Don't Breathe Too Close

JORDANAlaric Wren is the heir to the Wren Empire, and he’s been my father’s favorite comparison since I could talk. He’s the one I was raised to idolize. The gold standard. The perfect alpha.I hate him.I’ve spent years avoiding being in the same room as him. But now, it looks like I won’t have a choice.He’s exactly what an alpha is supposed to be: tall, broad-shouldered, sun-bronzed like he’s been sailing yachts or scaling mountains. His shirt doesn’t hide much. That ripped, powerful build probably comes from a mix of discipline and luxury.Meanwhile, I have to eat like hell just to look a little bigger than the average omega. I train every single day. No breaks. No excuses.It’s not even about being jealous of what he has. Not really. I’m an omega… biologically, I’ll never look like that.What pisses me off is that he’s everything my father wants me to be. And no matter how hard I work, I’ll never be him.He’s not even supposed to be here.His assistant usually handles negotiati

JORDANI try to think fast—but I can’t. Nothing comes. It’s too much, all of it. My mind won’t process a single coherent thought. I have no idea what to do.Stumbling toward the floor, I ignore the searing ache in my core and grab one of the spilled pills near the sink. My fingers tremble so badly I nearly drop it again. Doesn’t matter. I shove it toward my mouth, my entire body screaming for relief…for silence…for control.Then his voice slices through the haze. Closer now.“Don’t,” Alaric says sharply.I freeze, pill halfway to my lips.What the hell is he talking about? Why is he telling me not to take it? I clearly need it. I’m falling apart, and he’s trying to stop me?He steps forward. “You can’t take that. It’s filthy. It touched the floor.”My hand shakes harder. “I don’t care,” I whisper.“You should.” His voice is low. Not cold this time. Not mocking. Just steady. “You’ll get sick.”I can’t look at him. Can’t breathe right. My body pulses with heat, my thoughts spiraling out

JORDANThe door creaks open.Voices spill into the bathroom—louder, closer. My entire body jerks.He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move. And I—I can’t breathe. My heart slams against my ribs as the men enter, laughing, dragging the reek of cigarette smoke and sweat with them. I press myself tighter against Alaric’s chest, trying to disappear.I expect him to push me away, maybe toss some smug comment at me, or reveal me just to watch me squirm. But he doesn’t.Instead, he grabs my wrist. Then my waist.Before I can react, he yanks me backward, pulling me into one of the stalls. The door clicks shut, loud and final. He locks it.I can’t see his face, but his breath brushes my neck—steady, low. My pulse skips as footsteps stop right outside the stall. My heart pounds so hard I’m sure they’ll hear it.“There. That one.”Please, no.“Think he’s in there?” another mutters, sniffing the air.Then—A growl. Low. Barely audible. But it vibrates through Alaric’s chest.The air shifts. Thick. Heavy. Hi

JORDANThe water is cold, yet my body burns from the inside out. Each stroke of my cock is rushed, messy, as though urgency itself drives my hand.I grip tighter, pumping faster, trying to drown out the sound of his voice in my head, the phantom weight of his body still lingering on mine.“Damn it…” I bite down on my lip, swallowing a groan.I try to picture anyone else’s face, but none come to me. The only one that appears is Alaric’s—his wide grin seared into my mind.I shut my eyes, desperate to conjure another image. Anyone. But it’s useless. His face, sharp and unyielding, stares back at me, looking as though he owns every part of me. My pace falters, but the need won’t let me stop.The pressure builds—sharper, faster—until it breaks. Heat floods me, spilling over my fingers, mixing with the water swirling around my thighs.My chest heaves as I slump forward, forehead pressed to the slick wall. Relief washes through me in weak waves, but it’s fleeting.I sink lower into the water