Page 10 of Happy Birthday, Omega
“I think those same instincts triggered my presentation as an Alpha. When your family reacted coldly to your new designation, it tore me up. All I wanted was to comfort you and protect you. An Alpha’s instinct to protect his Omega is strong.”
She bites her lower lip as he steps closer, invading her personal space. He smells so good, unlike anything that a candle or cologne could replicate. His natural Alpha musk mixed with fresh pine and a hint of the chalk he uses when rock-climbing. It’s pure, distilled eau de Bryce.
She wants to bury her face in his neck and inhale deeply, to fill her lungs with his scent. She wants to lose herself in the memories that his smell brings back. But she knows that it’s not just the scent that draws her to him; it’s the person behind it, the one who makes her feel alive and seen.
His proximity is doing unholy things to her body, and she needs to put space between them before things spiral out of control. She spins and strolls to the other side of the entryway.
Bryce stalks after her, like he’s hunting fleeing prey.
“I understood what it was like for your family to abandon you when you needed them most. You were facing a scary new future, but they treated you like a stranger because you weren’t what they expected,” he says, speaking with forced restraint.
His large hands glide over her shoulders and gently turns her to face him, a shiver runs through her at the simple touch. She gazes up at his sincere expression and almost flinches at the intensity staring back.
“I remember thinking that you deserved to be called Omega with love, not derision. You’d only ever heard that word, that label, used as a negative thing to describe you. So I wrote a birthday card to you as an Omega.”
A prickle stings the corner of her eyes. She remembers how alone she’d felt and how special that first card had been. It remains in the top drawer of her bedside table, a source of comfort when she needs to be reminded of her value.
“It was the first time being called an Omega felt right.”
Looking upwards, April takes in the large oil painting looming over the entrance hall. The portrait depicts a handsome family, but no one is smiling. The father is an Alpha, the mother an Omega, and little Bryce is wedged in front of them like a trophy.
“They were miserable together,” he says, following her gaze. “Matched by the academy and they never grew to love each other.”
“How long has it been since you’ve seen them?” She asks softly.
He shrugs, eyes fixed on the portrait of his broken family. “Mother is somewhere on a yacht in the Aegean Sea, and Father works part-time managing our family investments. He’ll mentor me to take over the family business once I graduate from the academy, but neither of them will come back to this house. If I want to see my family, I have to get on a plane.”
April looks away from the captured misery of a failed family and watches the broody Alpha at her side. His features are drawn and lost in the past.
“Bryce,” she says, her features softening. “I don’t think this house will be empty for much longer.”
“No?”
She smiles sweetly back at him, biting her lip coyly and shaking her head.
“And what could you mean by that, Omega?” He asks, his melancholy melting away and a smirk slipping into place.
“It means that you’re going to have to find some space in this enormous house for an Omega who loves you.”
He sucks in a sharp breath, the air whistling through his teeth, his eyes searching her own for a lie.
She smiles, reaches forward and smooths the collar of his crisp buttoned shirt. It’s an excuse to touch him, and not a very veiled one at that.
“I’ve thought about you ever since you sent me that theater ticket for my birthday. I didn’t expect to see you there, and I certainly didn’t expect to be attracted to you. It scared and excited me. You had become an Alpha, and you smelled like mine.”
“Omega,” he says on a groan, his voice gravelly and strained. He leans into her touch and licks his lips. “Your scent drives me insane. I’m hard around you constantly.”
Her breath catches.
Bryce’s head draws back quickly and his eyes widen.
“Damn, sorry April. You make my head spin and the words just tumbled out.”
Her academy training tells her she should be offended. She’s out of her depth, never having flirted with another, let alone a virile Alpha. Yet, her Omega instincts are screaming and she decides to listen to them for once.
Fighting her insecurities, she peeks up at him shyly.
“It’s okay, you make my head fuzzy too. And...” She takes a deep breath, “I’m always dripping slick around you.”
