Page 39 of Capturing Their Omega

“Yeah. Your scent is strong. It’s overpowering.”

That’s weird.

“I have never had my pheromones be so strong before,” I point out.

“Yeah. I know. They used to be very faint. Not anymore. I can sense them clearly, and they’re getting to my head.” He growls the last part.

My middle tingles with in excitement. I feel my wetness flooding as my cheeks go red. Jeremiah growls and sniffs my hair.

My pheromones are causing us to lose our minds. I can bear its effect, as I’m the source. But I am not pleased that Jeremiah is straining himself because of me. Even though his reactions excite me.

“I am sorry,” I mutter to him.

“Don’t be silly. You have nothing to be sorry about,” he says. “We just need to get you inside quickly. You being outside will attract attention.” He holds me tighter, but not enough to suffocate me, as he increases his pace.

“But there is nobody here,” I counter.

“Still,” comes his brief reply.

I keep quiet and go with the flow.

We are still walking down the path to my house, and I peek over Jeremiah’s shoulder to see Eric. He is following behind us, his face stoic, with my backpack hanging off his left shoulder.

I wave weakly at him. He sees it and waves back. His expression lightens up a bit.

That’s more like it, I think, and I lay my head back on Jeremiah’s chest.

I inhale his scent. It intoxicates me and increases my wetness.

What am I going to do with myself?

“I love your scent. I used to sense it before, but it’s stronger now,” I mutter into his chest.

I frown when he doesn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t hear me.

We get to my house, and he immediately knocks on the door.

My heart jumps at the sound. I am closer to finding out the truth, and it scares me. I don’t know what I will do if my mother isreally at fault. If it is not a mistake on her part. If she has been intentionally feeding me poison.

“What do I smell like to you?” Jeremiah asks slowly, dragging me out of my near-panic.

So, he heard me after all. “Coffee. You smell like coffee,” I reply.

He smiles down at me. “Good. I hope you like coffee,” he says.

Before I can reply to that, the door opens and my mom appears.

She sees me immediately in Jeremiah’s arms and gushes. “Cassie, oh my baby! I have been worried sick!” she cries, happy and relieved to see me as if she has been expecting the worst. “Oh my God! I’m so glad you are okay.”

She reaches to touch me, but I flinch away.

Jeremiah notices and steps back.

I watch as sadness immediately spreads across my mom’s facial features. For a minute, I feel bad, but I remember the pain she has made me go through all this time and steel my resolve.

I have every right to be angry.

“Let’s go inside,” Jeremiah orders.

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