Page 18 of Hard Knot

The scent I've been trying to ignore since I first caught it in the auditorium.

Holy hell.

Since the very beginning of my audition, this scent has been antagonizing me. I’m not annoyed by the aroma because it stinks. This is quite the opposite.

The scent is fucking delicious. So divine to my nostrils, I could smell it forever.

It's stronger now, more concentrated in the enclosed space. Like walking into a high-end bakery on a cold morning — the kind that specializes in those fancy French pastries that cost more than my weekly food allowance at Hard Knot.

Warm vanilla and butter, but not sickeningly sweet. There's something darker underneath, a scent that reminds me of aged whiskey and expensive cigars. And threading through it all, a hint of cinnamon that makes my mouth water.

The combination is intoxicating.

Masculine but not aggressively so.

Refined yet with an edge of danger that makes my pulse quicken.

"What the actual hell," I breathe, trying to clear my head. It’s honestly dizzy inducing, which isn’t good for me because with how exhausted my body is, I’d certainly pass out, and there’s no way I’m waking up to a bunch of bitchy Omegas who will ensure I never live it down for losing consciousness in their territory. "Who combines perfume like that?"

"Could be cologne," a deep voice answers, the sound rolling through the room like distant thunder.

It’s only now that I realize, I’m no longer alone.

Unexpected Temptation

~ELIZABETH~

My head snaps up, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.

The culprit of that low rumble of a voice belongs to someone I’ve never seen in the entire five years I’ve been here at Hard Knot Academy.

He's leaning against the lockers like he owns them; like he owns the whole damn room.Hell, he could own this entire establishment for all I care.He screams dominance and power in one look.

His uniform —the same ridiculous blazer and tie combination they force on all the students— somehow looks different on him.

Dangerous. Like putting a collar on a wolf and calling it tame.

Alpha.

Every cell in my body recognizes it,responds to it, even as my mind catalogs the details.

His hair is a dark copper, artfully messy in a way that probably took an hour to perfect, with hints of darker roots that suggest the color might be enhanced. Not that I'm judging — my own platinum blonde comes from a bottle these days. Eitherway, it’s a shade that compliments his peachy complexion that’s surprisingly flawless like some sort of model.

I’ve never seen a man who projects intense masculinity and yet also embodies a hint of softness in his features that makes him look worthy of being plastered in magazines everywhere.

I’m not sure how to explain it, but his attractiveness would make all the Omegas on campus go gaga over him. I can tell despite the short interaction we’ve acquired in this minute of staring that he has a playboy appearance.

Could be the way he’s leaning against the lockers, with his hands deep in those pockets, and that smug look along those dangerously smooth lips of his. Or maybe it’s his entire vibe that gives off a casual dominance like he’s very aware of how he can control this situation with a snap of his fingers.

Hell, maybe he could. He’s an Alpha after all. They’re all cocky knowing they have the power to ruin us Omegas without even trying.

But it's his eyes that catch and hold me.

They're hazel, but that's like calling a sunset orange. The brown is rich and deep, shot through with fragments of amber and gold that seem to catch the fluorescent light.

They're studying me with an intensity that should make me uncomfortable.

Instead, it makes me feelseen.

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