Abandoned Omega: Wanted by the Bigshots in the Military Academy

Miles Sherman’s expression was so earnest that Zoe Pierce eventually gave in and got into bed.

She thought she wouldn’t be able to sleep, but to her surprise, the moment her head hit the pillow, a wave of drowsiness washed over her, and she fell fast asleep.

When Zoe Pierce woke again, it was from the heat.

Her body was scorching hot. Kicking the blanket aside brought no relief.

She was only wearing a light nightgown. If she took it off, she’d be naked.

Zoe Pierce got up, intending to take a cold shower to cool herself down.

The cold water cascading over her burning skin brought a welcome chill. She found herself, for once, actually enjoying the sensation.

She gave herself a quick wipe with a towel, deliberately skipping the body dryer, and stepped out of the bathroom.

The bedroom door was ajar, and a dim, yellow sliver of light filtered in through the crack.

Zoe felt like even the air she exhaled was hot.

Her hand touched the doorknob. She pulled the door open and called out, "Miles..."

But when she opened the door, Zoe saw that Miles wasn’t there. A young man in casual clothes was sitting on the sofa—the red mole on the web of his thumb was unmistakable. It was Nathan Lockwood.

The Alpha looked up and saw the damp Omega.

Her beige slip dress ended high above her knees. Droplets of water still clung to her ink-black hair, sliding down her skin and seeping into the fabric.

It made the loose-fitting nightgown cling to her body, faintly outlining the curves beneath.

He watched her, a towel still in her hand as she dried her hair, staring at him in a daze.

"Nathan... it’s you... Where’s Miles? Is he gone?" Zoe asked, walking toward the sofa as she continued to dry her hair.

She noticed Nathan was holding a book. A cursory glance revealed it was about the history of the Federation.

’Not interested.’

She scanned the room, confirming that Miles was no longer there.

Nathan took the towel from her. As Zoe sat in front of him, he started to dry her hair. He answered her question first, then asked, "He’s gone. Why didn’t you use the dryer?"

His fingers felt cool to the touch. Zoe completely gave in to his care, her eyes narrowing. "I’m hot. So hot, Nathan."

In fact, the burning sensation was becoming unbearable.

She turned and knelt on the sofa, cat-like, planting her hands on the cushions just a couple of inches from his body.

"Nathan, how do I stop feeling so awful?"

His eyes darkened instantly.

His fingers, which had just been carding through her hair, now grazed her jaw.

His voice became deep and hoarse. "Zoe, stick out your tongue."

’Was he trying to diagnose her or something?’ Zoe didn’t understand.

But she still obediently opened her mouth.

And stuck out her tongue.

But then his hand, which had been resting on her jaw, pressed down on her bottom lip. The next second, her head was forced to tilt back.

Nathan’s features loomed large as his shadow fell over her.

His cool, thin lips touched hers.

The world dissolved around her.

Before Zoe could react, his arm wrapped around her, pulling her onto his lap in one swift motion.

The already short beige fabric was now all bunched up around her waist.

Her damp hair cascaded, half in front of her and half down her back.

"Do you still feel awful now?" he asked.

Zoe’s breath was a sweet whisper. Her hands were now resting on his shoulders as she murmured, "Not anymore... Nathan... kiss me again..."

The moment they touched, control was lost.

"I want to smell your pheromones... Nathan... I want to..."

She made one demand after another. Nathan’s hand reached for the nape of her neck, and there was a soft RIPPING sound.

Zoe saw the clear suppression patch land on the floor.

Nathan’s hand gently cupped her neck. "Then let me smell you first?"

’There was no refusing him.’

She slowly lifted her hair, gathering it in her hand at the back of her head.

The pose, the gesture—even Zoe could see the abyssal darkness in Nathan’s eyes.

Perhaps it was also because the slip’s delicate beige strap had slid down her shoulder, no longer where it was supposed to be.

The light, the woman, the scenery—it all blended together, creating a scene as captivating as a European oil painting.

The floral scent of Freesia spread rapidly. In just a matter of seconds, the fragrance reached Zoe’s nose.

She slowly leaned against his shoulder, exposing her fair neck.

At this distance, the scent of the pheromones flooded her senses, completely undisguised.

"Zoe... do you know what we’re going to do tonight?" Nathan’s breathing had grown heavier, but he still had to ask.

’How could she not know?’

From the moment she approached him, Zoe had been ready for this.

’Hadn’t she given him enough signals?’

Zoe tilted her head, facing his neck directly.

The next second, Nathan’s throat constricted, suddenly parched. A little cub was licking his exposed skin.

"I know..." Zoe said. "You’re talking... a lot tonight..."

For the first time ever, Nathan was being chided for talking too much.

"Your pheromone concentration hasn’t peaked yet, baby..." He chuckled, picking up a nearby monitor and waving it in front of Zoe’s eyes.

It was a pheromone concentration detector, which Nathan had brought with him.

In her daze, Zoe recalled the doctor’s words: they had to push her pheromones to their absolute peak. Right now, the detector showed a climbing yellow light. They had to wait until it turned red, which would signify her pheromone concentration had finally peaked.

In other words, she still had to endure this maddening, clawing torment.

But she wasn’t the only one suffering this torment.

Zoe could feel Nathan’s arousal as well; it was especially obvious given her current position.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, "So, are you going to show me tonight? The pink ones?"

She hadn’t forgotten what he’d said when she was drunk.

Nor could she forget the words he’d used to tease her.

Both their chests vibrated with laughter at her words. Nathan let Zoe hold him, raising a hand. "Of course."

"But you’ll have to give me a hand."

He was like a young master waiting to be served.

Zoe’s patience, at that moment, was terrifyingly good.

Her fingers took the initiative, rolling up the hem of his shirt. It was a casual pullover sweatshirt, and with his hand already raised, it came off easily.

It rested precariously on the back of the sofa, ready to fall at any moment.

His cool, pale skin was starkly visible even in the dim light. Blue veins traced a path from his wrist up his arm.

Zoe shifted back slightly to get a better look.

Creamy skin, and sharply defined abs.

All on display.

Zoe’s fingers first traced his abs, then moved up to his chest. "Nathan... I can testify now. What you said is true."

"They’re pink."

"But I think... mine are too... Do you want to see?"

"Zoe Pierce, I’m really... going to lose my mind." It was another first for him—Nathan, about to be completely undone by her words alone.