Maya clasps both her hands over my shoulders, drawing me in. My wolf happily latches on to her scent.
"We are going, Zara," she says firmly. I believe her as she strokes my hair. My head on her shoulder blade, unmoving, like it belonged there all along.
"Okay." I wipe the tears with the back of my palm. With a smile, I nod my head affirmatively. I'm doing this. I'm going to be free from Alpha Josh's shackles.
"I want you to answer me. Are you sure? Do you want this?" One of the things I love about Maya is her tenderness. She cares more than she should, and she says the right things always. You'd swear she isn't seventeen, because she sounds like an eighty-year-old wizard.
"Yes." I'm very sure. So ready I feel like leaping into the air and jumping repeatedly for the fun of it.
Maya's expression is solemn. The corner of her lips lopsidedly turns into a hideous smirk. If I blinked, I could have missed it. She pats me on the back and audaciously flips her hair to the side.
"It's as easy as he said it would be," she whispers in my ear. Her damp lips touch my earlobe, sending shivers down my spine and putting me under her spell. I take a step back, hugging my arms to my body. My wolf is so angry she wants to jump her down. But I have neither the strength nor the courage to fight my best friend. No, not in a billion years.
"What are you saying, Maya?" I know what I did next was stupid, but I took a fighting stand, pointing my forefinger at her while simultaneously waving my hands in the air like an idiot. Call me crazy or whatever, but I have this feeling in my gut that this isn't Maya.
"The girl is all yours," Maya yells at the maze of a hall. We are at the farthest part of the Packhouse; I know that because there's just one door that leads outside. When I ran from my mate, I explored the building and looked into every crook and cranny, searching for the best hideout. Turns out, I chose the closest to the entrance. It's a funny world, being trapped by your own best friend. I blink twice, trying to figure out if I am going crazy or not.
"You're not Maya, are you?" The girl who I believed to be my best friend just a few minutes ago smirks and flicks her hands in the air like they do in fairy tales. I desperately latch on to the idea that Maya is playing games and there's no way she could look and sound evil, but she isn't jocular. She never was.
"No, Zara, no." When she says that, she pronounces my name in the most menacing manner ever, puckering her lips and then smacking them for emphasis.
"I will take it from here." Alpha Josh emerges from the end of the corridor. He is glistening with sweat, breathing heavily, and marching in like he owns the place. Wait, he does. His shirt is undone, exposing his tanned, hairless chest. I try not to look down, or I might be sucked in. I'm supposed to be mad, not crazy over him.
"Thank you so much for your work, Cynthia." The shape of Maya morphs into that of a skinny old lady. She has on makeup and a coat draped over what seems to be a suit—it's hard to see. The sun is about to set; beams of light transcend into the building, pronouncing the tense atmosphere.
"Who—what is happening?" I voice out. I unconsciously bring a hand to my lips, keeping them close, trying not to shiver too much—or at all.
"I'm very disappointed in you. Omega." He inserts a finger into my slightly parted lips, forcing them open. I swallow. I have no time to register when or how he came over to where I stood, or whether Cynthia—or whoever she is—is still in the vicinity or not.
What Alpha Josh does is take up the whole room and set it ablaze.
"Maya was just," I croak out. I point to the space where, just a few minutes ago, the image of my best friend was projected. I realize that Maya was never there and that this was a test of some sort. And I failed, badly. I step back from the devil as far as I can get.
"Shh..." he shushes. His lips are turned into a mesmerizing smile, captivating and horrifying at the same time.
He pushes me against the wall, both of his hands caging me in—just an inch, and we will be smooched in.
He leans forward, pressing me more, flushing me against him. He whispers so low, words so dear yet dangerous. I fall hard.
"Omega. You worthless Omega."
This is abominable.