Page 34 of Want It All

When Tristan didn’t return after a couple of hours, I tried not to worry.

My mind played out a hundred different scenarios. Best case was that he’d found a complementary scent and was blowing its owner’s mind beneath a tree, getting ready to bring them back to our room so we could make sure they were complementary with me, too.

Worst case, someone had spiked his drink and he was lying dead under said tree, with a bunch of drunk alphas fucking all around him, taking no notice.

Which was impossible. Everybody noticed Tristan.

At two in the morning, I gave up and texted Rose.

To my surprise, she answered immediately. What’s wrong?

Tristan isn’t back yet .

She called a moment later. ‘Byron hasn’t checked in, either,’ she said, by way of greeting.

I stretched out on the couch, staring at the ceiling. ‘Maybe they got wasted together.’

‘I don’t think Byron can drink. Because of all the medication.’

I sighed. ‘Tristan refuses to drink anything that costs less than three hundred dollars a bottle, anyway.’ I rolled onto my side. ‘All I could see from my window were cans of bourbon and cola.’

Rose made a noise which could have been disgust at the alphas’ drink choices, or a scoff at Tristan’s pickiness, or perhaps both. ‘Maybe … Maybe they’re just having a really good time?’

‘I don’t know if I prefer that thought, or hate it.’

‘Because you’re not out there, too, being the centre of Tristan’s world?’

I snorted. ‘I’m the centre of his world whether I’m with him or not.’

Rose was silent for a moment. ‘That must be nice,’ she said, not bothering to hide the wistfulness in her tone.

I’d never really thought about whether it was nice or not; I’d always taken it for granted. I frowned, shaken by the notion that other people – that Rose – didn’t have the same kind of unwavering devotion, the same kind of steadfast security.

A moment later, I realised that I wanted to give that feeling. To her, specifically.

The realisation shook me further.

I took a shuddering breath. ‘Rosebud –’

A scratch outside interrupted me, and after some scraping noises and some thumps – maybe Tristan had drunk some of the pre-mixed drinks? – the door opened.

‘Alpha –’ I started, intending to playfully needle him, but something was terribly wrong.

Tristan staggered into the room, looking all kinds of wrecked. His curls were a mess, his glasses askew. His shirt was crumpled, the buttons undone to just below his pecs, showing a stretch of skin I wasn’t sure he wanted exposed.

I didn’t freeze because of any of that, though. It was his eyes, glazed and unseeing. He stumbled to the couch and collapsed to sit, cradling his head in his hands.

I darted to close and lock the door behind him, seized by the sudden notion that someone was after him. I’d been briefed by his family, after all; I knew it was a possibility, and always would be.

But no one came after Tristan; no one beside the demon he was battling, anyway. I knelt before him, tentatively placing my hands on his thighs. ‘Alpha?’

He gave a shuddering exhale. ‘Seb. My love.’

He smelled like vanilla-scented sweat and cum – his own – and salted fucking caramel , which meant he’d spent the night close to Byron.

Perhaps very close, given the cum.

I tried to fight against the rising tide of heat that swept over me at their combined scents. Tristan smelled like a dessert platter, and it was mouthwatering . All that was missing was the elusive hint of chocolate –

‘Seb?’ Rose’s voice came from the couch. ‘Are you all right?’

I cleared my throat and fished my phone out from between the cushions. ‘Something’s up with Tristan, Rosebud. I have to go. I’ll text you.’ I stuffed my phone back where it had fallen. ‘Tris, handsome, what happened?’

‘Doesn’t want me,’ he said numbly.

I blinked. ‘What?’

‘Doesn’t want me,’ he repeated, a little louder, as if that would help me understand.

I bristled. ‘Who doesn’t want you?’ I’ll fucking end them. Somehow.

‘My scent match doesn’t want me.’

I’d never had vertigo, but imagined it would be something like the sensation I experienced hearing his words: my head swam, and it felt as if the world spun on its axis. I swayed; if I’d been standing, I would have fallen.

Tristan had refused to bite me for years on the chance that my scent match might miraculously appear in my life. While I’d understood – to a point – I’d never taken the possibility seriously. Why would I? I was statistically more likely to be struck by lightning or be killed by a shark – or a cow.

And never once had I worried about his scent match appearing instead.

Jealousy exploded in my stomach like a dying star. I coughed, trying to control the feeling, to push it away, push it down, but it was hot and awful and it made my throat close.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so confident about my place in Tristan’s world.

I bit back a hysterical laugh, forcing myself to inhale slowly.

Tristan was staring sightlessly at the floor, clearly in pieces; I could have my breakdown later.

