dance with me!’ Sebastian hollered over the music, and at first I wasn’t sure who he was talking to – not until he grabbed my hand.

I let him pull me into the small crush of students, trying to avoid pressing against other people’s bodies until Sebastian carved us a space, right in the middle.

He danced like he did everything else: perfectly.

My limbs went tingly and hot watching him, seeing his hips move, his body swaying to the beat, my eyes tracing the curve of his throat as he threw his head back.

Fuck, the things I wanted to do to that neck.

Contrary to popular belief, omegas could bite, too.

We could forge bonds just as strong as an alpha if we bit first, tying a pack together with an omega at the centre, rather than a dominant alpha.

But because so much about omegas was still tangled up in historic gender norms, the popular imagination cast us as soft, submissive, small; as people who were made to follow, not lead.

It didn’t help that our instincts sometimes forced us into obedience over bravery, and our heats made us dependent on others, but those things didn’t mean we were weak , and they definitely didn’t mean that we couldn’t lead.

Bite the pretty beta , my omega purred.

My teeth ached, but I pushed the feeling aside, determined to have a good time. I wanted to be no more than a woman dancing with the ridiculously handsome man in front of her. I didn’t need a designation for that, or a claiming bite – just some music and to move my body.

Sebastian grinned at me, and I echoed his movements until we were dancing. He stepped closer, his eyes on my face, and it was like the day at the beach all over again. A pull towards him tightened in my chest as he slipped his arm around my back and tugged me forward, bringing our bodies together.

I could feel him everywhere .

My breasts pressed against his ribs, and he nudged a thigh between my legs. Heat shot through me and my arms linked behind his neck without me telling them to; he bent until his forehead was pressed to mine.

I was hot – too hot – but I didn’t care, because Sebastian was close, his breath smelled like sangria, and one of his hands spanned over my back, pressing me closer.

I licked my lips without thinking; his pupils blew out as he stared at my mouth. ‘I can’t even scent you, and I still want to eat you alive,’ he murmured, his lips brushing over my ear. I shivered, my knees going weak; if I hadn’t been leaning on him, I would have staggered.

I knew that this was stupid. I knew that there was only so much my blockers and suppressants could take before they began to fail. I knew that I was in a room full of alphas, and that I was putting myself in danger.

I kissed him anyway.

His lips were still for a moment before he moved and they moulded to mine. He tasted sweet, so sweet, with a cherry aftertaste to the fruit and red wine. It was a combination that I wanted to drink down, and I sighed into his mouth when his tongue flicked my lip.

My mouth slanted and I opened for him properly, our tongues touching.

He moaned and pressed me closer, his free hand sliding to cup my ass.

Arousal jolted through me at the touch, and my brow was sticky with sudden sweat, but I didn’t care because Sebastian Worthy was kissing me as if he really did want to devour me whole.

His hard chest crushed my breasts as he pressed even closer, one hand moving to tangle in my hair.

I couldn’t have escaped if I’d wanted to, but I couldn’t think of a single thing I wanted less.

I wanted my mouth on his for hours – days, weeks – and to have his hands on my skin and his heart against my body, to have the strange pull I felt in my chest eased by his closeness.

I shifted my weight, then went still as something pressed against me.

He was hard.

He was hard for me .

The realisation was too much; I should have known it would be too much. I gasped into his mouth even as my core flared with new heat and I felt a familiar heaviness as slick began to gather between my thighs.

He jolted back, his nostrils flaring, and fuck , I wished I was dreaming, wished I was wrong, but I caught the faintest hint of my natural perfume in the air.

‘Rosebud –’ he said hoarsely, but I couldn’t respond, because someone was wrapping me in a hoodie – one a few times too large for me – and I suddenly found myself cradled in a strong pair of arms, my face pressed into a broad chest covered in a black t-shirt.

Alpha , my instincts sighed, and I relaxed, because he was striding out of the First Year Library with me held close, growling savagely when a third-year student got in our way.

