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Liam mind links me the entire drive there, arguing why he wanted to pick me up.

I suddenly hear my phone beep. It’s an incoming message. I think it’s Liam, or maybe Dave for a brief second.

Ella?

Even Finn.

But dread settles inside me even before I open it. It’s almost like my instincts are yelling at me not to read it or open it.

I do it nevertheless.

You think a new hairstyle will make you more appealing? You are still the same ugly Omega as before.

Attached to the message, there is a photo. Of me, exiting the hair salon.

For a moment, all I can do is stare. Stare at the message, the picture, and then read it again. I can feel my heartbeat slowing down. It's not racing in horror this time; it seems to have retreated from the dread settling in me.

But then there is another feeling coming through. I can feel my body getting hotter like I’m boiling. How pathetic. How unbelievably pathetic! Who would even stoop so low? Does it give them a sick kick or what? It’s just petty and annoying at this point.

In my sudden spurt of anger, I have to hold myself back from typing an answer. In the past few days, I've looked into having a stalker, and I read what victims advise others to do in these situations. They say you don't acknowledge them!

So, I won’t.

They do not exist.

They do not exist.

Their existence means nothing.

I throw my phone back into my bag as I ring the doorbell for Liam's apartment. L. Alcott, his name is the last one in the row. I chuckle slightly at how naïve I was. I thought his apartment would be normal, for lack of a better word, but even the entrance door looks fancy. Once I step into the building, I see that there's even a doorman. He knows I’m coming and calls the elevator for me. Liam’s apartment is the penthouse on the top floor, of course.

His door is already open when I step out.

“Liam?”

“Come on in,” he calls from inside. I can hear some plates being shoved around, and it smells lovely.

He is not cooking for me, is he? I flush slightly. That would be so sweet. I take in my surroundings and look for the kitchen… and my mate. The apartment is big as anticipated. It's modern, but instead of being over-the-top fancy, it's tasteful. I don’t know what I expected, maybe some sort of man cave with leather sofas and dark furniture? To my surprise, the apartment was built as a wide-open concept. There are a lot of windows allowing the sun to shine through. A little library. There's not a lot of clutter or excess furniture or decorations either.

I find him in the kitchen. He's shuffling about in there like it's second nature to him. He is tall and muscular, yet he moves around so elegantly. My heart speeds up instantly at the sight in front of me. I don’t even need the mate pull anymore to be drawn to him, to want him to hold me, to feel him close. I sneak closer, wrapping my arms around him from behind. I lean my head against his back.

“Look who’s here,” he purrs.

“Either you have your guard down, or you are used to being tackled from behind,” I joke.

“I would like to believe that you are the only one who dares to snuggle up to me like that.” I can hear the smirk in his voice. He dries his hands with a towel and turns around, cupping my face and pulling me into a kiss. He draws back after a while to look at me. “I am- “

A pause.

“Liam? Is something wrong?”

He stares at me for a long while, his gaze wandering from my head to my top, back to my head. He reaches out his hand, touching my hair.

“Is it bad?” I ask, suddenly feeling anxious.

“Good thing we are not in public tonight,” he comments with a frown, his voice sounding hoarse.

“So, you like it?” I shake my head playfully to allow my hair to fly around.