Page 89 of Isla

“You are pack, Isla. We look after each other, and we look out for each other. I came here looking for you with a plan to ask you to be mine and prepared to walk away from my pack for you.”

“You would do that?” I whispered. My head lifted to see his eyes.

He nodded. “If our omega can’t bring us together as a pack. If one of us couldn’t see you were ours. Or if one of us harmed you. It was enough for me to walk away.”

“But you don’t want to,” I stated.

He shook his head. “And I know you don’t want that either.”

I slowly shook my head and swallowed.

I wanted him so much, so it was painful knowing what I was about to tell him. I was about to give him his last chance to back out.

But I had to be honest—I had to let him know.

“I’ve got something to tell you. It’s about my heat.” I hesitated for a moment, and he raised from lapping my shoulder and stared at me.

My eyes squeezed shut as I tried to hold back the tears.

“Look at me, Isla,” he purred as his fingers stroked over my cheek. I shook my head. He grabbed my arms, holding them tight. “Omega, look at me,” he barked.

My eyes shot open at his change of tone.

Did he think I was pregnant?

That was worse than what I had to tell him.

“Let me go.” My voice was forceful for an omega against an alpha.

He didn’t hesitate. “No.”

I struggled, pulling my arms away from him. “Let me go, Harrison.”

Panic twisted in my chest, and I had to get out of his embrace and do the right thing. Not only for me, but for his pack.

“I can’t give you what you’re asking. It’s not something I can do.”

“Why?” His voice demands.

“I’m just not... because I didn’t...” I pushed out a large exhale.

His grip tightened along with the muscle in his jaw.

“I don’t work properly anymore. My heat fizzled away. I didn’t go into my heat.” I exhaled and closed my eyes. “I’m not a good omega.”

He hesitated as he glanced at the ceiling, and I knew his thoughts floated in a sea of doubt. He lowered his gaze and stared at me for too long as his eyes drifted back and forth across my face.

“Isla, you’re ours. You know it.”

Trouble was—I did.

I just wished he hadn’t hesitated and shown me his doubt.

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