Page 32 of Want It All
Byron shook his head. ‘The wind was blowing the wrong way. I don’t think she caught it. Shit, Grace.’ He spiked his hands through his hair once more. ‘Cherries. My mouth is still full of it, and I only caught a hint.’
I went still. ‘Was it complementary?’
My voice was level; I had no idea how I’d managed it. My heart was pounding and I was suddenly covered in cold sweat.
Byron gave an odd half-shrug and my spine went tight. ‘I …’ he started, then trailed off. His blown-out pupils and the strength of his reaction suggested that hedidlike Sebastian’s scent – perhaps even liked ita lot– but I could see his mind working: how did he admit that tomeand walk from this room with his limbs still attached? ‘You’re playing a dangerous game,’ he said instead, darkly. ‘What if it wasn’tmewho scented him? What if he went into heat here? Heat suppressants and scent blockers can be affected by all kinds of things – the flu, antibiotics, hormonal changes, a scent match. My sister –’ he cut himself off abruptly.
I already knew the story. It had taken me a while, but I’d teased out the pieces that made up Byron Griffiths. I was sure there was more to it, but I was confident that I had the bones of him in a folder on my laptop, backed up to the cloud.
I didn’t tell him that, though.Never show your hand, my dad had always told me. My papa would chuckle and elbow him, and my mother would roll her eyes and joke about the kind of children he was raising, but I’d always remembered that advice.
‘For someone who thinks he knows so much about omegas, you seem to be forgetting something fairly basic,’ I said, making my voice as cold as I could. I was irritated that he thought solittle of Sebastian’s choices, and that he thought so little ofme, though I wasn’t sure why I cared. ‘Omegas arepeople. Iknowthis is dangerous. Iknowwe’re taking risks. But if you think for a moment thatImade those choices, that these things weremydecisions, then you need to think again.’
He glared at me. ‘Sebastianlovesyou. It’s so obvious it’s painful. Are you telling me he refused your bite? That he doesn’t want your bond?’
I bristled, because ofcoursethis alpha would hit the sore spot. I knew what Sebastian wanted, and it wasthat, exactly. ‘Do you think that’s all he is?’ I countered. ‘A vessel to be bitten and bonded? Do you think that’s all he’s good for?’
Real anger flashed in his eyes. ‘Of course not. But the world isn’t made for omegas. Sebastian could still do everything he wanted with your bite on his skin. Only he’d besaferdoing it.’
‘Except you can’t take back a bite,’ I snarled. ‘You can’t break a bond. What if he found his scent match tomorrow? Wouldyoutake away his freedom?’
Silence was my answer. We stared at one another, neither of us willing to back down.
‘Isn’t love its own freedom?’ he answered at last.
‘Sebastian isalreadyloved. Already cherished. Already free.’
His expression was troubled, but it wasn’t my job to coddle him through the realisation thatprotectionandloveweren’t synonymous.
I pinned him with my best stare. ‘Will you tell anyone?’
He growled, clearly insulted, but he could hardly blame me for asking; he didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to keeping important things quiet. ‘Of course I won’t,’ he answered, his voice as stiff as his spine.
I nodded and turned to the door, pulling my phone from my pocket. ‘Good. But just in case you think about changing your mind …’ I let the sentence hang, then held up my phone.
His eyes widened in shock before his face settled into an expression of fury that sent a shiver running down my spine. ‘How did you get that?’ he hissed.
‘Does it matter?’ I angled the screen and watched dispassionately as a younger Byron drew back and let his bloody fists loose, pummelling a body on the ground, over and over. ‘Just know it’s not the only thing I have.’ I blacked the phone screen. ‘If you so much asthinkof exposing Sebastian, I’ll release everything.’
I stepped towards the door, but found myself stopped short as his fingers encircled my wrist, his grip firm but not painful. His touch sent another shiver through me. I ignored it, meeting his furious grey stare.
‘You don’t need it,’ he said, his voice calmer. ‘IlikeSebastian. I’d never want to see him hurt.’
I knew he was sincere. I could hear it,feelit. But I didn’t trust him.
Icouldn’ttrust him.
‘Even so,’ I answered, and shook him off.
I left him in the study room and hurried back to Sebastian. But as I unlocked our door, it occurred to me that this new problem might just help solve an existing one.
‘Saythatagain?’Chloedemanded. ‘You, Rosemary Morris, my best friend, went to the beach withthe son of Carwyn Griffiths?’
I winced. ‘Fuck, Clo, I don’t think they heard you in Tasmania.’
‘Sorry,’ she said, unfazed and entirely unapologetic. ‘Can you get me a signed bookplate?’
I laughed. ‘You’re impossible.’
