CHAPTER SEVEN

SOFIA

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Being hand-fed by a rogue alpha on a random Saturday morning had not been in my plans when I’d stepped onto his property last night. Yet here we were. And I wasn’t complaining. Apparently, food was the way to tame me. Who knew? The rogue alpha brought the buttery goodness to my lips again.

My gaze rose to his as I lowered my mouth, meeting him halfway. Our eyes connected as I bit into the toasted bread. Watching him watch me sent a strange thrill through me. Heat prickled along my skin, and I couldn’t deny that his presence, his scent, and the quiet way he observed me had my pulse racing.

My throat felt dry. I swallowed, trying to control my breathing as he reached for a piece of sausage, holding it near my mouth. I chewed my bread slowly as he held the meat out to me. Meat... don’t go there, Sofia. Don’t think about a different kind of meat. Ugh! You’re doing it. You’re thinking of his meat.

What the hell is wrong with you, woman? He karate-chopped you and tied you up. But he also fed you bacon. Bacon makes everything better. Ugh. I was an idiot. A hungry idiot. I swallowed the toast and leaned forward to accept the meat he was offering, my hunger overriding my better judgment.

When I bit down on the savory goodness, my lips accidentally brushed his fingers. A shiver shot through me, zipping straight to my core. I jerked back, nearly choking on the meat he’d given me. Suddenly, he was even closer, his scent enveloping me as he reached around my body and patted my back.

Pat. Pat. Pat. My clit thumped in time with his pats because I was a horny little psychopath, apparently. Reminder to self: never go a year without sex again. I don’t care how abysmal the dating pool is. A one-night stand could save you from yearning for your kidnapper.

“Thank you,” I whispered after swallowing down the food.

His answer was a rough grunt, which didn’t help my current state of arousal. There was something seriously wrong with me. If he knew how he was affecting me, he didn’t let it show. Who was I kidding? He definitely knew. He was just being a gentleman rogue. A gentleman rogue? I hadn’t even known they existed.

He brought more food to my mouth. And I ate it, careful not to get too close to his fingers. He was patient with me – waiting until I’d chewed and swallowed what was in my mouth before offering me more. There was something maddeningly intimate in this silent exchange.

His eyes never left me, watching my every move, every lick of my lips, every small intake of breath. His intense attention was making me hyper-sensitive. I could feel his gaze like a touch, tracing the curve of my mouth as I chewed, sliding down to my throat as I swallowed. Our eyes met for a long, quiet beat, and the air thickened, the tension coiling tighter.

I couldn’t decide if I wanted to lean into him or shove him away, maybe both. He offered me another bite of toast, but I shook my head. I’d eaten enough. If I ate much more, I’d have a tummy ache. Me declining his food brought a look of disappointment to his face. And suddenly, I wanted to stuff myself with food to make that look go away.

I started to ask for more, but he’d already turned the tray away, and I was already wondering why I was behaving this way. He sat the platter on the center table, lifted the glass of milk, and turned in my direction. He must’ve read my mind because I was indeed thirsty. He brought the cup toward my lips.

How were we going to do this and prevent all that white stuff from dripping down my chin and onto my clothes? Hmm . I chose not to lean forward. Instead, I tilted my head back and parted my lips, my eyes never straying from his. He brought the cup to my mouth, tipping it gently so I could drink.

The cool liquid filled my mouth, flowing over my tongue, causing me to shiver. My throat tightened as I swallowed, the sensation unexpectedly... sensual. I met his eyes over the rim, feeling a rush of heat as I swallowed again. His chest was rising and falling faster now, his eyes blown, his nostrils flaring.

His reaction had me growing wetter, which spiked my scent, making it sweeter, the sweetest I’d ever scented it. And in that moment, all I could think about was how much I wanted his hands on me, how much I wanted to push him, to make him lose control the way I was so close to losing it.

He tilted the glass down, our eyes still locked, and I knew he could sense what I was feeling. I didn’t want to admit how much I was drawn to him. But my traitorous body wanted him to know. I licked my lips. His eyes dropped to my tongue. A low rumble filled the room. Fuck me, I wanted to feel that rumble against my clit.

I wanted to sit this pussy on his tongue and let him growl as much as he wanted as he feasted on me. His growl grew louder as my scent spiked. I inhaled deeply. There was another scent blending with my sweet citrus. Honey and orange blossoms. The rogue smelled it, too, because I felt and saw his entire body tense.

“That was... hot,” a soft but deep voice whispered, pulling me and the alpha’s gaze from each other.

