Page 11 of Knight Life In Vegas

Hadn’t I suffered enough for one lifetime?

An alpha scent clung to her, too: orange liqueur and clove. There wasn’t a bond bite to be seen on her, and no indication that the alpha who had left that scent on her was here. Nothing in the air matched it besides her dress.

My wine glass shattered in my fingers, sending everyone around me leaping back as pain sliced through my hand.

“Shit.” My son held up his hands. “No one move. I’ll get a broom.”

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” Charlotte reached for me, but I drew my hand sharply away.

Charlotte gave me a dubious look, picking up the child who had run into me and spilled wine all over my freshly pressed suit. The wine was all over him as well, no doubt soaking into her dress as she held him. The boy buried his face against her, unwilling to meet my gaze.

I stood frozen, unable to move or speak until Bryce’s return. I let him sweep around my feet before taking a hasty step back and heading to the kitchen to wash my hands.

My breath was shaking as I turned on the tap, my heart pounding a mile a minute.

Multiple scent matches weren’t common. For alphas, anyway. Omegas tended to match to an entire pack, but as a general rule, alphas only matched to one omega in their lifetime, assuming they were lucky enough to find them to begin with. I had already found and lost my omega, and it had destroyed me. I couldn’t,wouldn’ttake that risk again.

Jesse, one of my son’s pack who worked as a paramedic, followed me into the kitchen and helped me pluck a shard of glass from my skin before bandaging me up.

“Are you doing all right?” Jesse asked.

“Jet lag,” I said gruffly. A lie. I’d have preferred any excuse besides fate thinking it was funny to offer me a second chance at destruction. The only blessing was that Charlotte wouldn’t know I was her scent match with blockers hiding that from her. I couldn’t stand to look her in the eye right now with that knowledge hanging between us.

“The kids get rambunctious, sorry.”

“The children are fine.” I hissed when Jesse checked the binding wasn’t too tight. “Bryce spilled something all over me ten times a week when he was that small. Too much energy and not enough coordination.”

Jesse laughed. “You’re not wrong about that. Do you have any fresh clothing with you, or should we see what we can find upstairs?”

“My clothes are at the hotel.” They had offered to let me stay at the pack house, but I hadn’t earned my place there yet. I’d behaved like an absolute ass when my son had bonded into this pack, letting my grief and fear run roughshod over me. I had apologized, and they had accepted, but keeping this small bit of distance seemed far safer for everyone.

“Did you want to borrow something, or would you rather leave?”

I wouldn’t be able to behave normally with that woman here, and even though I didn’twantto leave, I wasn’t certain what other option I had.

“I should leave. I’m not feeling very well.”

Jesse eyed me speculatively. “You came all this way and you’re leaving after a few minutes?”

“Being unwell puts me in a terrible mood. I don’t want to risk taking that out on anyone. Perhaps the wine is a sign I shouldn’t have come at all.”

“I feel like you’re not being entirely honest, but I’m not going to push you. Bryce probably won’t take kindly to you leaving this quickly, though.”

“I’ll give him my apologies.”

Jesse very obviously wanted to say something to me, but instead he sighed and nodded.

The small boy who had run into me did the exact same as I stepped out of the kitchen. He looked up at me with enormous saucer eyes filled with tears, his lip wobbling. God help me, I almost drowned under a tsunami of memories of my own son at that age, looking at me just the same. Shit. I shouldn’t have come here. I wasn’t ready. A lifetime of pain hovered between my son and me, and I had no idea how to go about unraveling it to make up for what I had put him through.

“Are you leaving?” the boy asked.

“I have to go get new clothes,” I stated calmly, though I felt the opposite.

“I’m sorry.” A tear slipped over his cheek and I found myself sinking to bring myself to his eye level.

“Mistakes happen.”

“Are you mad at me? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

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