Page 56 of Feeling the Heat: Part Two
Her eyes shine in that moment of hesitation. “R-River.”
My name from her lips sounds so relieved that I can’t keep myself from going with my instinct, taking her hand and pulling her up into my arms. A ragged purr comes to life in my chest as I run my hands over her back and arms like my alphais making sure she’s not injured, my cheek scent marking her hair to try to get rid of the clinging stench of the alpha from before.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
Camille shakes her head, her fingers gripping the back of my shirt, clinging to me like she’s worried I’ll tell her to let go. It makes my purr grow louder with satisfaction that I’m doing the right thing for my omega.
She wants me here, holding her and keeping her safe. I can feel it in the one-sided bond.
Still, I can’t help asking her, knowing that her instincts don’t always line up with what she’d normally want. “Is this okay?”
Camille pauses mid-scent marking my shoulder, pulling back enough to look up into my face. “Yeah.”
There’s a flicker of something behind her eyes, and god, I try not to use the bond to understand it, but I’m weak when it comes to her. I can’t hide my jolt of surprise when I find that the emotion she’s feeling as she looks at me isn’t wariness or discomfort, but empathy. For me.
This omega, who I’ve hurt deeply and who has just experienced another traumatic event, is looking at me like she wants to help take away my worries. If I weren’t already obsessed with her, there’d be no way to stop that after that revelation.
She’s too good for me, like the rest of the pack. But rather than let that thought make me want to shrink away in shame and inadequacy, it stokes the flame in me to be better for them.
We don’t speak for a long while, holding each other until our breathing evens out. I forget about our surroundings until the sound of someone gently clearing their throat breaks the silence. I clutch Camille tighter, my alpha worried about protecting her from a threat, and look over to see the beta giving us a sheepish smile.
“Sorry, we’ll go!” Camille says, her cheeks flooding with color. “Thank you so much for helping me.”
My defensive posture relaxes at her words, and I release Camille reluctantly as she pulls back to smooth down her shirt and wipe at her tear-stained cheeks. “Yes, thank you,” I rasp, going over to the beta to shake their hand.
“It’s the least I could do,” they say, attempting to shrug off my intense gratitude.
I don’t want to waste their time by arguing that a lot of people wouldn’t have been brave enough to stand up to an aggressive alpha. Instead, I glance around the shop, then back to them.
“Do you work on commission here?” I ask.
They blink at me for a moment, then understanding crosses their face. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary.”
“I know, but I’d like to. If you have a few extra minutes to take measurements, I’d like to order that pink one, that green and white one, and the strappy one in the corner.” I point out the items, even knowing they probably cost more than a month’s rent at my new apartment. An apartment I won’t be needing if things go well, so what better way to spend that money than on my omega and to show gratitude?
Camille’s eyes widen when she realizes what I’m doing. “I hope you’re ordering those for yourself because I don’t need…” Her eyes catch on the green and white floral embroidery on the sheer set beside her, and I swear I catch a hint of her perfume despite her scent blocker.
I shake my head, holding her eyes. “It’s not a matter of need. I want to get them for you.”
She swallows hard, her urge to refuse clearly warring with her omega’s pleasure at the prospect of the gift. “It’s too much.” The flush on her cheeks spreads down her throat.
It takes a moment for my brain to come on boardand realize that offering to buy her lingerie comes with the implication that I’ll want her to wear it for me. Which of course I’d fucking want, but we’re not there yet.
“It’s not to wear for me,” I blurt.
Her brow creases as she frowns at my declaration.
Shit, I’m messing this up.
“I mean, it can be. If you want to. But I know we’re not…that you’re not…I want you to have something beautiful, with no strings or expectations attached. If you don’t want it, I’ll?—”
“Okay,” Camille interrupts, a hint of a smile curving her lips as she watches me sweat and struggle to explain. She places a hand on my arm, and my stomach flutters as she gazes up at me with those deep hazel eyes. “Thank you.”
I get the sense she’s thanking me for more than the expensive gift. She’s probably only agreeing to that to shut me up.
“I’m sorry that?—”
It’s my turn to interrupt her. I shake my head adamantly. “You don’t need to thank me or apologize,” I say, willing her to understand that I’d do anything for her. That I still have so much more I want to do to apologize to her. That I’m not going to run again because I finally got it through my thick skull that it doesn’t matter that I don’t think I’m worthy of being with my pack or her because they’re the ones that get to decide that.