Our eyes snapped to the omega, who was no longer asleep. Busted! I was supposed to be saving him from the rogue alpha, not giving the rogue fuck me eyes and eating from his hand. The omega’s silver gaze drifted from me to the alpha. He licked his lips, and my pussy perked up. The alpha next to me inhaled deeply, a shudder wracking his body before a low growl filled the room.

Same, big guy. Same! This omega was easily the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. And his scent made my mouth water. For a while, the three of us just sat there, staring at each other with the omega's eyes drifting from me to the alpha next to me while the alpha and I were unable to tear our gazes from the beautiful omega before us.

I’d never been attracted to an omega before now. Actually, alphas weren’t my type, either. I preferred betas, like me. Their scents weren’t as overpowering, and they weren’t as needy. Plus, I didn’t have the equipment to keep an alpha or an omega satisfied long-term anyway, so there was that.

However, I always chose romance books about alphas and omegas because their neediness was perfect for each other. And there were times when I was tempted to join a bond that already had an omega in it. I may not be needy. But giving all of me in a relationship was my love language.

And this alpha and omega had me wanting to give my all... wait ... what the hell was I thinking? I blinked, the hazy allure between us fading as reality snapped back into focus. I looked at the omega lying before me, his silver eyes watching me and the alpha with a quiet intensity. I needed to say something to ease this strange tension in the room.

“Are you hungry?” I asked him softly, hoping my voice sounded natural.

His gaze locked onto mine, and after a moment of hesitation, he nodded slowly, his eyes flicking between me and the plate on the table. I was about to ask the alpha for help when he suddenly sprang to his feet, moving so quickly that he nearly knocked over the tray, causing the glass of milk to wobble.

He snatched it up, along with the tray, and was out of the room before I could say anything. He was on edge because of the omega. Poor alpha! That’s what his kidnapping ass gets. That must’ve been the fastest anyone had ever moved for a tray of food.

And I could’ve sworn he’d been blushing, or had that been my imagination? I had to admit, seeing a towering alpha nearly scramble in his haste to get food for the omega was almost... endearing . It was definitely adorable. Laughter bubbled out of me as I replayed his actions in my head.

There was no way this rogue was trying to harm us. He was too... too... I didn’t even have the words. But he was nothing like a rogue should be. I laughed again, shaking my head. Maybe I wouldn’t try to kill him to escape after all.

“How are you even more beautiful when you laugh?” a soft voice spoke up.

My laughter died on my lips, the omega’s words catching me off guard. My gaze returned to him.

His cheeks flushed a delicate pink as he seemed to realize what he'd said. "I'm... I... I'm sorry... I," he stammered, looking away, embarrassment etched across his features.

I shook my head, offering a gentle smile even as my pulse raced. "Don't worry. It's okay," I reassured him, keeping my voice warm and soft. I wanted to ease his nerves, though inside, I was practically giddy. A gorgeous omega had called me beautiful. Me. A beta. Seriously, was I the only normal-acting person in this cabin?

Rogue alphas didn't hand-feed betas or nearly break their ankles trying to get food for wounded omegas. And omegas didn't call betas beautiful or stare at them like they wanted to touch them. If I didn't know better, I'd swear I was dreaming. Too bad my hands were still bound, or I'd have pinched myself to verify.

"Thank you for the compliment," I said softly, tilting my head to study him. The morning light softened his delicate but strong features, highlighting the silver of his eyes. "Though I think you might have that backward. You're the beautiful one."

He shook his head slowly, his silver eyes closing as if to hide from my words. The gesture was so pained, so vulnerable, that it made my chest ache. For a long moment, silence hung between us, heavy and charged.

"I've never wanted to be beautiful," he finally whispered, his voice so low I almost missed it.

The raw hurt in those few words hit me like a physical blow. I could hear the deep-seated pain behind his confession, could sense the heavy burden he carried. Whatever had put him in this state – bruised, battered, and filled with self-loathing – had left scars far deeper than the visible ones on his skin.

My chest tightened painfully as a quiet fury began to simmer beneath my skin. Who had done this to him? Who had made this lovely creature feel that his beauty was something to be ashamed of, something to despise? I wanted to curse, to lash out, to hit something.

The urge to protect him, to shelter him from whatever had hurt him so profoundly, was almost overwhelming. But I didn't want to startle him with any sudden movements or harsh words. And, of course, I was still restrained. Instead, I reined in my temper, forcing my voice to remain soft and calm when I spoke to him again.

