Page 5 of Defiant Beta

Luckily, an omega’s heat happens about every three months, and not only is it when she’s most fertile, but it lasts nearly a week. It’s why heat clinics—safe, air-controlled spaces—exist, so they don’t trigger every alpha within a five-mile radius.

That is absolutelynotwhat is happening to me.

Everyone is looking at me, their noses twitching as the perfume soaks through the towels I’m cradling against my chest.

I sneeze three times as I back up. "Uh, just heading to the nest pods. Be right back."

The nest pods, glamping-style cabins, where omegas can ride out their heat in comfort and relaxation, sit next to the lake on campus, a few feet away from the tennis courts.

You can get suppressants from the nurse, but she rarely dishes them out. Haven Academy wants their omegas drug-free, obedient, and primed for their alpha.

“But I—” The door slams shut between us, cutting River off.

I sprint from the cottage as if my life depends on it, because it does. It’s not a crime to pretend to be an omega. At least, I don’t think it is. But it sure as heck is a crime for me to create a fake ID and get myself enrolled in a college reserved for omegas.

I cling to the shadows of the buildings as the scent of perfume intensifies. The best place to dispose of evidence that I don’t belong is the kitchen in the dining hall, where they have an incinerator for waste.

If I leave this broken perfume bottle anywhere else, a cleaner is liable to find it, wonder about it, and maybe even take it to Ms. Arkwright, the head of school. Then I’d have serious problems.

I duck past the clock tower and slam to a halt feet from the dining hall as a man emerges from the wellness center. He’s buttoning up a white shirt that clings to strong, muscled shoulders, and he did not spend nearly enough time drying off before dressing.

His short, dark hair is damp, and his shirt is slightly see-through.

“It’s like the beginning of a sex dream,” I whisper.

His head jerks up. Steel-gray eyes lance me on the spot.

For one long second, he stares at me.

Then his nostrils flare, those wolf-like gray eyes narrow, and he prowls toward me.

Now would be a good time to run.

But do I?

I cling to my towel like it’s the only thing keeping me on my feet as Mr. Sex On Legs stalks toward me.

At the last possible second, I back up, bumping against the wall.

Then he’s there, a rumbling growl vibrating from his chest as he presses his nose to my throat.

He smells of raspberry and dark chocolate, a little sharp, slightly sweet, and utterly gorgeous. I’m not an omega to be so sensitive to alpha pheromones, but damn if this guy doesn’t smell sexy as hell.

I squeak as he clasps my right hip with one large hand and drags my body flush against his harder one.

“Omega,” he growls with such desperate hunger that I lock my knees together as my muscles soften and my insides turn liquid with need.

What. Is.Happening?

A door creaks open somewhere to the right, and the alpha lifts his head slightly.

I take advantage, slipping around him as I stutter, “Uh, I h-have to go. Heat. My perfume is… perfuming.”

Without waiting for a response, I take off at a sprint.

I’d hoped to dispose of my secret in the kitchen incinerator.

That won’t happen now. I need to get as far away from this alpha before his touch fries my brain again.

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