Page 22 of Power Shift

“Yes, Clover, I’m on my way. The vent system is down, so I was on the phone with Larry . . . Yeah, again. At least he’s on his way. I was surprised at how accommodating he was, but I think that’s only because I’m still a new tenant . . . Okay, that’s rude. Two months is still new . . . Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

I lean over the first few stairs as I listen. The soft, delicate voice drifts toward me on a breeze. A breeze that smells like freshly squeezed lemons drizzled over cookies hot from the oven. It’s almost . . . familiar.

The sound of a door closing and locking drives a stake of panic between my ribs. I jump toward the windows at the end of the hall and grip the frame in a tight fist as I search for the owner of that delicious scent and twinkling voice that I want purring my name.

Fuck.

The woman strutting down the sidewalk is almost out of view. I lean against the window, my shaking chest bumping the glass as if maybe that would bring me closer to her. Only a sliver of her is visible to me. A thick thigh, rounded ass, and an ample, curved waist that leads to a dainty shoulder and?—

She turns down the street, out of view.

Disbelief rocks me. My cock is painfully hard, straining behind the zipper of my jeans. The force of the pulse in my knot makes me groan in pain as I push off the glass and hover, staring at where the woman just was.

That tart shortbread cookie scent still lingers, even as the sweetness of my caramel threatens to drown it out. My hand slides down the railing, slick with sweat, as I stumble down the stairs, chasing her scent.

It leads past the second floor and down to the first. There’s something other than my mind controlling me right now. An intense pulling sensation deep in my chest that continues to guide me to the front of the building.

I gasp for breath, subtly pawing at where my heart is racing. Every inhale pulls more of her into my lungs, painting them in her scent.

For the second time today, I hear the clunking noise that was inside my mom’s apartment. A thick, suffocating sense of dread threatens to knock my knees out from beneath me. I whip my head around, breathing in quicker as cool air starts blowing on my skin.

I stagger closer to the front of the building and search for my omega’s scent. It’s too hard to accept that it’s . . . gone.

“Hey. Would you mind spreading the word that the vents are fixed? Lucky I was already here when they kicked off.”

My lip quivers as I hold myself back from snarling at the man who’s just stepped out of the maintenance room. Backing up, I force myself against the wall furthest from him instead of attacking him.

Red tints his appearance. Instincts I never knew existed overwhelm me, and with every second I linger, the weaker I get to the one that demands I dispose of the man intruding on my omega’s territory.

My omega.

Yeah, she’s mine. The faceless woman with that enthralling, exquisite scent is mine. And I need to find her.

With a curl of my lip, I slip out of the apartment building. The fresh air doesn’t curb my desire. I’m on edge, a ticking time bomb. Every second I stand alone, the worse I get. So, I run.

I run until I can’t anymore.

8

BRIAR

The days pass quicklyonce I’ve gotten myself back together enough to live like normal. Busy with back-to-back baby deliveries and then home visits, it’s been hard to find the time to wallow in self-pity.

I save that for once I’ve gotten home and start drinking fruity wine from the bottle in a hot bubble bath. My stock of bath bombs and fancy lotion bars is quickly depleting at the rate I’m going, and I’m still not over what happened.

The initial burn has died a bit. Now, I’m left with that biting sensation in my gut that has me constantly second-guessing myself. It’s like something’s wrong, but I’m unable to pinpoint what. All I know is that I’m just . . . off.

“Okay, she should be here any minute,” Clover announces, peeking through the small gap left in the office doorway.

“She’s not going to appear any quicker with you spying.”

“Hush. I don’t want her to hear us gossiping.”

I hide a laugh in my hand. “Alright.”

“We have everything ready, right?” She whips around, abandoning the door in her panic. “The pamphlets andinformation packets? I emailed you the forms, right? Are they printed?”

“Slow down. We’ve done this a million times by now. I printed the forms and went through the folder this morning to check if we missed anything. Which we didn’t. This meeting isn’t any different than any of the others we’ve done.”

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