Chapter 10

ten

KITANIA

I gripped the porcelain rim of the toilet, my knuckles turning white as the cramps seized my stomach. The acrid bile burned my throat as I retched up everything I’d eaten for breakfast, my body shuddering with the effort. Finally, the violent heaving subsided, and I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth, trembling. I quickly flushed the evidence away, hoping no one had heard me. I didn’t want anyone to know I’d been sick.

Pushing myself up, I staggered to the sink and splashed cold water on my face. I planted my hands on the counter and stared into the mirror. I felt as hollow as I appeared—dull eyes with shadows etched beneath them, cheekbones that were a little too sharp, and skin pale with a sheen of icy sweat. I looked like a ghost of who I used to be.

Tears built, making my vision watery as dizziness swamped me. My knees threatened to give, but I forced myself to remain standing, bracing against the sink until the wave passed.

You’re not going to pass out and ruin the guys’ generosity.

As if on cue, a soft knock sounded.

“Kitania? Are you ready to go?” Dimitri called.

I rushed to the bedroom door, adrenaline spiking as I realized how long I’d made him and his brothers wait. When I opened it, his gaze immediately zeroed in on me, brow furrowing.

“Are you alright?” Dimitri asked, voice laced with concern.

I forced a smile, hoping the scent-blocking lotion I’d slathered on worked and concealed the fact that something was wrong. “I’m good. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

His forehead creased, but he didn’t argue. I slipped past him towards the stairs, desperate to get outside before he saw through my facade and could question me further.

I felt his gaze follow me, his protective instincts clearly piqued. It was as if he was tuned to my vulnerability, able to see straight through me.

We headed to the main level, and I tried to keep my steps steady, fighting against the lingering dizziness. The other three brothers were waiting in the foyer, eager and ready for our outing.

“Finally!” Tommas exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he saw me. “Thought we’d have to send a search party.”

I felt a flush creep up my neck. “Sorry,” I mumbled, averting my gaze.

Marco pointedly fixed his gaze on Tommas, shoulder-bumping him and nearly knocking him off balance. Then his attention swung my way, expression shifting to something gentler. “No worries, Angel. We’re just restless to take care of you.”

That alone would take some getting used to because no one ever had before, but the thought of being taken care of was… nice. Warmth blossomed through my chest, chasing away the lingering sickness and replacing it with a tentative, nervous kind of excitement.

We took the elevator down to a parking garage and stepped into the concrete jungle filled with luxury vehicles. The guys led me over to one, and I gaped at the massive, most lavish SUV I’d ever seen in my life. Its sleek black exterior gleamed, the chrome accents catching the light.

“Whoa,” I breathed, unable to keep quiet.

Gio chuckled, opening the rear door. “You like it?”

I nodded, still staring. “It’s… it’s nicer than any house I’ve ever lived in.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I immediately regretted it. The brothers exchanged glances, and I saw a flicker of something—pity? anger?—cross their faces.

Dimitri cleared his throat. “Well, we plan on changing that, Kitten.” He motioned inside with a little bow. “Shall we?”

I climbed into the backseat, sinking into buttery soft leather. The new car smell mixed with the scents of the four Alphas who got in after me created a heady cocktail that made my head spin all over again—this time for a much better reason.

I pressed myself against the door, wondering which button operated the window so I could get some fresh air. The Omega part of me was positively writhing , wanting to roll around in their scents until I was covered in the perfect notes of mint, smoke, sandalwood, and leather. But their combined signatures in such a confined space were also completely overwhelming.

My body reacted unconsciously, my nipples peaking and my core aching. With no underwear on—since I didn’t own any—it would be a miracle if I didn’t slick straight through my borrowed sweatpants, a pair that was unmistakably Marco’s, given his scent infused every thread of cotton.

“You okay there, Angel?” Marco asked, settling in beside me. “You look a little flushed.”

The small laugh I released was wobbly at best, and I squirmed in my seat. “You just… smell really good.”

If I was rosy before, I was fire-engine red now.

I can’t believe I admitted that.

