The evening sun still hovers above the rooftops, casting the street in golden light as I leave the bus and make my way down the avenue of large houses. Around me, windows transform into mirrors and the sun is warm on my face, the breeze frisking my hair. I feel content.
When I reach the packhouse, I skip up to the doorstep and press the bell. The house is silent beyond the door, and I push up onto my toes, attempting to peer through the mottled glass.
It’s then I’m hit by it. That dark and dominant scent of treacle. I freeze.
“Move to the side, Omega,” he says in that deep growl of a voice, and I practically flatten myself against the wall. He reaches around me, taking care not to touch me, and unlocks the door. The snap of the locks makes me jump.
The door swings back, and he marches through the doorway, leaving it open behind him. “Are you coming in?” he barks.
I attempt to shake off the feeling of fear and step through into the dark hallway, shutting the door quietly behind me.
I gaze up the staircase towards the first floor where Ollie’s room is. I could easily make myself comfortable in there. Ollie wouldn’t mind. But my eyes fall back to the retreating figure of Seb as he disappears into the kitchen.
I swallow. I’m not going to let him intimidate me. I’m not going to let him ruin this for me. What I have with Zane and Duncan and Ollie is special, and some grumpy arsehole with an unjustified grudge against me can’t trample all over it.
So I drop my overnight bag by the bottom of the stairs and follow him into the kitchen.
As soon as I’m in the room with him again though, that momentary flash of resolve and bravery slips away like water down a plughole, and I slither against the wall, my hands behind my back.
He’s so big, and everything about him, from his scent to his fierce scowl, screams dominance.
He stares at me for several long seconds. I fight the urge to drop my gaze to the ground with every drop of willpower I still possess. The air between us seems to crackle with tension. I can almost taste it on the tip of my tongue.
In the end, it’s too much. I close my eyes.
“Do you want something to drink?” His voice is less menacing. I prize my eyelids open and find he’s turned around and is filling the kettle. I let out the breath I’d been holding in a rush.
“Tea, please.”
He yanks off the tap and drops the kettle back into its cradle. Then he flicks the switch and turns back towards me.
“Why do you hate me?” I ask, so quietly I’m not sure he hears. But he’s watching my lips move.
“I don’t hate you.”
My nails scratch against the paintwork on the wall behind me. The breath in my lungs feels heavy.
“You don’t want me to be part of this pack though, do you?”
The kettle starts to rumble.
“I don’t think you’re right for this pack.”
His words hit me plump on the chest and my heart aches. “Why?”
“Because you don’t want someone like me, Omega. And to be in this pack, you have to want every one of us.”
I cock my head. Steam rises from the kettle, floating over his head. “Someone like you?”
He takes a step towards me and I see his hands balled into fists by his sides. “Someone who can’t spoil you. Can’t buy you pretty things.” His dark eyes borrow into me. “I can’t give you that.”
“What can you give me?” I ask, breathless.
“Discipline. Dominance.” He steps closer again. His nostrils flair. “Danger.”
“Maybe I do want that.”
He laughs bitterly. “Maybe you think you do. Hell, maybe you even fantasise about it sometimes. But the reality – the reality you couldn’t handle.”