Page 92 of Feral Alphas

She grabs my head and hugs me against her stomach, and my cock stirs at the scent coming off her body. My omega is happy. As I pull away, I detect a hint of something sour in the scent, but she’s grinning, so I shrug it off.

“Do you like wine?” I ask as the hostess brings the chilled bottle out and offers it to me to inspect. After checking it, I taste test and nod my approval.

“I’ve never had white before,” Rose says, leaning across the table to look at the bottle. “The nurses always said I couldn’t mix alcohol with my medications, but they were probably lying.” She huffs sadly and rests her elbows on her cutlery, flipping the fork onto the floor. “Oh, no! Sorry!” She lunges for it, but the hostess beats her.

“I’ll get you a new one, ma’am.”

“Um, thanks.” Rose blushes prettily and I imagine myself kissing those blushes off her cheeks when she’s naked.

“Try a bit then,” I offer as I pour a splash into her glass.

She tastes it and smacks her lips. “I like!”

Chuckling, I pour us both half a glass. I’d be surprised if there was anyone who didn’t like a ’62 vintage. It was a good year for the grape industry.

Rose looks around with wide eyes. “I can’t believe how fancy this place is! Do people really come here just to eat?”

“The lower floors are a hotel, so the guests often come here for meals. But anyone can make a reservation.” I wonder what the look on her face would be if I told her my father owns the building and the hotel below. But there’s no point mentioning it when he’s an ass she’ll hopefully never have to meet.

Rose looks uneasy about where to put her hands, resting them gingerly on the edge of the table until our entrée arrives. I lead her through the conversation, trying to discover her likes and dislikes. I’ve learned how to converse with people all my life, but with Rose, I find myself genuinely wanting to know the answers, searching her face for the tiny upticks of her lips on the topics she enjoys and is sure about. Even the little furrow in her brow when she’s uncertain is darling.

When she mentions she enjoys painting, I make a mental note to ask my sister what I should get to set Rose up. We don’t have a studio, but surely an easel would fit in the corner of the living room.

Our food arrives, smelling amazing and looking even better than it smells.

Rose doesn’t like the seafood and despite saying she enjoys the veal she only accepts a few mouthfuls. She bolts down the pasta, and I realize belatedly that’s because it’s familiar to her. Maybe I should have gone with bistro style dining. But the view here and the lack of crowding balance out the scale, I think.

Rose shifts in her seat.

“Everything okay?” I ask, a band of worry tightening around my chest.

She flashes me a smile. “It’s all lovely.”

Still, I feel uneasy as I finish the veal steak, mopping up the rich mushroom sauce. Someone in the kitchen drops a tray, sending metal and glass crashing to the flooring.

A tiny squeak slips from Rose’s quivering lips.

Quickly I get up, knowing I can’t ignore my instincts any longer. “Tell me what’s wrong, Rose?”

“I’m not sure, but there’s a smell I don’t like in here.”

I thought the dampeners were working fine but as I drop my hand on her shoulder I discover she’s shivering. The air overhead blows directly down onto her side of the table, and I curse silently as I shrug out of my dinner jacket and drape it over her shoulders.

The light on the end of the service counter revolves to alert staff that an order is ready and Rose’s body jerks under my hands.

My heart sinks. “Let’s go,” I say, tugging her to her feet.

She whimpers as the elevator goes down and my heart hurts. A couple get on at the tenth floor and I clench my teeth at the wait as her scent fills the elevator, laced with omega distress which is much stronger now.

The man swivels to look at us. “I apologize for approaching, but might the young lady be interested in becoming a haze scent?”

Rose stiffens and I bare my teeth. The man swallows hard and backs up a step. “I mean no disrespect. I’m a perfumer, and I believe the omega’s scent would be extremely popular.” He holds out a card. I snatch it without speaking, too worried about the shivers I feel running through Rose’s fragile body.

Despite trying to get everything perfect, I screwed up this time.

The elevator doors slide open and suddenly we’re assaulted with flashing lights. People fill the lobby, jostling and calling out. Rose screams and drops to crouch at my feet as I gape at the reportersoutside. “Mr Romdine, can you comment on your relationship with the omega?”

Frick! Did my reservation tip someone off?

---