Page 28 of Sweetheart: Part One

A few times, I’d almost gone on dates with lone alphas, scouting for a pack I'd never have the guts to try for. And I’d chickened out of every date.Omega centred packs were definitely not for gold pack omegas. Not unless it was dark bonds, and not chosen by them at all.

Again I fought tears. Those were just more dreams that had died in the water they'd been left in.

Suddenly, I regretted my own cowardice. Why hadn’t I seen that starting a pack—daring as it was—was so much better than the inevitable end I faced right now?

True love wasn’t impossible for omegas like me.

Everyone had seen the Saint pack on TV. A 300 alpha brawl started by four alphas when Havoc Saint—their gold pack mate—had been taken from them.

How many times had I rewatched that news clip?

Now it was too late. I’d been too afraid to start a pack. Then I had found my mates, and I’d been too afraid to tell them.

Havoc Saint would have faced her mates boldly, gold pack or not. She wouldn't have tried to run from her scent matches like I had—I jumped violently at a loud ding, before realising it was just an elevator.I had to get it together. I was meeting a pack who must want to dark bond me—the worst nightmare of any omega.

I would show them the strongest mask my mother had left me with, not an omega so jumpy she was frightened of elevators.

DRAKE

Vex was having nightmares.

Each restless shift, or low sob from her side of the room was enough to keep me wide awake. I wanted to go to her. Nightmares were the worst gift a brain could give, handing power to abuse long after it was over.

It went on forever. Finally, I got to my feet and headed over to her side of the room, wondering if there was anything I could do.

Even in the dim light, I could see her trembling, a pillow clutched to her chest, her silver-brown hair scattered in waves around her. She was wearing a baggy, long-sleeved top down to her knuckles. One pale leg was sticking out of the covers.

As I approached, her tension faded, her body relaxing just enough for me to notice. I paused.

Coincidence? Or perhaps… was it my scent? Or just any scent… the presence of someone else there…

I stepped closer, watching carefully as the tightness of her shoulders faded. Her rapid breaths calmed as she loosened her grip on the pillow.

Something stirred in my chest, something protective, warm, and demanding. The makings of a purr crept up my throat before I shoved it back down, afraid to wake her. That was new… I didn’t purr often.

Yet, if she woke, what would she see then? Me looming at the foot of her bed like a creep.

Instead, I settled on the floor at the side of the bed she favoured. I rested my back against the side table. Nightmares and I were closely acquainted, and sleep deprivation was something I was equipped for. I could sit here for as long as she needed.

I tried not to peer up at her for too long, but she was entrancing in the low light, still hugging a pillow, face only inches from the edge of the bed. There was a faint trace of kohl on her eyelids, remnants from the day’s makeup, and dark lashes brushed her cheeks. Her face was soft in sleep, her lips rosy red to contrast her skin—beautiful, even down-turned as they were right now.

Her hand shifted from the pillow, as if she were reaching for me, delicate fingers curled just slightly over the edge of the bed. I moved tentatively, hand hovering in the air between us. I could take her hand in mine right now. It wouldn’t be that strange. She’d invited me in here and even said she didn’t want me thinking I had to take the couch. Plus… holding the hand of someone asleep wasn’t egregious…

I drew back, still unsure.

A part of me wanted to climb beneath those blankets and hold her against my chest with a purr until she tumbled into better dreams. Only, I imagined what that would be like to wake up to.

A foreign touch everywhere.

Suffocating.

Unknown.

Out of control.

Panic rose in my throat like bile before I pulled myself together.

I swallowed, stuffing my hand firmly into the pocket of the sweats I was wearing.

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