Desired By Three Alphas; Fated To One novel Chapter 67

Chapter 67: Picnic

Hailee’s POV

A message popped up on my phone:

"I’m outside your apartment. You done?"

My heart gave a little jump as I stared at it, then slowly let out a breath. I turned to the mirror, smoothing my hands over the soft off-shoulder top I’d chosen—cream-colored, light, and simple but flattering.

I wasn’t dressed too much, but I wasn’t underdressed either.

Just right.

The ripped high-waisted jeans hugged my hips in all the right places, and I’d thrown on a pair of white sneakers to keep things casual. My red hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, a few loose strands framing my face naturally. I added a light dab of gloss to my lips and blinked at my reflection.

"Okay, you can do this," I whispered to myself.

I grabbed my phone, tossed it in my small crossbody bag, and headed for the door. Butterflies fluttered in my belly as I stepped out of my apartment and locked my door.

The moment I turned around, there was Dane.

Leaning against his sleek car, hands in his pockets, dressed in a plain black tee and dark jeans that somehow made him look like a walking magazine cover. His silver hair shimmered under the evening light, and those piercing brown eyes landed on me the moment I appeared.

A slow smile tugged at his lips.

"Wow," he said simply, standing upright. "You look... good."

I gave a small smile, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Thanks."

He opened the passenger door for me like a gentleman, and I slid in, trying to ignore the way my heart wouldn’t calm down.

This wasn’t just a picnic anymore.

It felt like something more.

Something I wasn’t sure I was ready for... but somehow wanted anyway.

Dane started the car, the soft hum of the engine filling the quiet between us. I tried to keep myself distracted by scrolling through my phone, pretending like his presence wasn’t making my stomach flip every few seconds.

But, of course, that didn’t last.

"I have to say it, Hailee," Dane said casually, breaking the silence. "You don’t seem like an omega to me."

My fingers froze mid-scroll.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze away from my phone and looked at him. "What do you mean?"

He glanced at me briefly, then focused back on the road. "You don’t smell like one," he said simply.

I blinked, caught off guard.

"You don’t have that usual omega scent," he explained. "It’s faint. Almost masked."

I swallowed hard, staying silent as my brain tried to catch up.

"And then there’s the way you act," he added, shifting slightly in his seat. "Omegas tend to be... more submissive. Quiet. Careful."

He turned to look at me again, this time just long enough for his eyes to sweep over me before returning to the road. "You don’t speak like them either. There’s boldness in you. Fire."

I stayed still, suddenly very aware of every breath I took.

"And the way you dress," he added, almost as an afterthought. "Most omegas don’t bother with high ponytails, fitted jeans, or off-shoulder tops. You dress in pretty good clothes."

The car fell into silence for a moment, his words lingering heavily in the air.

I swallowed hard, unsure what to say. I felt exposed... like he’d peeled back the layers I’d worked so hard to keep up.

And he wasn’t wrong.

Everything he said—everything he noticed—was everything I’d been told to hide.

I gripped the strap of my bag a little tighter.

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