Page 16 of Vallaverse: Noir
This is so reckless.
Every step I take towards the middle of the room makes my heart race with increasing doubt. What if I go into heat in the middle of this room and no one wants me? What if my scent doesn't appeal to any of them, even in the middle of a heat? What if the opposite happens? What if I appeal to every Alpha in the room? And the Valla? It would be a bloodbath. All that violence and pain would be my fault. Can I live with the weight of that amount of destruction?
I can feel my temperature rising, every degree accentuated with another twist or pinch deep inside me as I continue walking across the floor. This is it. Anticipation, anxiety, and fear are all warring inside me, but push past my tight chest and shallow breathing. There's no going back. There's nothing I can do to stop what happens next.
I step between the next set of tables and freeze. I am suddenly enveloped in a warm cloud of honeyed citrus. My nostrils flare,drawing in as much of that scent as I can. I have never had such a violent reaction to a scent. Not from any person or scent card. This scent fills me with such a violent yearning that I almost drop to my knees.
Where.
Where are they?
I whip my head from left to right. The scent is stronger coming from the right. In the direction of the bar. It's on the far right wall of the room, which might as well be miles away from where I am. The bar is lined with people. This scent could belong to any one of them. It could also belong to any of the people standing and sitting on that side of the room. I was just at the bar a few minutes ago. This scent wasn't there. I wouldn't have missed it.
I start moving again, step by step, concentrating so much on that scent that anyone who isn't attached to it melts away into the background. I pass tables filled with muted scents and the muddy shapes of people as my stomach clenches with increasing cramps. I'm getting closer. The closer I get to the source of the scent that has taken over my entire being, the more my body reacts to it; already growing hard and slick in preparation. Part of it is heat, but even that is more intense because of this scent.
Desperation claws at me as I keep moving without finding anything. The scent is getting stronger, but I still can't find the source. I gag with the effort to keep the whimper constricting my throat from escaping.
One more step. Two. Cramps and pinching are beginning to twist into real pain. I'll be crawling soon. I don't care. I'll crawl if it gets me to the source of this scent.
There.
She's there.
At the bar.
Talking to another male.
The rage that fills me is made sharper by the need coursing through me as I watch his hand reach forward to touch her hand, and I snap. I stalk toward her, fury quickening my steps. I'm going to break every finger that touched her. And then I'm going to tear his arm off.
I'm standing in front of them before any of us realize it, snarling. Her eyes, deep brown eyes, widen and her mouth parts as my own hand snaps out to grasp the back of her neck. I jerk her toward me and bury my nose just behind her ear. My eyes roll back for a moment as I take in her bright lemon scent.
“Mine.”
Chapter Eleven
Dana
If I wasn't shocked enough by this Omega – this Omega who is actively going into heat – snatching me off balance and pulling me into his body, I would probably have a bigger reaction to the Valla – the same one I was watching earlier – appearing almost out of thin air, wrapping his huge hand around my arm to help me regain my balance.
The Omega didn't mean to offset me. He wouldn't have known about my mobility and balance issues. Based on the rich combination of mahogany and pheromones I'm currently swimming in, he didn't have much of a choice. And the longer we stand here with me caught between a snarling Omega and a growling Valla, the more dangerous this situation is going to become.
I wish I had more time to revel in the realization that they are somehowbothmy scent match. I want to wallow in it. The mere truth of it has me reeling. But there is no time. Neither of them are aware of the reality of our situation, and neither of them arelikely to be rational. In fact, if we don't get out of this ballroom really, really quickly, both of them will definitely become very irrational.
And I won't be far behind them. This Omega's heat is hitting him hard and fast. He's mine. It doesn't matter that I don't know his name. I know his scent. He's mine, and it's my responsibility to get him safely out of here before shit hits the fan. The other unfortunate fact of the matter is that my brand new Omega's scent is going to affect the Valla more quickly and harshly than it will affect me.
“Let go, Omega.” The Valla's voice is deep, little more than a guttural sound. His grip on my arm doesn't tighten, but he tugs me once.
The Omega's grip does tighten, not too much, just tight enough that his thumb is slightly digging into the hollow of my throat, growling, making it very clear that he isn't going to let go. “She's mine.”
The one thing we don't need right now is a feral Omega in the throws of heat attacking a Valla.
“Well,” I say as calmly as I possibly can from the center of this game of tug-o-war. “You're both mine, and I need to get all of us out of here before someone gets hurt.”
Neither of them move.
“Now,” I say. “BeforeIget hurt.”
Still, they don't move; but the Omega releases the slightest whimper and something snaps inside of me. My throat vibrates with a purr and I can feel the reaction the sound has on both of them.
