Page 147 of Captive Omega

Sleeping usually involves a wrestle with my sheets.

Maybe it’s alphas I’m fighting in my nightmares, I don’t know. I rarely remember what I dream about.

I either can’t sleep at all, or I kick all the sheets off me and wake shivering.

Not this morning.

I never wake well-rested, and I never wake with the sheets tucked up to my chin.

I’m mid-stretch, my jaw cracking, when I spot the empty glass beside my bed.

I freeze.

Because that glass? I did not put it there. The bottle of water that I use to take my vitamins and iron each morning, yes. That glass tells me someone was in my room.

I carefully look around me as I mentally process how I feel. Do I feel different, like after my heat and an alpha had?—

No. Not today, Resa. You are not thinking of that today.

I’m half out of bed when a familiar scent hits me: pine, sandalwood and vanilla.

A surprising scent given it belongs to an alpha who has likes to keep to himself.

Blaine.

His scent is faint, probably hours old. But I smell it and I know what it means.

He was here in my room as I slept.

My gaze settles on the knife I keep beside my bottle of water and prenatal vitamins.

If there was ever a stabbing situation, this would be it.

Downstairs, no one is in sight.

I feel awkward in a black fitted sleeveless shift dress that hits my knees. Another addition to my closet that appeared without any prompting.

The quilted flat ballet pumps I stepped into came with a price tag so high I winced and tried not to notice it. I never wore designer clothing before. That wasn’t in the budget of a real estate assistant who apparently needed to be micromanaged.

Did it make sense to shower and dress first beforehand? No.

Can I envision stabbing Blaine for sneaking into my room as I slept? Also no.

But a line has been crossed.

What kind of person would I be if I stood for a guy sneaking into my room as I slept?

Not just my room, but omega territory. Supposedly an alpha-free space.

So I stalk down the stairs, knife in my hand, following the murmur of male voices to a door I’ve only entered twice before.

The meeting room.

I don’t bother knocking.

I twist the handle and shove the door open. The first person I spot is Blaine at the table and my eyes narrow. “You?—”

“Resa? Is everything okay?” Garrison interrupts.

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