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I’ll do what I do best. Be a ghost. And before anyone notices, I’ll disappear.
A scent match. Destiny. Fate. My meant-to-be mates. Omegas have an extra fail-safe when it comes to finding our matches. We don’t need to be awakened to recognize their scents. To them, my scent is nothing. To me, theirs is everything I can never have.
Only a few things make me feel alive. Bikes. Stunts. Saunas. Killing. Clubbing. Fucking. And Lilah motherfucking Darling.
“Re-read the girl’s records,” Hikaru insists. “She’s evasive. Jumpy. Always in a fight. Never attended events with alphas unless she was coerced. Lilah’s not going to trust your pack unless you earn it.”
She has dark circles under her big eyes and a hint of yellow bruising in her hair. It’s not a healthy look, and it makes an unwelcome rumble build deep in my chest. I should be protecting her.
“I’m used to being alone.” There’s a resignation in her voice that sends a wave of guilt crashing.
In a different life, I would’ve fallen for Orion harder than any of them.
I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired of never being enough. Never being chosen. Always being the one who’s thrown away. Even by my mates. My fated mates. Fate is fucking bullshit. I won’t chase anymore.
To my cabin in the woods, a new city, a new life. It doesn’t matter as long as I’m free. Another cramp wracks me so hard I bite my tongue. I taste blood. All I have to do is survive.
The scent of fresh-torched crème brûlée rewrites my fucking DNA. It’s not just the scent. It’s the sight of her. Lilah. My mate. She pulls into herself, shaking and pained, and her soundless scream is the worst sound I’ve ever heard. Second worst is Orion’s panicked breathing as he crumbles.
