Page 22 of The Packaged Deal
“We’re her alphas?” he asks in a choked whisper.
I hate doing this to him. “You can’t leave her. I have Kandi. I'm not going to choose her, Addy. She’ll be alone.”
He steps back from me, his shock changing, morphing until he’s left bitterly furious. I don’t blame him. I am a prick.
“You’d run from your omega, too, Sven?” He breaks off, unable to vocalise whatever he’s thinking.
It can’t be worse than what I'm feeling. My hands are sweating, my mouth is dry.
“So, this is goodbye,” I say to him. “If you’re leaving. You ruin all three of our lives.” Oh, yeah, I'm going to hell.
I know I am.
I have never, ever felt this desperate about anything.
He whips around, his brows rising. “So I should stay here and take that poor omega, unable to look after her or protect her or give her what she craves, and I should stay so you can sit in your cave of desolation and watch me?”
I approach him, taking his vodka glass and putting it on the bar. “Yes. Yes, to all of that.”
“Coward.”
My temper rises, but he’s right. I am a coward. I step into his path, and he bumps me with his chest.
He dips his head down, freezing when I turn away. My heart’s pounding, I'm torn, I want him. I want to cross that line and claim his mouth so badly, but if I cross that line, I'll be too far to come back, and I can’t go there.
Our breaths mingle, there’s a hesitation, and then he turns his head away from me, too. The moment, like so many others between us, is lost.
I mourn it; I mourn them all.
He steps to the side of me, going to the couch and dropping into it. I go to his bar and pour myself a bourbon. The space is nice, dark, manly. We designed it together. The varnished dark wood floors are the perfect offset for the oversized cream couches. It’s a room to sit and lounge in, to watch TV, or sit and chat by the fire. The bar runs along one side of the room and stops halfway, with a sliding door that opens to the backyard.
He’s left the curtains shut, giving us privacy, an intimacy that I yearn for. I cross to the couch and flop down right beside him. Our thighs touch, and I lean into his arm, pressing my upper body against his.
“You have to help her.”
Addy, my Addy, snorts. “I don't have to do anything of the sort. I think she’d be better off without me,” he says the last part quietly.
“Addy, that’s bullshit, it's not true at all.”
“Isn’t it? I'm aware of my reputation. The lone alpha. Cold, hard, a bastard to everyone.”
I lay my hand over his wrist, stopping his jiggling. “You’re more than that. And who cares what anyone thinks but her?”
“I care what you think,” Addy whispers and leans forward, putting his head in his hands. “And look where that’s got me.”
I put my glass on the ground and grab his wrists, turning him towards me. “Addy,” I say his name with all the things I can’t say and can’t give him. “What’s she like?”
His eyes flash with grief. “She’s different. She’s hyper and excitable. The world is a joy to her. She’s a pocket-sized ball of fun and sexy,” Adrian says with a chuckle.
I can’t help the flare of envy that I feel.
“How bad is it?” Adrian asks. He turns, and those blue eyes hit me like a laser. I'm frozen, swallowing words I’ve dreamed of saying.
I turn away from him, focusing on the topic at hand. “Her parents are super controlling, and they’ve picked her alpha out. I believe they gave her to him, and she ran. I think he found her.”
“She’s in danger, then?” Addy says, and I almost smile at how crushed he looks.
“Trevor Lockier is not a good alpha, his pack is missing in action. I don’t know if they exist, it’s hard to find information on this guy. I believe, with no proof, but I think Trevor did this to her.”