It didn’t matter that we’d already established we were scent matched. It was embarrassing how much their signatures affected me.

“Trust me,” Marco practically groaned. “The feeling is mutual.”

Tommas twisted my direction from the front seat, his eyes twinkling. “You smell just as fuckin’ incredible, Butterfly.” He inhaled deeply, then frowned, catching only the lingering traces of my signature. “God, I hate scent-canceling lotion.”

Gio grunted in agreement. “Same, but it’s a necessary evil. There’s no way I want another Alpha to get a hit of her delectable perfume.”

Heat crept up my neck from how very primal they were being. But deep down, my Omega thrived amidst their possessiveness. I liked that they wanted me all to themselves.

Their scents swelled, and the combination of all four of them was all-consuming. My entire body felt like it was strung tight, hyper aware of each man. Every shift, every breath—I was attuned to it all.

God, how long is this drive?

If I thought being surrounded by all of them in the penthouse was difficult, being in such a small space was absolute torture. The best kind of torture, but still.

Blessedly, Gio leaned forward from the row behind us, his elbows resting on the back of our seats as he changed the subject, giving me something else to think about. “So, Dolcezza , what kind of clothes do you usually like to wear?”

I fidgeted with the hem of my borrowed t-shirt. “Oh, um… I don’t really have a style, I guess. Just whatever’s practical and… available.”

The car fell silent for a moment, and I could feel the weight of their gazes on me. I kept my eyes fixed on my lap, not wanting to see their reaction, their pity.

“Have you ever gotten to shop for things you actually liked?” Giovanni pressed, his tone gentle yet searching.

I shrugged, my embarrassment growing. “Sometimes. At thrift stores.”

He hummed, nodding lightly. “Then today might feel uncomfortable for you. But I want you to make me a promise.”

I shifted, gazing at him over my shoulder. “What’s that?”

“I want you to find clothing you actually enjoy.”

“And you won’t worry about the money,” Dimitri added, like he already knew I’d be eyeing all the price tags.

My mouth gaped open, then closed, then open again as my gaze swung to meet his in the rearview mirror. Even though he was driving, he held my focus for a prolonged beat before he had to pay attention to the traffic once more.

How was I supposed to make that kind of promise? I wasn’t someone who made empty vows. If I gave them my word, it meant something.

“Trust me when I tell you our Alpha instincts are riding us to provide for you. The least of your needs is a full wardrobe.”

“We want to buy you what you need, Angel,” Marco added. “And I bet your Omega is dying to be taken care of.”

“Trust your own intuition, Dolcezza ,” Gio pleaded. “It’s not healthy for an Omega to deprive herself of comfort and things that bring her happiness. That’s not just you, but any Omega.”

“And you’ve been deprived for way too long. Let me buy you all the pretty dresses and comfortable hoodies,” Tommas tacked on.

Comfortable hoodies did sound amazing.

I was wavering, and they could tell.

“We also need to make a stop for blankets and pillows for our girl.” Marco reached over, and his fingers lightly caught the ends of my hair, playing with the soft strands.

Thanks to their high-end shampoo, my hair had come back to life in just a couple of washes, though it needed a trim to give it some shape other than flat and straight.

“What’d’ya say?” Marco pressed.

I nibbled on my lip, looking from one determined man to another. There was no getting out of this, was there? Did I even want out?

No . I was Omega enough to admit that it felt incredible to surrender and have someone else worry about all the things I needed. I’d been in survival mode for most of my life, and I was bone weary from always worrying about where my next meal might come from, not to mention what I’d wear when my shirts and pants became too threadbare.

“Okay,” I agreed softly, promising myself I would only get the essentials.

Tommas whooped, making me jump and then laugh at how badly I’d startled.

He grinned. “Wait till you see where we’re taking you shopping. It’ll blow your mind.”

Gio’s voice broke through my reverie. “We’ll start out on Luxe Avenue and then go from there. The options are endless. I’m sure we’ll find things you like.”

I blinked at him. “Luxe Avenue? That sounds expensive.”

The guys chuckled.

