Chapter 49: The Garage Confrontation
The bell above the shop door jangled, a sound Aurora had already grown used to hearing as customers came and went. This time, it was different. The air shifted, the hair on the back of her neck standing up before she even looked up from her book.
Elena stood just inside the doorway, her eyes scanning the bay, her red lips curved into something that wasn’t a smile. She zeroed in on the office window, her gaze locking on Aurora.A cold knot tightened in Aurora’s stomach.
Rhys had his back turned, his shoulders deep inside the engine compartment of an old Ford pickup. He hadn’t heard the bell over the radio and the air gun.Elena didn’t approach him. She walked straight to the office, pushing the door open without knocking. The scent of her perfume, a cloying mix of jasmine and pepper, invaded the small space, overwhelming the comfortable smells of oil and coffee.“Well.Look at this.” Elena leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed. Her eyes raked over Aurora, from her soft sweater to the book in her lap. “Playing secretary now?How adorable.”
Aurora’s throat went dry. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird. She wanted to look for Rhys, but Elena’s presence pinned her in place.“He’s working,” she managed, her voice barely a whisper.
“I can see that.” Elena’s smile widened, sharp and humorless. “And you’re… what?Keeping the seat warm? You know, he used to bring me here.I’d sit right where you are.Watch him work.” She tilted her head. “It gets boring, sweetheart.Real fast. Then you start looking for other ways to entertain yourself.”
The implication hung in the air, toxic and deliberate. Aurora’s fingers clenched around the edges of her book.
“He’s not built for soft, sweet little things,” Elena continued, her voice dropping to a confidential, venomous tone.“He needs a challenge.Something with claws. He’ll get bored with you.He’ll forget to be gentle. And you…” She let out a soft, pitying laugh. “You’ll break.”
A shadow filled the doorway behind her. Rhys’s hand, streaked with grease, wrapped around the doorframe, his knuckles white.He didn’t shove Elena aside. He simply moved into the space, his bulk forcing her to step back into the bay. He positioned himself between the two women, his back to Aurora, blocking her completely from view.
“Elena.” His voice was low, a vibration that seemed to come from the concrete floor itself.“Rhys, baby. I was just—”
“I heard what you were just.” He didn’t raise his voice. That was the most terrifying part.It was flat, cold, and absolutely final. “You don’t come here.You don’t talk to her.You don’t even fucking look at her. Are we clear?”
Elena’s confidence flickered. She tried to peer around him at Aurora.“You’re being dramatic.We’re just talking. The little omega and I were having a chat about what you really like.”
A sound ripped from Rhys’s throat. A guttural, unambiguous growl that silenced the radio, the air, everything. The guy at the other workbench froze, a wrench dangling from his hand.
“Get out.” The words were bitten-off, jagged.“Now. Before I forget I’m a civilized person and throw you through that goddamn door.”
The reality of his anger, the pure alpha dominance radiating from him, finally pierced Elena’s arrogance.Her scent soured with a spike of sharp, startled fear. She took a step back, her heels clicking on the concrete. “You’re making a mistake.”
“My mistake was ever letting you in here in the first fucking place.” He took one step forward, and she scrambled back two. “Don’t come back. Ever.”
With one last glare, Elena turned and stalked out, the bell jangling violently behind her.
The silence she left was thicker than the engine smoke. Rhys stood rigid in the office doorway, his breath still coming in heavy pants, his fists clenched. The sharp, protective anger in his scent was so potent it made Aurora’s head swim.Slowly, he turned around.The look on his face was raw, stripped bare. It wasn’t just anger. It was a ferocious, trembling possessiveness she’d never seen directed at her before.It should have scared her.It didn’t. It lit a fuse inside her, burning away the last of her fear.
She stood up on shaky legs, the book tumbling to the floor.He moved then. Two long strides and he was on her, his arms locking around her like steel bands, hauling her into him. One hand fisted in the back of her sweater, the other cradled the base of her skull, holding her flush against his chest. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply as if to cleanse himself of Elena’s presence.Aurora melted. Every tremble, every shaken breath, she surrendered to him. She pressed her face into the grease-stained cotton of his shirt, inhaling his true scent—cedar, leather, and now, her vanilla, clinging to him. Her arms went around his waist, holding on as if he were the only solid thing in a spinning world. A soft, desperate sound escaped her, part whimper, part plea.
“Shhh,” he murmured into her hair, his voice ragged. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe.” He repeated it like a mantra, his lips moving against her temple, like he's reassuring himself as well as her. “My sweet girl. Mine.”
The word, spoken with such raw conviction, unlocked something in her. A primal Omega recognition. Safety. Claim. His. She nuzzled harder against him, her body going pliant and soft in his grasp, a silent offering of trust. He felt it. His arms tightened further, almost painful, but she welcomed it. He needed this—the proof she was here, real, and unbroken. “Told her,” he whispered, his breath hot on her skin. “Told her she was wrong. She doesn’t know a fucking thing about what I’m built for.”
Aurora pulled back just enough to look up at him. His eyes were dark pools, storms of emotion. She lifted a hesitant hand, her fingertips brushing the rigid line of his jaw, the stubble rough under her touch. “You were,” she breathed, “so scary.”
A flicker of concern crossed his face.
“I liked it,” she admitted, the truth leaving her in a desperate rush. “When you… when you growled for me.”
Something in his expression shifted, the protectiveness twisting into a hotter, hungrier intensity. His gaze dropped to her mouth. The air between them crackled, the earlier tension transforming, condensing into something else entirely.
He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers.Their breaths mingled. “Aurora,” he said, her name a prayer and a warning.She knew what he was asking. She answered by tilting her face up, closing the last inch between them, and brushing her lips against his.
It was like throwing a match into a pool of gasoline.He didn’t kiss her.He claimed her. His mouth was desperate, consuming, all the controlled rage and fear channeling into a searing possessiveness. His tongue swept past her lips, and she opened for him gladly, a small moan escaping her. His hands moved from her back to her face, holding her still as he tasted her, again and again, as if memorizing her.When he finally broke away, they were both gasping. He rested his forehead against hers again, his eyes screwed shut. “Christ,” he muttered, voice thick. “You can’t… I can’t do this here.”
She knew what he meant. The office, the shop, the world outside—it was too exposed for what was simmering between them now.“Your place,” she whispered, the boldness surprising her. “Take me to your place.”
He opened his eyes. The storm in them had calmed, replaced by a single, focused resolve.He nodded once, a sharp, decisive motion. He took her hand, lacing his grease-stained fingers tightly with her clean ones.
“Mike!” he called out, his voice already back under a layer of control, though his grip on her hand was iron. “Locking up.Handle the rest.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He just led her, hand-in-hand, past the silent engines and the startled employee, out into the fading afternoon light. He didn’t let go to open the truck door for her. He did it one-handed, never releasing her, as if fearing she’d vanish if the connection broke for even a second.
He helped her up into the passenger seat, his hand lingering on her waist. Before he closed the door, he looked up at her, his gaze sweeping over her face, her kiss-swollen lips, her wide, trusting eyes. The look he gave her was sheer, undiluted possession, mixed with a dawning awe that made her breath catch.
He shut the door softly, walked around the hood, and got in.The engine roared to life.
He drove them away from the shop, from the confrontation, towards something unknown. His thumb stroked rhythmic, possessive circles over the back of her hand the entire way.