My eyes are still closed when the scent hits me. What is that? Licorice? Anise? A memory comes to me of a time back in grad school when a friend handed me a dark green drink with a little tiny pitcher of ice cold water, instructing me to pour a small amount into the glass. When I followed the instructions, the liquid clouded like mist rolling in from the sea.
Absinthe.
I haven’t thought of that night in a long time. It was the first time I felt the familiar ache in my bones, the crushing need in my core. The heat that never came, that’s lingered on the periphery ever since.
I must have had one vivid dream if I can smell the scent in my nostrils even now after all these years.
Shifting to my back, I go to rub my eyes, but fabric falls onto my face. I yell, startled as I rip the material off me. In my hand is a black bandana I’ve never seen before. The scent of it soaks into every cell in my body.
Mate.
I whimper, dropping the fabric like it burns. Who…? How…?
An alpha growl stuns me as Roman throws back the flap on my tent and charges in. “What happened?”
His presence dominates the small space, the omega in me cowering and scooting so far back on the cot that I tumble to the floor. Right next to the bandana.
Like a feral beast, I snatch it and bring it to my nose, eyes rolling back in my head before I regain a semblance of control and toss the fabric away. No. No no no no. This can’t be happening, not yet! I can’t be what a scent match needs me to be. I’m a broken omega. Unable to have a heat. And no heat, means no bonds, and no children.
“What the hell is going on?” Roman picks up the fabric that fell between us. I lunge for him, needing it in my grasp, but stop halfway there, terrified to touch it again.
“It’s n-n-not mine,” I manage to say.
He snarls, nostrils flaring. “Clearly.”
I move toward him again. Then back, muscles tense.
“S-someone was in my tent.”
The growl he lets loose is saturated with alpha power. It shakes me to my knees. He curses and takes my elbow, hauling me up. “Come on.”
“Wait!” I jerk away, a new fear making my heart pound. Ripping the pillow from my bed, I sigh when I see the puzzle box still there. Roman grabs it with the same hand holding the bandana and uses his other hand to pull me out of the tent.
Dazed, I stumble as he marches me two tents down towhere Bear is staying. “Wake up,” he nearly barks before we’re even there.
The burly alpha rubs his eyes as he steps out into the early morning light.
“Someone snuck into Dr. Whitlock’s tent,” Roman growls.
Bear snaps to attention, completely alert. His large, warm hands take my shoulders as he peers into my face. “Are you alright?”
His presence is more calming than Roman’s protective anger, and my heart slows. I didn’t realize how fast it was racing. My gaze flicks to the fabric still clenched in Roman’s hand.
“I think so,” I murmur.
“This was in her tent.” Roman holds out the bandana. I can’t take my eyes off it.
“In… in my bed,” I whisper.
Both alphas growl at that.
“She’s not staying in that fucking tent.” Roman crosses his arms over his chest. “She’ll stay with me.”
“What?” I squeak. “You hate me.”
He flinches, but doesn’t correct me. “This isn’t up for negotiation.”
I swing my gaze to Bear, hoping he’ll back me up on this. Since when does Bossy-pants McGee over here think he has any say over where I sleep?