“Oh, Butterfly,” Tommas grinned widely. “You’re in for a treat.”

Dimitri caught my gaze in the rearview mirror again, his expression soft. “It’s a high-end shopping district along the riverfront. Very exclusive boutiques.”

My stomach clenched with anxiety. “Oh. Isn’t there a Walmart around here? I don’t need anything fancy…”

As we veered through traffic, I couldn’t help but think about all the foster homes I’d bounced between growing up. The cramped apartments, the run-down houses with peeling paint and sagging porches. The group home I’d been dumped in before presenting wasn’t much better—a glorified warehouse for unwanted kids.

Our lives were as different as could be.

They were Armani, and I was the Great Value brand. We were fire and ice. Day and night. They were rich, powerful, and intimidating, and I was the girl without two pennies to rub together.

Dimitri tsked, and I swore his scent seemed to swell, his Alpha authority pressing in on me. “Are you going to let us, little Omega?”

Their combined signatures were too much, and with his Alpha demanding obedience from my Omega, I simply swallowed and nodded, a tiny humming squeak of agreement all I could manage.

A small smirk tilted his lips. “Good girl.”

Oh. My. God. I couldn’t hold back the needy whine that slipped up my throat from his praise.

Four distinct groans sounded throughout the car, which Dimitri blessedly pulled up to a curb outside a fancy-looking store.

I jumped out the moment he threw it in park, desperately needing that gulp of fresh air before I did something stupid—like crawling into Marco’s lap and shoving my nose into his neck just to get a stronger hit of his signature.

My chest heaved as though I’d just run a race while I stared up at the storefront before me.

The windows were spotless, the name of the boutique—Maison Couture—in fancy gold lettering above the door. Everything about this part of town screamed high end, from the cobblestone sidewalks to the ornate street lamps that seemed as though they belonged in a period drama.

I felt completely out of place in my baggy sweats as I drank in the sight of the mannequins posed in the display windows that flanked the door. They wore outfits that looked like they’d just stepped off a runway in Paris—flowing silk dresses in jewel tones, tailored suits that probably cost more money than I’d ever seen in my life, and accessories that glittered under the soft lighting.

My heart raced as I took in the other shops lining the street. High-end jewelry stores, fancy restaurants, and more clothing boutiques with names I couldn’t even pronounce.

This was a world I’d only ever glimpsed in magazines or on TV, never imagining I’d actually set foot in a place like this.

“Give me a minute,” Gio announced and strode into the store while I waited with his brothers, who surrounded me protectively.

I took the time to glance up and down the street, gauging any threats, scanning for the familiar faces that haunted my nightmares. Thankfully, there was nothing unusual until three startled-looking shoppers hurried out of the store, followed by Gio, who announced we were “all set.”

“Ready, Kitten?” Dimitri asked.

I wasn’t. I really, really wasn’t.

But I nodded anyway.

The guys surrounded me as we entered the shop, their scents offering comfort even as they drove me to feel like I was coming out of my skin. The sensations were at odds with each other, and yet the duality made complete sense.

Marco held the door open for the rest of us to step inside. A rush of cool air greeted me, accompanied by a sudden, almost shocking absence of smell. The brothers’ addictive signatures vanished in an instant, replaced by a sterile nothingness that made my nose twitch.

I blinked, momentarily disoriented by the abrupt change.

“Scent neutralizers,” Gio explained, noticing my confusion. “High-end shops use them to prevent our pheromones from tainting the clothing or influencing purchases.”

I nodded, grateful for the explanation, but conflicted about how I felt. On one hand, the absence of their intoxicating scents left me feeling oddly bereft, like I’d lost a security blanket. The warm, spicy, heady notes were gone, leaving a hollow ache in the center of my chest.

My Omega wanted to whine at the loss, already used to being surrounded by their signatures.

On the other hand, my mind cleared and the edge of lust I’d been fighting since the moment I got in the car eased enough that I could focus on more pressing matters.

Like how the shop girls were eyeing our group with wide, scared eyes as the door swung shut behind us.