Page 34 of Knot Their Girl
“Just what?”
For a moment, for just the quickest of moments, I think about telling her about the injections I take, but I decide against it. I trust her, but at the same time, I don’t want her judging me or trying to convince me that those injections are a bad idea. So, instead, I say, “I’m just not used to being in a house with two alphas that aren’t related to me, I guess. You know how it is.”
“You’re not bonded to Gideon yet.” Her gaze falls to my neck. “Your body is probably trying to tell you something.”
I reach up to my neck and rub it over the scent gland tucked away beneath my skin. I’m a little greasy—that scent-blocking cream never fully sinks in. “Yeah, well, Gideon’s supposed to be mine, not anyone else.”
“For a girl who never wanted an alpha for herself, I find it so strange to hear you say that.”
I roll my eyes at her, and I have to look away, trying to hide the truth from her. Of course, when I look away, I happen to glance over at Pax, and I find the alpha with his arms crossed, staring at me. Even from fifty or so feet away, it’s an intense look that makes me want to squirm.
Mercedes asks quietly, “Is it so wrong to have an alpha or two? I never thought I’d say it, but I am happier with my pack. If you would’ve asked me four months ago if I’d be where I am today, as happy as I am today, I would’ve thought you were out of your mind.”
She’s not lying. I can hear the truth in her tone. I’m glad she’s happy where she is, that she found her forever pack with her forever mates. After everything she’s been through, she deserves it. She deserves all that and more.
But me? I don’t know about any of that.
We talk for a bit more as we finish our lunch, but I’m not going to lie, my mine is elsewhere. On Pax, on Gideon, on Colter. One I shouldn’t think about at all, the next I’m only contracted topretend to be in a relationship with, and the latter should be my only real priority.
Ugh. Things are complicated, aren’t they? Why can’t my life be simple?
Soon enough, it’s time to go home, and during the car ride there, I stare out of the window, leaning as far away from Pax as I can. I might not smell his alpha musk right now, but the rest of my body didn’t get the memo: being near him makes my temperature go up to what must be a dangerous level.
After a minute or two of silence, Pax speaks, his voice so low it’s like a growl, “You’re quiet.” And I hate how attractive that growly sound is to me.
I don’t look at him. I can’t. I won’t. All I do is shrug, which he doesn’t really see because he’s driving.
“Did something happen between you and Mercedes?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?” The question, once again, is growled out, and goosebumps rise on my arms in an immediate response. “You’re being too quiet. Something has to be wrong.” We slow to a stop at a red light, which gives him the opportunity to really look at me—which I pretend to ignore. “Raeka.”
I suck in a hard breath, keeping my eyes glued to the window next to me. The way he says my name… I can see how a weaker omega might melt instantly. As it is, even without smelling him, the nerves in my body are going haywire, crisscrossing on their own accord. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I don’t like it.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” Still at the red light. Pedestrians are walking on the cross-walks. When I don’t say a word, Pax’s tone deepens, and he takes on a commanding authority I could never hope to match: “Tell me what’s wrong.” As the words fall unto my ears, I shiver as I realize fighting them, resisting them, is impossible.
The bastard just used his alpha dominance on me. What. The. Fuck.
I grind my teeth, but it’s pointless to resist. I’m an unbonded omega, and he’s an über alpha. It’s just the way of things, as much as I hate to admit it. So, through gritted teeth, I mutter, “What’s wrong with me is…” Fuck this guy and the stupid horse he rode in on. “You.”
The light finally turns green, but Pax doesn’t drive. He’s too busy staring at me like I gave him the wrong answer. “Me?” Behind us, car horns fill the air, which finally forces him to press the gas pedal and get us moving again.
“Yeah, you, you asshole.” Now I’m glaring at him, my nostrils flaring. “Don’t ever use your dominance on me again. Got it?”
“Fine,” he says, hands tight on the wheel, so tight his knuckles turn white. “Is there something specific about me that’s bothering you? Something you want me to fix?” The last question is grunted through bared teeth.
We’re on the outer edge of traffic, so I tell him, “Stop the car.”
“What?”
“Stop the freaking car!”
He slams on the brakes and earns himself more honking, but I don’t care. I unlock the passenger door, undo my seatbelt, and get out of the car. The moment I step out, into the not-so-fresh air of downtown, I breathe in deeply. Even though I can’t smell Pax’s musk, it’s like the rest of me knows it’s there. The air in the car was thick and stifling. Out here might smell like pollution and dirt, but it’s still better.
“Get back in the car,” Pax calls out to me.
“No,” I say, and then I spin around on my heels and start marching in the direction opposite of traffic, so it wouldn’t be easy for him to follow. I’m not running. I don’t plan on going into any dark alleys. The sidewalks are pretty full. I just need some air, some alone time. Time to get my body under control.
