Page 121 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

“It—” She swallows. “It’s about the gala.”

I go still. The gala. The balcony. The red dress and the kiss that I’ve replayed in my mind so many times the memory has started to fray at the edges.

She takes a deep breath before she continues. “That night we met,” she says, looking up, “for the first time since I started working for Sentinel, I fucked up.”

She pauses. Her fingers tighten around the glass, her knuckles going white against the clear surface.

“I was supposed to target another alpha, Finn.”

Something loosens in my chest. Because I already knew.

“I figured,” I say.

“You did?” Her eyes widen slightly.

“Yeah.” I lean against the counter. “I didn’t know then why you ran. But after you showed up here in Synthera and you told me you were undercover that night, I put two and two together.” I pause. “I remember you asked my last name. And the second I said it, you were gone. So I figured you must’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

She sets the glass down carefully. “I’m sorry, Finn. I never meant to deceive you.” She swallows and closes her eyes.

“I felt like I had no choice. The alpha I was after... he hurt her. So, so bad.” Her voice fractures on the word bad. “You should’ve seen her, Finn. She couldn’t walk after. She was—he almost⁠—”

She stops and presses her palm flat against the counter, steadying herself. I can see the tears forming, turning her eyes bright in the kitchen light.

“Sophie—” I push off the counter and move toward her, my hand rising, reaching for her arm, any point of contact that might anchor her before the current pulls her under.

Her eyes flash. The vulnerability snapping shut, replaced by something hot and fierce.

“He almost fucking killed her.” The words come out like shrapnel. “And I thought you were him. My handler sent me a photo of an alpha wearing a green suit. And I thought, who the fuck wears such an ugly suit?”

I almost smile. Almost.

“But you were also wearing a stupid green suit,” she says. Her voice is caught between fury and tears.

“It was a great suit.”

“It was hideous.”

My mouth twitches, but the humor doesn’t last. Not with the tears in her eyes and the image of an omega who couldn’t walk still hanging between us.

“I kissed the wrong man,” she says, her voice hollow, as if she’s confessing a sin she’s been carrying for months. “I had the wrong target and I kissed you and I⁠—”

“Sophie.” My voice is steady. I need it to be steady, because hers isn’t, and one of us has to hold the ground. “I understand. I don’t blame you.”

I move closer to her and she doesn’t move. The kitchen counter is behind her, the marble edge pressing against the small of her back, and I’m close enough now to see the individual lashes framing her eyes, the tiny scar at the corner of her eyebrow that I’ve never noticed before.

“That night.” Her voice drops to something barely above a whisper. She’s looking at my chest, not my eyes. “It wasn’t a lie. Not all of it, Finn. Parts of it were real. Parts of it I was being... me.”

“I know, Sophie.” My voice comes out soft and I can’t seem to hide the ache in it. “It doesn’t matter what cover you wear.” I take another step and close the last of the distance between us. “I can see you.”

I lift my hand slowly, giving her time to pull away, to stop me, to do any of the things I’d expect her to do when an alpha reaches for her face.

She doesn’t pull away.

My palm settles against her cheek. Her skin is warm, and to my surprise she leans into my hand and closes her eyes.

“Even when I don’t want to,” I whisper. My thumb traces her cheekbone, feeling the smooth curve of it. “Even when I’m trying so hard to ignore you. I see you, Sophie.”

Her eyes open, dark and bright, and for once she doesn’t hide what she wants. She glances at my lips and I can see the exact moment she decides, the heat and vulnerability and the raw, terrified courage of a woman who is about to do something she can’t take back.