Page 21 of Fallen Omega

Yeah, it fucking pisses me off.

If she’s a Council trap to hook the Unholy Trinity, it’s not going to work.

We don’t give in to their bullshit. Or any of their little traps they’ve put out over the years.

But fuck, if this girl has been sent here…

I’ll destroy her.

Chapter

Five

Lizette

The man in black is back.

He looks like the very devil himself, just walking the earth. Compelling and hot like the kingdom he rules. Like he’ll drag a girl all the way down into those fiery depths with him.

When he looked at me twenty minutes earlier, a vacuum opened, sucking everything out except me and him, and tendrils of spice and salt, soft earth and the clean and wild scent of a storm.

I shut down, didn’t look, just concentrated on my drink. But now he’s back, and I swear that evocative scent is stronger. I can’t keep the thoughts at bay.

My heart constricts.

It’s him.

From the car.

My insides start a slow melt, but he’s not the alpha to answer to my heat problems. No.

He’s the one who reported me to the Council.

It takes everything, and I mean everything, to stop megoing over and slapping him.

But I don’t think you slap a man like him.

Also, I’ve never slapped someone in my life.

I want to provoke him. Almost as much as I want to run and hide.

He burns into me. This time, I can’t stop looking. His eyes, which might be blue, seem to see into souls. They’re the eyes of a ruler, a leader, a man who takes everything he wants and leaves nothing behind, not even hearts.

I throb low. It’s hot, that throb. Thrills rise with each beat. And my thighs, if I rubbed them, would be wet with desire, right at the juncture.

This…this is something I’ve never in my life experienced. And even if Dad was around, there’s no way I could talk to him about this.

I try to look away, but I can’t. The alpha’s hunger is mesmerizing.

It sets it off in me, too. A deep, craving hunger.

And it doesn’t help that he's gorgeous in a hard, dark way. The beard growing in should look unkempt, but it doesn’t—same with the black hair in serious need of some scissors.

It should diminish the wanting, not make him more compelling.

Not make him like some ancient, pagan god. The devil in his natural habitat.

And the one he’s talking to?

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