“Right. I must just be sick, then.”

He blows out a scoff. “You know better than that, Sofia.”

“Do I?” My palm finds one of the glands on my neck. Rubs it in a small soothing motion.

“You’re not sick,” Gabriel says. “The opposite, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You are…”

He shakes his head. Something unsaid lingers between us, something neither of us can fully acknowledge to the other. Me, because I want it too much, and being wrong would break me from the inside out. Gabriel… I wonder what his motives are.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Shakes his head. “I’ll tell you when I’m sure.”

“Yeah. Okay.” I force myself to take a step back, hating every inch of distance between us. Push down a swallow. “Since I’m obviously fast asleep and staying one more night, how will we pass the time?”

Something flashes in his eyes, but he doesn’t reply. Instead he pulls up the chair even closer than it was last night, and a minute later, I’m on the bed once more, watching Alex as she settles in for a nap at his feet.

This could be a routine, I think.

Him and me and the night. Or the day—like in my dream. It’s right there, the turquoise of his eyes in the sparkling sun. The weight of his scarred forearm resting over my waist. Right there, ready for me to pluck.

Except that no. It’s just not.

I have a mate.

Gabriel took me from my mate.

Without asking.

And here I am, wanting to roll in his scent.

While he obviously reads my mind. “Do you want to go back to him?” he asks, locking his eyes with mine.

“What?”

“Do you want to go back to Lennart?”

“Of course. He’s my⁠—”

“Do you want to go back to Lennart?” he repeats, slower this time, and I take it for what it is: an invitation to actually reflect before giving him an answer.

So I do. I wait for a beat, consider the matter, a roaring heat in my ears the whole time.

No, my gut says. I don’t. Why would I leave this place? This scent? When is the last time I’ve felt this good about something?

But what is the alternative? “House Larsen is my home. I have nowhere else to go. I have no one else. I⁠—”

His blue eyes harden. “Sofia.”

“Nothing has changed,” I continue. “What Lady Larsen did during my father’s funeral does concern me, but there must be an explanation. And she’s the only mother I’ve ever known. Why wouldn’t I want to return? What else do I have?”

“Sofia.” He looks at me like I should be careful, because I’m on the verge of disappointing him greatly. “You don’t need me to tell you, right? You are not so naive as to not realize that whatever is mine is yours.”

I cannot breathe. I think I know what he’s saying, but I may not be grasping the full implications of his words. After all, this is an Alpha who fills his bed—or whatever surface he favors—with Omegas. How long until he grows bored of me? And he exploited an antiquated custom to take me by force, didn’t he? I’m here only because he hates the Larsens, and as much as I agree with his opinion on the noble class, can I trust anything he says? Can I refuse to return home because he smells like the best thing I’ve ever known? Can I really be so selfish as to exacerbate the conflict between the general of the military and a Great House? It could throw the stronghold into chaos. Not to mention Gabriel hasn’t even said that he wants me to stay. And here I am, still tempted to agree to his requests.

I just can’t. “I have to go back,” I say, firm but soft. “Lennart is my mate. I have to go back to him. I owe him as much.”

Gabriel is angry. Furious. A brief moment of internal war explodes to his face, then fades into blank, bitter nothing. “Then, Sofia…I’d tell you that I’m sorry, but it would be a lie.”

“Sorry for what?”

He stands, dwarfing me with his size, looking down at me with a mix of menace and longing. “If I return you tomorrow, you can’t smell like you spent the last two days untouched.”

I cock my head, wait for the panic to rise at the realization that this is finally happening. The fear, though, never comes. Instead, a pleasant new warmth spills right below my stomach.

Ever since I presented, my body has always been a known quantity—dependable, predictable, not subject to sudden changes. And yet, without warning, I cannot breathe. “I am untouched, though.”

“That’s a problem I can easily solve.” He steps closer.

Something that feels too much like anticipation travels down my spine. “So, you… Are you going to have sex with me?”

He shakes his head. His large body, so close to mine, feels like a mountain of heat and delicious scent. “I’m not going to fuck you until you come back to stay.”

Until. Not if. “Then what⁠—”

“Close your eyes,” he orders.

I blink. “You’re not going to have sex with me. You’ll just…make it look as though you have?” His silence tells me everything I need to know. “Even if you make me smell like we…I would still be a virgin.”

A twitch in his jaw. “You think they’ll check? You think they care? For them it’s not about an Omega’s well-being. It’s just about their honor and about maintaining ownership of their possessions.”

He’s right. I picture Lord and Lady Larsen. Lara. Every member of the House, including the guards who’ll escort me, servants, other healers—they will all smell the sex and think the general ruined me. And there is nothing I could say that would change their minds.

I should be thankful to Gabriel for wanting to spare me some of it. It definitely makes no sense for me to ask, “If you’re going to ruin me in their eyes, why not take me and get it over with?”

“Is that what you want?”

I don’t reply. My mouth is too dry.

“Oh, Sofia.” He sounds amused and unkind. “That’s not what tonight’s about.”

I scowl. “Then what⁠—”

“Lift the shirt. I want to see your belly.”

I do, confused but not quite able to help myself.

“Lie back on your elbows. And close your fucking eyes.”

“Why?”

“Because right now I am your Alpha, and I just told you to.”

He’s angry. This time not just at the people in my life but at me. I should be scampering to a corner, apologizing and begging him to be gentle with me. I should do exactly as he says.

Instead, I keep my eyes open.

He exhales a single bitter laugh. “You are stubborn and reckless.” But there is satisfaction in his tone. A hint of admiration as his hands reach for his belt and unfasten it.

As a healer, I’ve seen plenty of cocks. Maybe that’s why I don’t gasp, or flush, or let my jaw drop. I remain remarkably steady as Gabriel pulls himself out of his pants, already fully hard. He strokes up and down. Up again, and down once more. I take stock of his shape and size, lick my lips, and wait entirely too long to realize what is about to happen.

“You’re going to spend on me,” I say.

His hand halts in a brief stutter. Then resumes, faster, grip tighter.

“And then I’ll smell like you. Lennart, and his parents—everyone will assume that you took me.”

“Close your eyes,” he says again. Not evenly.

I tilt my head. “Because you’d rather I not watch?” I let out a startled, though genuinely amused, laugh. The flex of his forearms is impossible to look away from. The sheer strength of him. “That’s a little hypocritical, no?”

“Is that what it is?”

“You’re fine with performing sexual acts upon my body without my permission, yet set boundaries for my participation.”

He huffs, but sounds sincere as he says, “I wish I’d found you under other circumstances.” Muscles seize in his throat. He has a steady rhythm going now. His eyes drift closed, head tips back, and I wonder if this is a sight anyone has ever experienced—a warrior of his caliber lowering his defenses, deliberately leaving himself at my mercy. I could reach for his sword and use it on him. I could have hidden my own weapon to escape. There are any number of things I could do to him when he’s this vulnerable.