I whimpered, trying to press my thighs together to ease the ache between them. He tightened his hold as we passed the security alphas, and the omega in me liked that very much.

Alpha , my instincts said again.

I pressed my face into his chest, trusting that he was taking me somewhere safe – somewhere he could give me what I needed.

And what I needed right now was for someone to fuck me until I screamed.

‘Alpha,’ I begged, my voice muffled; I wasn’t really sure what I was begging for.

I peeked out sideways, recognising the corridor; he was taking me to my room.

That was fine; he could come into my bed-nest. I hoped he’d let me ride him.

Some alphas got funny about omegas being on top; the heat alphas had never let me be anything but face-down beneath them.

I didn’t think Byron would be like that.

I whined, pressing my thighs together again, shifting restlessly in his arms.

‘Fuck, omega,’ he growled, as I felt more slick gather. ‘Fuck. Fuck .’

He stopped, then set me down gently before my own door.

‘Open it, Rose,’ he said, his voice gravelly, as if he was grinding his teeth.

I fished inside the hoodie for my dress pocket, finding my swipe card and opening the door, my hands trembling. ‘Alpha –’

‘Lock it behind you with all the locks, okay? The deadlock as well as the chain. Then turn the air purifier on high, sweetheart.’

I paused, one foot through the doorway. ‘What do you mean?’

He was coming with me – wasn’t he?

‘I only caught a hint of your scent, Rose, but fuck … You’re sweet.

Sweet and rich and … I didn’t catch enough to place it.

’ He ran one hand through his hair, frustrated, while the other covered his nose and mouth.

‘I only caught a hint, but it’s driving me insane.

And I might not be the only one, omega. If you don’t want your neck covered in bites, lock the door, beautiful. Please.’

He wasn’t coming with me.

I whined again, but this time, it was with hurt. ‘You’re leaving? But I need –’

‘Rose. Sweetheart. I fucking wish I could stay. I wish I could help you. You have no idea how much. The things I want …’ He swallowed.

‘But this wasn’t the plan, was it? We’re both operating on instinct.

If I come in there …’ He tugged on his hair.

‘Rose, I want to bite you so fucking badly. That isn’t what you want.

That isn’t what you need . You’re here for a degree, not a pack. ’

I stared at him, hearing the echo of Chloe’s words – and my own – but there were voices coming from the end of the corridor, and sudden unease made my stomach churn.

I knew he was right. I was slicking, my blockers were wearing off, and if I didn’t lock my door soon, someone might find their way in – and it wouldn’t be the person I wanted.

‘Fine,’ I growled, feeling almost as savage as the sound.

I turned and slammed my door behind me. My underwear was damp, and my cunt was throbbing, begging to be filled, but I hooked the chain and flicked the deadbolt like Byron had said, then turned the air purifier up to its highest setting.

For good measure, I grabbed a clean towel from the bathroom, rolling it up and stuffing it along the base of my door before opening the windows.

I wasn’t in heat, so hopefully my scent would dissipate easily in the night air.

I heard a thump from the other side of the door; when I checked the camera, I saw that Byron had slumped down against it, his head in his hands. As I watched, he threw his head back, thumping it against the wood.

‘Fuck,’ he swore, his voice somehow deeper over the camera. ‘ Fuck .’

I pulled my phone from my pocket and called him.

He picked up immediately. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Do you really want to help me with this?’

He was silent for a moment. ‘I think you know that I do,’ he said at last, his voice low and hoarse.

‘Then go to your room.’

On the camera, he turned and stared at my door, startled. ‘What?’

‘Your room,’ I repeated. ‘Go there. Then call me.’

‘I –’ He swallowed audibly. ‘Okay. Whatever you want.’

I watched him end the call, then get to his feet and walk away. I made my way to my bedroom and opened the drawer in my bedside table.

He’d been right to walk away, but it didn’t mean that nothing could happen.

I could still make both of us feel good.