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It’s thirty-six minutes before her breathing evens out, before the wariness in her body language gives way to something that almost resembles rest. I stay perfectly still the entire time, arms slack, head down, forcing myself not to fidget or fill the silence. For someone who makes a living commanding rooms, it’s a kind of torture—more than once, I have to clamp my teeth together to keep from blurting out her name.When she finally emerges, it’s not dramatic. She peels back the blanket an inch at a time, fingers shaking but determined, and gives me a look like she expects to find the room empty. I offer her a thin smile. She blinks, as if surprised I haven’t left.“Still here?” she whispers, voice gone hoarse from crying.“Always,” I say, and instantly regret how much it reveals.She pulls the blanket up to her chin, defensive. “You don’t have to babysit. I’m not… I’m not going to break.”“I know,” I say. I keep my voice soft, so soft I almost can’t hear it myself. “I just want you to
JaceI let her slip away. It’s the only way it ever works with Renee—no sudden movements, no declarations, just a gradual, inevitable retreat behind whatever barricade she can scramble together in plain sight. She wraps herself in her nest with an efficiency that speaks to far too much practice: tangled sheets, a quilt that must’ve weighed as much as she did, two ragged couch pillows sandwiched over her head like noise-cancelling headphones. Only her bare ankles poke out, small and chalk-pale, twitching with each new pulse of anxiety as she senses me in the next room.I hover by the kitchen sink, coffee mug in both hands, as if the ceramic is the only thing keeping me from lunging across the apartment to drag her back. I stare out the window at the neighboring garage’s corrugated tin roof, where sunlight glances in hard, insistent angles. My wolf wants to flatten itself against the glass and howl. Instead I take a long swallow of bitter coffee, tasting it for what it really is: burnt,
I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe a little more trepidation or a nervous breakdown or at least the decency of a full-scale panic attack. What I did not anticipate was for my wolf to hijack my hands, my limbs, my entire corporeal self and start packing up my apartment with a ruthless efficiency that would have made Marie Kondo weep. She—my wolf, Jasmine—had decided, apparently, that we were moving out.It started with the kitchen. I watched, equal parts horrified and incredulous, as I gathered up my pots and Tupperware and half-empty bottles of spices into boxes scavenged from behind the corner bodega months ago. I could only observe, a passenger in my own body, as she tackled the blender, the hand mixer, the never-used bread maker with the methodical precision of a serial killer. Each item was wrapped in dishtowels and socks, then wedged into boxes, labeled in my chicken-scratch handwritingJace moves through my tiny kitchen like a force of nature at half-speed. He props one elbow o
The mix of emotions that go past her face was expected. I really didn't want to drop this bomb on her right when I got here. But she brought it up and I couldn't ask for a better opening to bring it up. Something I was truly dreading trying to find a way to bring it up. So, she did that for me."Why?" Her tone is neutral, her face is too."A few reasons, really." I admit. "One because it's the safest place for you to be." She starts to interject, but I raise my hand and shake my head. "No, let me explain."She closes her mouth and sits down, her arms crossing, and her lips pressed tightly together."So, there are a lot of things that I want to explain to you. But to be fair you just admitted my point yourself." I gesture towards the bed where she put the stuff from her nest. "You can't leave your nest set up because you are worried about someone seeing it and figuring out that you are an omega." I don't say that I feel like that isn't exactly right something tells we there is more to
To say I was upset to wake up alone would be an understatement. I was kind of devested. But it only reinforced in my mind, that all men are trash. Sneaking out before dawn was low. I feel that it's even worse since we didn't even have sex. With a newly renewed anger. I stand from my nest on the couch, ready to keep my anger and directed at the world. At least my omega side was happily taking a back seat and letting the alpha take the driver seat. Well, it was until something falls to the floor in front of me. A piece of black fabric, well piece in not the right term. Its large enough to me a throw blanket. I pick it up and immediately know its Jace's and his scent of sandalwood and vanilla. I can't help but bring it to my nose and inhale like it's better than the oxygen I need to live, in someways it is. And in others it is a downfall. Because he may have left but it for me so I could sleep well. And I did. It was the best sleep I have ever had. No nightmares and looking at my nest
I know I shouldn't be sitting in her nest, but she didn't object when I stay. No instead she fell asleep. As the sun dips in the sky and the world falls dark. I know I need to leave. I want to make her dinner, but I am not going to wake her. Today was a lot for her. It was a lot for me. My mate is an omega. Yeah, I need to leave. I don't know how she would feel if I stayed, and I need to process that information. Omegas are so a rare these days. She will need extra protection. I don't know if Alexs knows that she is one. But he could have caught the scent she was hiding so well the other night when she catered my even. But here today it was strong, I mean why wouldn't it be she had no reason to hide it here in her home.I look down at my mate, careful to not disturb the slumbering form of my mate. Her breath rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern, peaceful and innocent. She looked so vulnerable, curled up in the nest, her face serene. It was hard to believe that just last night, she had be