Page 80 of Unmarked

Not to accept it.

I reach my room - sorry, 'the guest quarters'- and strip off my jeans with the flair of a man who knows he looks good and deserves applause. I stretch, slow and smug, because I know Theo’s watching from across the hall.

Arms behind my head, back arched just enough. I’m in nothing but tight black briefs now - low on my hips, showing off the ridges of muscle, the ink curling around my thigh, the v-line that’s gotten me into a lot of trouble.

His book hasn’t moved in ten minutes, and neither has his very obvious crush.

“Evening,” I purr.

He makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like someone choking on his own spit. Doesn’t shut the door, though.

Progress.

I lounge on the bed in nothing but my briefs, one leg up like a cover model for a very inappropriate fitness calendar.

Then I stare at the ceiling and count my regrets.

One. Not sneaking out last night to blow off some steam.

Two. Not fucking that barista in Sector Five when she offered.

Three. The permanent mental image of Lucian dry-humping air outside Rhea’s door while growling commands like a horny warlord.

And speaking of Rhea...fuck.

That is one hot little omega.

Her scent is still in the walls. In the sheets. In mysoul. It’s sweet and sharp and completely illegal. I’d bottle it if I could. Maybe sell it to the next poor bastard trying to understand what it means to be absolutely ruined by someone you haven’t even kissed.

My cock’s already hard. Figures.

I slide my hand beneath my briefs, stroke once, sigh like a man sentenced to monkhood.

I want to wreck something. Her, preferably. But since that’s not on the table...

I groan and flip onto my stomach, dragging a pillow under me like it’s going to apologize for not being Rhea. I grind against it slowly, muttering to myself.

“This house is hell. This isalpha abuse. Where’s the damn union rep?”

Nothing answers. Not even Theo, though I bet his ears are bright pink.

Still. She’s in there. Pressing up against the other side of that door, flushed and slick and breaking for us - one broken moan at a time.

And I’m not even mad Lucian got the first taste.

Well. Maybe a little.

But I’ll get mine.

Sooner or later, that girl’s gonna say my name too.

And then, I do it - becausewhy not?

I mean,sure,I could journal about my feelings or meditate or crochet a scarf like a healthy, emotionally regulated adult.

But no. I do what any red-blooded alpha would do after seventy-two hours locked in a mansion with three other testosterone goblins and an unclaimed omega scenting the entire estate like a walking wet dream.

I jerk off.

---