Page 10 of Stolen Omega

I seriously need to pull myself together, in another room.

I’ll take a shower. I might have already showered in the dressing room, but it’s warm tonight so a refresh doesn’t seem over the top.

Yeah. That’s totally not suspicious.

It’s better than standing here in front of him as if I’m really seeing him for the first time.

He closes the lid on the transport box and moves over to the lamp table by the side of the couch where the phone is sitting in its cradle under the soft light from the lamp.

He turns back to me as he reaches for the receiver, watching me with an unreadable expression on his face. I’m in too much shock to pick up on what he’s feeling, too consumed by my own feelings.

I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner. It’s so obvious.

Friends don’t treat you like you’re their mate. That’s what he’s been doing.

It’s what’s been attracting me to him so strongly, as a potential mate.

I can’t believe I thought I was crushing on him.

This is way more serious than a crush.

“Any preferences?” he asks, as he picks up the phone.

I shake my head, not able to think about it. “Surprise me.”

It takes a second to move once he’s dialing the room service number. I can’t help but watch, my gaze fixed on the lines of his body. An intense feeling of desire washes over me, and I freeze in place as the first soft hint of something sweet scents the air.

Oh my God. My perfume!

It’s coming in, for him.

He turns slightly in my direction, and I bolt into the bathroom.

I close the door and lock it with trembling fingers.

No. This can’t be happening.

I don’t want to go into heat.

If I could choose my mate, I’d choose him, but I know that won’t be allowed to happen.

I signed away my right to choose a mate when I put my name on the record company’s contract.

That legal document makes it crystal clear that I’ve agreed to be sent home when I go into heat, where heat mates will be chosen for me, by my parents.

Those ‘mates’ won’t be permanent.

I’m not permitted to make any life changing choices while I’m under contract, so every single time I go through a heat, I’ll have to repeat the same process of returning home where I’ll be matched up with men who aren’t interested in anything more than sating their urges to rut with an Omega.

Being forced to go home where I’ll be introduced to the kind of fuckboy Alphas that treat Omega academies like their own personal brothels is the very last thing I’d ever want.

Thinking about it makes my stomach churn and my hands curl into fists.

I’ll do whatever it takes to avoid that outcome.

Hiding my perfume would be a good start.

Sighing, I lean back against the door.

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