Page 23 of Heat Hesitation

"My friend. My brother," she elaborates.

The man doesn't react, but I point out, "You don't smell related." He's got a leather and oil scent, more industrial. Family members don't smell exactly alike, but there are similarities.

"In name. He's my family," she insists, and the crack in her voice, her distress, has me stepping back. I try to take her into my arms but she steps away, shrugging me off, not letting me comfort her.

Ophelia's omega whimper is physically painful to hear, but I don't want to push her, so I step further into the living room to give us all some breathing room. Her shoulders relax, telling me I did the right thing, though Enzo's still keyed up.

"I'm sorry about your coffee table. I'll replace it," I tell her, trying to break the tension.

"With money, you can replace anything, right?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she says tiredly, turning to Red. "I'm fine, Red. Thank you for checking on me."

Red glances at us. "And them?"

"They…" I expect her to dismiss us, to play our connection off like it's nothing. Instead, she's sad, and I want to wipe that expression off her face. I want to know why it's there in the first place. "They're my scent-match. Asher and Enzo. Constantine."

"Holy shit." The guy looks at me under a new light before collapsing on the couch. I like to think that if he were a lover—though I can't entertain the thought because the very idea makes me ragey—if he were a lover, he'd be more upset by this news. Instead, he just seems shocked. Why didn't she tell him we've met if they're so close?

Something passes his expression, though, some kind of understanding, and he looks up at Ophelia compassionately. "I'm sorry, Phe."

"What the fuck are you sorry for?" I snarl.

"If you're asking that, it means you don't know our girl at all." He climbs to a stand and attempts to wrap her in a hug, but my and Enzo's alphas growl so deep and loud that he pauses. She smiles sadly, getting that he can't hug her right now. Not while she's unbonded, not while we're standing right here.

"I'm good, Red. You should go."

"I don't know…"

Enzo and I wait, immobile. He realizes we're not leaving and confirms, "You sure? You're okay?" He looks back at me.

"She's safe with me. Always."

Red laughs. "A Constantine, huh? You really do nothing by halves, Ophelia." And with that, he slips out, but not before telling her to call him later. She agrees, clicking the door shut behind him.

It takes coaxing from me and Ophelia to get Enzo out of the apartment. There's a lot our omega isn't telling us, but we're getting a better picture of her, and it's clear she needs space right now. I thought when an omega was sad, they wanted their alphas to make the pain go away. Her reactions are confusing, but I'm not an idiot; she's still human, despite the pedestal I've shoved her up on, and her asking us to give her space for the night needs to be respected.

Enzo refuses to leave her building, though, so I stay with him until Sully shows up a few hours later.

Chapter 10

Ophelia

The days that pass are exhausting and filled with tension—both sexual and the other kind. The kind that has me dying to spill all my worries and fears to the patient alphas who confuse the shit out of me.

They've been walking me to and from work with less and less commentary about my neighborhood, though Sully can't help but brush his shoulders or fidget with his sleeves when he spends more than five minutes in my building. The comments about my employment haven't stopped, but they're getting a clearer picture of the club, or at least my relationship with Red, and it helps curtail some of their more considerable judgments.

They've been thoughtful and kind—three of them anyway, since I haven't seen or spoken to Theo since we met at the gala while he was dancing with another woman.

Fantasizing about what it would be like to give in to them and then getting mad at myself for even considering it takes up whatever bit of mental energy I have in my reserves. It's a daily war inside my head, and however patient the guys are, they can see my inner turmoil and seem to be fighting with their own alphas to try to fix the problem.

After what the OFA and the Olcene Pack—just another high-society, wealthy alpha pack—did to my sister, to my family, there's nothing left for them to fix.

I think the guys assumed my initial hesitance toward them was because of the newspaper articles and that Enzo's explanation was enough to make things right between us.

Though I admit it helped, I can't get past their status. Mel caught Asher at my apartment the other night after he dropped me off, and I finally told her everything. She accused me of judging them just as harshly as the world judges me for my designation as an omega. I hate that she might be right.

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