Page 54 of Want It All
Sebastian didn’t let me go, keeping pace as I hurried towards the door, my mind blank of everything but the alpha’s command. Somewhere inside, I was fuming, but the anger – and conscious thought – was buried so deep I couldn’t touch it. When someone slid in front of me, I didn’t understand what they were doing – the alpha had given me anorder, and they needed to get out of my way – but a gentle hand gripped my shoulder, stopping me.
‘You don’t have to do that, omega.’
There was no bark in Tristan’s voice, just a gentle calm that reset my brain. I stopped resisting – Sebastian paused at the same moment – and we stared at the locked door, at the rattling handle, and then I tipped my chin up to stare at the green-eyed alpha.
Tristan had broken Glynn’s command simply byspeaking.
‘Omega! Come out!’ Glynn roared again, but Tristan simply shook his head.
‘You’re safe here, omega,’ he murmured, and I sighed, becauseof course I was. Who the fuck was going to challenge Tristan Grace?
His hand was a warm, comforting weight on my shoulder. He stroked Sebastian’s cheek with the other. Sebastian was pale, and he leaned into Tristan’s touch as if it was the only thing keeping him upright.
‘I have you,’ Tristan said. I didn’t know which of us he was speaking to, but it didn’t matter. My spine went soft and I lay my head on Sebastian’s shoulder. ‘You’re safe.’
A sharpcracksplit the air, and the door began to splinter.
Tristan brushed a kiss over Sebastian’s brow. ‘Go back under the table, baby,’ he said softly. ‘Keep each other warm.’
I hadn’t realised how cold I was until he said it. It was shock, the after-effect of a bark from a non-bonded alpha. Sebastian was shaking, so when we crawled back beneath the table to the sound of splintered wood hitting the floor, I wrapped myself around him as best I could, straddling his lap so I could link my arms and legs around his back.
An oddpopcame from outside: once, then twice.
Sebastian gave a shuddering exhale. ‘Finally,’ he said hoarsely. ‘That’s a tranquiliser gun.’
‘It’s almost over,’ Tristan murmured. He paced back and forth before the ruined door; light shone through from outside, bringing the scent of eucalyptus. The wood was heavily splintered, even on the inside, and it was impossible to tell whether Glynn had used his fists or something else against it. ‘You’ve been so brave. Both of you. I’m so proud.’
It wasn’t true – I was cowering under a table, for fuck’s sake – but his words gave me a warm glow regardless.
Tristan’s praise was downright dangerous.
Sebastian buried his face in my neck and breathed in. ‘He must have caught your scent in the garden,’ he whispered against my skin. ‘I’m so fucking sorry, Rose.’
‘Seb, it’s not your fault,’ I whispered back. ‘Helost control, not you. It mustn’t have taken much to push him over – my scent would have been diffused when he caught it. If he loses control that easily, then he’s not safeanywhere.’
He made a noncommittal noise.
There was another thud from outside, and someone gave a wordless shout. A few moments later, a knock sounded on the side of the building. ‘Rosemary? Are you in there?’
‘Is the alpha contained?’ Tristan answered sharply.
‘He’s locked in the back of a wagon and headed for the nearest Alpha Retreat,’ the voice responded, and I recognised it as Harry, the groundskeeper.
I disentangled myself from Sebastian, and we crawled out from under the table. I hadn’t cared before, but now the sticky dust on my hands and knees made me feel disgusting. I wanted a hot bath, a blanket, and to drink a chai latte bigger than my head while I watched a trashy TV show.
‘You okay?’ I turned to see Sebastian studying me. He reached to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear with trembling fingers.
I exhaled. ‘I think I need an omega moment.’
Sebastian forced a half-smile. ‘Something warm and something sweet? I think I need a moment like that myself.’
‘Let’s get you both back to the manor,’ Tristan said, and unlocked the splintered door.
A number of staff were outside, waiting. A woman strode towards me. I’d met her once before, but even if I’d never seen her, I’d recognise her stormy eyes, high cheekbones, and plush mouth.
‘Ms. Morris,’ Byron’s mother said, her voice deep and calm, like her son’s. ‘Mr. Worthy. Mr. Grace. Were you hurt?’
I shook my head.
