Page 81 of In Deep
I keep going.
I hand in my assignments. I tutor my maths students and turn up for my shifts at the museum. I sleep in my little single bed in my tiny dorm room, and I eat meals-for-one that I cook in the communal kitchen.
More days pass in a blur of sameness. I count the days to the holidays until I can escape from this place where I’ve never belonged and return to my sisters. Where I’ll lie about my adventures, editing out all the important events of the last term.
The days grow longer and hotter until I find myself one afternoon in the museum. The Director has opened the giant wooden doors and the ancient fans rotate in the tall ceiling. Yet, it’s sweltering. I tie up my hair away from my neck and undo another button of my dress. Still, I’m hot, and I scratch at my skin as I serve cool drinks and ice creams to hyper children and their weary parents in the cafe.
In the rare quiet moments, I sneak opportunities to open the freezer door and stand in the escaping cool air, letting it wash over my burning cheeks. I fantasise of standing under a cold shower back at my dormitory.
I’m nearing the end of my shift, thoroughly sticky and uncomfortable, when that prickle skates across my skin. I freeze, rolling my shoulders. It’s that familiar sensation. The one of being watched. Just like in the library all those months ago.
I swing my head around, searching for the observer, but as always, there’s no one there. I sniff the air instead, but all I smell is the heady pollen of late spring and the intermingling of a hundred different scents. I roll my shoulders again and shift my attention back to the queue of eager children.
The sensation doesn’t go away. Not for the rest of my shift or when it’s finally time to close, and I hang up my apron and splash my face with cold water. Even when I step out into the warm air, I still feel those eyes on me. Violent and possessive. I shudder. I must be imagining things. There is no one there.
The streets are full of people out enjoying the sunshine and the heat. The tables outside the pubs heave, and there isn’t a green space left to sit on in the park.
It’s oppressive; the heat, the people, the eyes watching me. I turn down the backstreets and out to the quiet paths that run along the back of the houses.
Instantly, I regret it. I’m being followed. I can feel it in my blood and in my bones. And the omega inside me knows it too. She’s flitty, nervous, scared. She wants me to run. But I won’t be controlled by my designation.
I stumble on. Concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other. I’m sweltering now, despite the shelter of the trees, and my mouth screams for water. My head is giddy and my vision swims.
Then, I catch a whiff of scent on the warm breeze. Alpha. My head snaps around, and I see them through the haze. Not one alpha. Two. Walking together. And another further behind.
They call to me, but I snatch my gaze away and pick up my pace.
I don’t understand what’s happening, but I know I need to get away.
It’s hopeless, though. They’re twice as big as me, their stride twice as long, and they’ve caught me in a matter of minutes.
One reaches out and grabs my arm and I close my eyes.
So dizzy. So hot. So thirsty.
My stomach cramps and I double over with a moan.
The three alphas circling me growl together,and I want to scream, but my mouth is too dry.
And then I know he’s here. That scent curling into my mouth. And I sob with relief for no logical reason. He won’t help me. He won’t care.
“Rosie, stand up,” he demands, and I realise I’ve slumped to the ground. I stagger up to my feet, the pain in my stomach making every movement agony.
His hand closes tightly around my shoulder and I peer up into the steely eyes of Seb.
“This is my omega,” he says.
“We found her first,” one of the alphas says, his voice rich with aggression.
“I don’t give a fuck what you think. This omega belongs to my pack. If any of you have laid your dirty paws on her, I’ll snap your fucking necks.”
Seb’s whole body radiates violence and anger. I quiver beside him and even the other alphas seem less dangerous than they did minutes ago. They outnumber Seb, but he towers above them.
Still, the three unfamiliar alphas aren’t backing off that easily.
“There’re more of us than you, man,” another says with a crooked smile that he aims at me.
Seb ducks his head down to stare straight into the man’s eyes, his grip on my arm so tight it hurts. “And do you know who I am, dickhead? Do you know who my pack is?”
