Page 35 of Where There's Smoke
Chuckling, I fucking beamed. “I’ll say you did, and damn well too. Congrats, firecracker.”
Chapter 17
Melody
Oh shit, I am an omega.
Pack Wilder was right. Fitz, Samson, and Elliot were right. I was anomega.
Fitz had knotted me, and I had taken that knot like my body was meant for it. Hell, itfeltlike my body was made for it, like it craved it the same way it did oxygen.
How was I an omega? There were none in my family. Usually, omegas were related tootheromegas, or at least alphas. Sure, the odd anomaly popped up, but it was rare. About as much as an omega presenting this late.
I was many things—independent, stubborn, an animal person—but I wasn’t rare… was I?
“Firecracker, you’re looking a little pale,” Fitz said cautiously. “Are you all right? Do you need me to?—”
“I’m an omega,” I whispered, my voice broken and scratchy, the weight of reality blanketing me.
A smile spread across his face, and I wasn’t sure I liked the look of it. “Yes, you are,” he proudly declared.
“How did I not know?” I asked, shifting. The movement elicited a whimper from me as the change in position made hisknot press deeper. He wasn’t unaffected, either, judging by the way his arms wrapped around me, keeping me from doing it again.
“It probably happened at the same time as the fire, but you were too distracted to notice. The lack of smell doesn’t really help, either.”
I cocked my head to the side, my cheeks heating as I asked. “Do I…smellgoodto you?”
Somehow his smile got even wider, making me feelverynervous. “Oh, firecracker, you smellamazingto me. Sweet melon, fruity, rich, and downright delicious.”
My brows shot up as my pulse flickered in my temples. “Really?”
“Really.” He nodded, his eyes so genuine. “It’s easily my favorite scent.”
I inhaled deeply. My sense of smell wasn’t dead anymore, but it wasn’t clear, either. Fitz’s smell was dark, maybe a little sweet? I liked what I could distinguish, but it was muted, and I despised that. Getting his proper scent felt like a necessity, something I needed to keep me sane.
“I wish I knew what you smelled like. An omega who can’t smell is adefectiveomega.”
“You’re not defective!” Fitz insisted, brushing hair out of my face and cupping my cheeks, his gaze locked on mine.
“Aren’t I?” I furrowed my brow, shaking my head as my stare went down. “Late presenting, only omega in my family, and I can’t smell right. Something clearly went wrong.”
“Hey”—Fitz grabbed my chin, getting me to look at him, the weight of his stare heavy—“you are not defective. Nothing went wrong. It happens. Plus, you were in a fire. That affects people’s sense of smell. That’s proven. A few weeks and you should be back to normal.”
“But there's a chance it may be permanent?”
Fitz winced. “It's a very small chance. I wouldn't even think about that.”
Sighing, I tried to accept Fitz’s words and move on. But it was hard. I had no idea about any of this, and getting all this new info dumped into my lap was a lot to swallow. Changing the subject felt easier.
“How long until… well, until that thing goes down?” I asked, biting my lip. It wasn’t a bad feeling, quite the opposite, but I was starting to grow concerned about how long we’d been attached. Didn’t Fitz have stuff to do? None of which involved me?
“Thing?” He chuckled. “You mean my knot?”
I nodded, my cheeks on fire.
“Well, it can be anywhere from a few minutes to half an hour, and I have a sneaking suspicion it’s closer to the latter.” He smirked at me.
A wave of nervousness hit me, and I could hear my pulse in my ears. “Why?”