The omega's silvery eyes brimmed with unshed tears as I spoke, my words seeming to pierce through the protective shell he'd built around himself. His pain was a tangible thing, radiating from him in waves. No one should have to carry around that much pain.

"You know, beauty isn't something that has to define you," I said softly, holding his gaze. "It doesn't determine your worth. It doesn't make you deserving of being cherished or mistreated. It doesn't make you weak, and it doesn't make you strong." I paused, watching the subtle shifts in his expression.

His brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion passing over his delicate yet handsome features.

"It's more of a decoration. Something nice to look at, but it has no sustenance," I continued. "It’s like a beautifully wrapped Christmas gift. Yeah, the wrapping is gorgeous and gets you excited, but the true gift is what’s inside. Get it? What's important is who you are on the inside. It's how you treat others, those weaker than you and those stronger than you."

His breath caught, and I sensed I was getting through to him. My heart raced, desperate to reach whatever part of him was hurting.

"Yeah, you're beautiful. But that's just one part of you, a small part of you. I can already tell that you're a good person, and you're strong."

"I'm not strong," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

The rawness in those three words made my chest constrict. I wanted nothing more than to wrap him in my arms, to shield him from whatever demons plagued him. But I knew words were all I had to offer right now.

"You're alive," I reminded him gently. "That means you haven't given up. That requires strength."

His eyes closed, shuttering away the storm of emotions I'd glimpsed. A sarcastic chuckle escaped his lips, devoid of any real humor.

"Living doesn't require strength," he said. "Dying does."

His words left me staring at him with my lips parted in shock. This poor omega. My heart broke for him. I wanted to hug him close, to offer some of my warmth to him. I wanted desperately to protect him. But how do you protect someone from their own thoughts?

“I don’t know you,” I continued. “I don’t know your past. I don’t know what haunts you. But you’ve been given a second chance. You survived, and now you’re free to start again. Before you can officially start again, you first need to heal. To get stronger, physically and mentally. That takes time. That’s not something that should be rushed. But once you’re ready, you get to decide what to do with your second chance. If you need help along the way, I’m willing to help.”

"Why?" he suddenly asked, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Because I'm an omega? Because I smell sweet?"

His scoff cut through me, but I didn't let it show. Instead, I met his gaze, willing him to see the sincerity in my eyes.

"Nope," I told him, keeping my voice firm but gentle. "I'll help because if our roles were reversed, I hope you'd help me. I wish this world was full of people who helped others when they needed a hand."

He fell silent, his eyes slowly drifting open. In those stormy depths, I saw a flicker of something – not quite hope, but perhaps a lessening of despair. I decided to press on.

"Just so you know, the people who hurt you are the real cowards. Not you."

I felt a lump forming in my throat as he returned his gaze to me, moving slowly as if every motion pained him. My breath caught as I saw unshed tears shimmering in his striking eyes. For a moment, he simply looked at me, his expression raw and vulnerable. In those silver depths, I caught a glimmer of something close to hope, fragile but unmistakable.

"Be strong, omega," I told him, my voice barely above a whisper. "The worst of it is over. Let's hope for better days going forward."

I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from my own eyes. Damn it, why was I getting so emotional? This wasn't about me. Yet, those words applied to me, too.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

"For what?" I asked, genuinely curious.

He hesitated, seeming to search for the right words. "For being... you. Whoever you are."

A small smile tugged at my lips. "My name is Sofia."

"That's a pretty name," he murmured, and I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks.

"Not really," I demurred. "It's simple. I've always wanted to change it."

To my surprise, a spark of interest lit his eyes. "Never change it. It’s perfect for you. In Greek, it means wisdom."

"Really?" I asked, intrigued.

He nodded, a faraway look crossing his face. "My mother used to read a lot of Greek literature. She even named me Greek."

"Your name is Greek?" I couldn't hide my surprise.

He nodded again, a hint of self-consciousness creeping into his scent. "Strange name, huh?"

I considered for a moment. "No. Well, yeah," I admitted with a small laugh. "But I love it. It fits you."

A blush tinted his cheeks, making him look even more adorable. "Thank you, Sofia."

"You're welcome, Greek," I replied, savoring the way his name felt on my tongue.

I smiled at Greek, warmth blooming in my chest as we held each other's gaze. For a moment, the world beyond this room ceased to exist. There was only us, two lost souls finding a fragile connection amidst the chaos.

We remained that way, both of us, staring at each other and smiling until we heard the alpha’s footsteps heading in our direction. Greek tensed, his gaze dropping to the floor. And just like that, the spell was broken.