Page 22 of Cursed Love

I scowl, crossing my arms over my chest. “That’s not going to happen.”

Amel just laughs, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. “Keep telling yourself that,” he says, patting my shoulder as he pushes off the counter. “But don’t be surprised when you catch yourself sniffing their hoodies later.”

I open my mouth to argue, but the words die on my tongue. Because deep down, a small, irritatingly honest part of me knows he might be right.

Koa

Amel was right. I’m pissed that neither Hunter, nor Moses smell like me, which is why I’m currently rubbing my face in Moses’ shirt as we head to my house. He laughs, running a gentle hand down my back as I curl up tighter in his lap. “Sweetheart, are you trying to mark me?”

“You don’t smell like me. This Omega stuff is bullshit. Why do I care if you smell like me?”

“Why did you tell me to take a shower, then?”

I grimace, pausing my efforts to rub my scent all over this man and then continue. “You were sweaty.” My Omega is trying to tellme that she likes our men sweaty but I’m not entertaining those thoughts right now.

“Why do I feel like you would have enjoyed that?” Moses purrs, his hands settling on my waist, fingers playing with the extra skin there. When they dig in just slightly, a gasp falls from my lips in response, my scent spiking ever so slightly.

“Not the point!” I whisper-yell.

We fall into a comfortable silence as I twist around in Moses’ lap, playing with his large hand, threading my fingers through his. They’re so much larger than mine. His palms are calloused, rough from years of work, but his touch is gentle, patient. It’s nice. Really nice.

I don’t even know how I ended up here, how I trusted them so easily. But there’s a quiet kind of safety in the way they’ve moved around me all morning. Moses presses a soft kiss to my forehead, the heat of it lingering as he murmurs, “You seem so new to all of this.”

I tilt my head up, meeting his hazel eyes but there’s no judgment in them. Just curiosity, like he’s genuinely trying to understand me. I let out a soft sigh, my fingers stilling against his as I think about how to explain it.

“I’ve been on blockers since I was twenty-two,” I finally push out. “Heat blockers. Scent blockers. Anything to keep the instincts at bay.”

Moses’ brows furrow, his lips pressing into a thin line as he processes my words. “Why?”

I shrug, my gaze dropping back to our hands, my fingers starting to trace the lines of his palm. “It just… made things easier,” I admit. “It felt better repressing all those instincts and I got used to it. I got used to basically living like a Beta.” I pause, a bitter laugh escaping me. “Even though I was still treated like an Omega.”

Hunter twists around in the front seat, his blue eyes wide with disbelief as he stares at me. “Wait,” he says, his voice laced with concern. “You haven’t had a heat since then? Foreight years?”

My stomach twists and I let out a slow sigh, nodding as I curl tighter into Moses’ chest. The warmth of his arms is the only thing keeping me grounded, but even that can’t stop the tremble that starts to run through me as the memories begin to filter through my mind. Memories I’ve worked so hard to bury. “Yeah,” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Not since then. I didn’t want to after everything that happened.”

The tension in the car thickens, Hunter’s easy grin wiped away, replaced with something darker. His hands clench into fists as he leans back, his jaw tightening like he’s holding himself back from saying what’s really on his mind.

Moses’ arms tighten around me, his grip protective as his chest rumbles with a low growl. It vibrates against my back, and even though it’s not directed at me, it makes me feel small, vulnerable. I try to pull away, but his arms only tighten further, holding me in place.

Amel’s voice cuts through the heavy silence. “What do you mean by that, Koa?” he asks, his gaze catching mine in the rearview mirror. “You mentioned something similar this morning. What happened?”

I suck in a shaky breath, my heart pounding as I try to find the words. The car feels too small, the air too thick, and I press my face into Moses’ chest, like I can hide from the weight of Amel’s question. But I can’t. The memories are already there, clawing at the edges of my mind, and I know there’s no escaping them now. “My first heat was... a disaster,” I say, my voice trembling. “Everything was dark, and I was confused, and I didn’t know what was happening to me. This Alpha... he promised to help me through it. He said I could trust him.”

I pause, my breath hitching, and Moses’ growl deepens, a low, dangerous sound that makes my skin prickle. His arms tighten even more, like he’s trying to shield me from something, but it’s too late. The memories are already spilling out, one after another, no matter how hard I try to push them back.

“But it didn’t happen that way,” I continue, my voice breaking. “He didn’t help me. He... and his friends…” My throat tightens, the words catching, and I shake my head, burying my face deeper into Moses’ chest. “I didn’t want to just be fodder for someone, or—or a hole to fuck. That’s all I felt like after that. That’s all he—they—made me feel like.”

The car goes deathly quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the engine and my shaky breathing. I can feel all three of them tensing around me, their anger simmering just beneath the surface, their scents so thick I feel like I’m suffocating.

Moses’ growl returns, turning into a low, guttural sound, and I flinch, trying to pull away from him. “Don’t,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Don’t do that. Don’t get mad. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Like hell, it doesn’t,” Moses growls. His arms tighten and I feel him shift slightly, like he’s barely holding himself back.

“Stop,” I say, my voice rising, my hands pushing weakly at his chest. “Please, just stop—”

Amel swerves suddenly, the tires screeching as the car jerks to the side of the road. My breath catches, and the next thing I know, we’re at a complete stop. Then the back door slides open, a panicked squeal tearing from my throat as Amel reaches in and gently extracts me from Moses’ arms.

The safety of his hold is replaced by Amel’s solid frame, his hands steady as they guide me to stand on the gravel. My legs feel shaky, my heart pounding against my ribs like it’s trying to escape.

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