0004: Denial

KAREN’S POV

My hands trembled—clenching, unclenching—like the frantic beat of a trapped bird’s wings as I followed Jackson through the gravel path. The crisp night air carried the scent of roasted lamb and stew from the nearby homes, but all I could focus on was him.

His broad shoulders, the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt with every deliberate step, the quiet, predatory dominance in his stride—it all made my skin prickle with awareness. Being near him was pure torture.

Every breath I took was laced with his scent—sweet and wild, something that coiled low in my stomach and made my pulse stutter. The mate pull was a relentless ache in my chest, a whisper in my blood, urging me to close the distance between us. To submit. But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

Dinner with his family had been unbearable. Sitting across from him, forcing polite smiles while his gaze burned into me like a brand. His parents had been kind—too kind. It unsettled me, made my instincts scream trap.

Back in my old pack, omegas like me were invisible. We ate scraps, bowed our heads, and never, ever sat at the Alpha’s table like some honored guest.

Why are they being so nice? The question gnawed at me, confusing me. They don’t know what I am yet. Once they find out… A cold knot twisted in my stomach, tightening until I could barely breathe.

Jackson stopped suddenly, and I nearly collided with him. My breath hitched as I stumbled back, but his arm shot out, fingers wrapping around my wrist in a grip that was firm but not bruising.

His touch sent a jolt of heat through me, and I hated how my traitorous body reacted—how my skin tingled where he held me, how my pulse leapt like a startled hare, wanting more.

"Careful," he murmured, voice low and rough, like gravel dragged over velvet.

I yanked my hand away, glaring up at him. The light from the front porch caught the sharp angles of his face, his dark blue eyes gleaming with something dangerous. Amusement? Possession? Hunger?

‘Why is he looking at me like that?’ I wondered, looking away.

He tilted his head, studying me with the lazy confidence of a predator who already knew it had won. "Are you avoiding contact with me on purpose?"

I swallowed hard, crossing my arms over my chest like a shield. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

A smirk tugged at his lips, slow and infuriating. "Liar."

My spine stiffened. He knows. He could feel it too—the pull, the tension simmering between us like a storm about to break.

Before I could respond, he stepped closer, crowding me until my back hit the door of my quarters, the wood cool against my skin. His scent wrapped around me, intoxicating, suffocating. My lungs burned with the need to breathe him in.

"W-what are you doing?" My voice came out too breathy, too weak—too much like a corned prey.

His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear, the touch feather-light yet scorching. "So you’re just going to keep pretending?"

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of defiance and fear. "I don’t know what you mean."

His thumb traced my jaw, his gaze dropping to my lips like he was already tasting them. "You feel it too, don’t you? The mate pull."

No. No, no, no.

Panic flared, sharp and bright, a wildfire in my veins. I shoved against his chest, but he didn’t budge—just absorbed the impact like a stone wall. "Get away from me."

His grip tightened, fingers pressing into my skin just enough to remind me of his strength. "You’re mine, Karen."

The words sent a shiver down my spine—anger, defiance, and something else, something dark and traitorous that curled in the pit of my stomach.

Without thinking, my palm cracked against his cheek. The slap echoed in the silent night. Gasps rippled through the gathered pack members. Whispers slithered through the air—"Did she just…?" "No one hits the Alpha!"

I didn’t care.

Jackson’s head turned slightly from the force, but when his eyes met mine again, they burned with something feral, something that made my blood sing with both terror and thrill.