I slid my hands over his thighs, trying to catch his attention.

‘Alpha. You found your scent match?’ My voice broke; I swallowed. ‘They’re here ?’

He gave a bitter laugh. ‘Yes. They’re here. It’s Byron fucking Griffiths.’

I closed my eyes.

Of course it was . Tristan was covered in his scent; I should have already realised. My stomach twisted. I imagined them side-by-side, imagined breathing in their combined scents, one pair of green eyes and one pair of grey gazing back at me.

Abruptly, the jealousy dissolved, replaced once more by approving heat.

Fucking omega instincts , I fumed, but I was distracted once more by Tristan’s scent as I breathed in. Vanilla and salted caramel? Cover me in fucking sugar.

I couldn’t be mad at Tristan. This was what I’d wanted; this was the pack I’d wanted. He was doing exactly as I’d asked him to. ‘What happened, my love?’

Tristan leaned forward, pressing his forehead to mine. ‘We fucked in the maze.’

Okay, wow. I let that sink in before waving a hand. ‘Yeah, I got that part, Tris. You’re covered in cum and you smell like something I want to roll in. But fucking your scent match is supposed to be amazing . Don’t tell me it was bad, alpha. I’ll never recover.’

He cupped my face, forcing a watery smile.

‘What the fuck did I do to deserve you?’ I made a dismissive noise, but he gripped my chin tightly, his eyes locked on mine.

‘You know this changes nothing between us, right, omega? My love for you is here.’ He rested his free hand over his heart.

‘It’s so deep and so strong it will never fade, Seb.

You own my heart. But Byron is … beside it, somehow. Even if he doesn’t want to be there.’

I frowned. Byron didn’t exactly worship Tristan, but they were a scent match . ‘Why do you think that?’

‘Because he said it,’ Tristan answered wryly, a hint of his usual self shining through. ‘He told me that he hated me, let me fuck him, then told me again after I –’ he faltered, inhaling, as if steeling himself ‘– after I ran my teeth over his scent gland.’

My stomach dropped. ‘You bit him?’ I hated how my voice wavered, thinning into a pathetic whisper.

‘I didn’t.’ Tristan moved back, still looking me in the eye, and I tensed. ‘But Seb … I wanted to.’

I whined before I could stop myself, a high, needy sound. Tristan pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me so tightly I almost couldn’t breathe. I shoved my face into the curve of his neck, needing comfort, even though it was him who’d caused the pain.

It hurt. It hurt all the way to my bones, a jarring agony of rejection. I’d been so certain that Tristan worshipped the ground I walked on, but knowing that he’d almost bitten someone else?

Fuck , it hurt.

‘I wasn’t thinking,’ he whispered, and I was almost as shaken by that , because my alpha thought about things even when he was asleep.

‘I couldn’t think. My instincts were so loud, Seb, and my canines had pushed through, and all I wanted was his blood in my mouth.

Needed it, even. I would have done it,’ he went on, his voice muffled by my shoulder but still heavy with shame.

‘If he’d let me, I would have done it, Seb. ’

I whimpered, and he responded with a full-body purr, making my omega instincts roll over and show their belly as my limbs went limp and my head lolled on his shoulder.

I would have protested that I didn’t need it, that I could bear the pain, but I could tell it was comforting him, too, as he fell back into the alpha role he was made for.

‘As much as you hate me right now,’ he whispered, ‘just know that I hate myself far more.’

‘Oh, Tris,’ I said thickly, forcing my head up to drag my nose over his scent gland.

‘I don’t hate you. I never could. I won’t say that I’m not upset, because I am .

That shit hurts, alpha. You know how much I want your bite, and you nearly gave that to someone else.

’ I pressed a kiss to his tender skin. ‘But you and I are endgame, scent match or no scent match.’ I shook off the effects of his purr with difficulty, pulling back to study his face.

He was drawn, haggard, even. ‘Do you want to work through this?’

‘Of course I do,’ he said hoarsely. ‘ Always , Sebastian.’

‘Then we will.’ I smoothed down his unruly curls. ‘We’ll work it through.’

The next day we skipped class and went down to the beach, just the two of us. It was overcast and windy, so we had it entirely to ourselves. I waded through the frigid shallows, feeling the push and pull of the waves on my feet and calves, while Tristan sat on the white sand, watching me.

He wasn’t okay. It felt odd to term what he was going through mourning , but that’s what it felt like, as if he were grieving for something – or someone – he’d lost. Though he tried to contain it, devastation and longing poured off him, and it added fuel to the fire of my hurt.