Don't Breathe Too Close
“If you don’t want to come, get out.”
My gaze flicks to the door. For a heartbeat, I actually consider it. My fingers twitch toward the handle—freedom, escape, anything but this.
Then his voice drops, low and deliberate.
“Step out, and everyone will know you’re an omega.”
The words hit like a slap. My chest tightens, fury bubbling hot, but my hand falls from the handle.
From the rearview mirror, I catch his smirk—slow, cruel, satisfied. He turns the key, and the car hums to life. The city lights blur past.
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