Salvation (Wild Heat)

Chapter 6 – C A M D E N

The Omega won’t lookat me. After I told her we were there to take her home, her eyes kept darting behind me, tracking every move Memphis and Denver made. She’s waiting for them to attack. To her, they’re threats. Every time they take a step toward her, she flinches so hard that it looks like she might fall over.

I’m glad that she’s not looking at me now. It means that I’m the one she trusts. Her instincts are telling her I’m not going to hurt her. My chest swells with warmth and pride—I’m going to take care of Brooklyn, and some part of her knows it.

But the guys are majorly pissing me off right now. The way they’re growling and posturing in front of her, she’s never going to let down her guard and listen to us. Her mismatched eyes are wide, her pupils blown with suspicion and panic.

I hate that she’s scared. She’s clearly been through enough, and now her supposed rescuers are looming over her like they’re wolves about to tear into her.

Fuck that.

“How about you guys give us some space?” I say quietly. I want to growl at them and demand they leave, but that’ll only freak her out more. She needs someone quiet and rational.

Clearly, Denver hasn’t gotten the message.

“If we leave, she’ll run,” he spits. “We spent too much time tracking her down. She’s not going anywhere.”

Memphis grunts in agreement.

I resist the urge to flip off my teammates. My mom taught me that girls like manners, and since they’ve apparently forgotten how to say please and thank you, I gotta be the polite one here.

“Just step back a bit, then,” I tell them. “Let me and Brooklyn talk. She’s not gonna run until we’ve had a conversation first. Are you, Brooklyn?”

She turns those brown and blue eyes on me, and I know I’m fucked. I’ve never seen eyes like that, one pale blue, the other rich brown. Like the sky and the earth. This woman is elemental. The urge to protect her overwhelms me, and I have no idea whether it’s the pheromones or whether it’s just her.

“It’s okay,” I murmur. “We’ll just talk. I promise.”

Her eyes scan my face—she’s clearly deciding whether she believes me. Finally, her head jerks in a nod. I can’t help but smile back at her.

She trusts me. The Omega trusts me.

“See?” I tell the guys. “She’s not going anywhere. So give her some breathing room.”

For a moment, neither of them answers. Then Memphis sighs and turns his back. He strolls back to the fire, where he sits with his crossbow across his knee. He’s still doing that silent scowling thing, but at least he’s doing it from further away.

Denver sighs, and his shoulders slump when he decides to give in. “Fine. But if you run, we follow you.” He taps the side of his nose. “We’ve got your scent now.”

With a last look at her, he retreats back to the fire with Memphis.

They’re far enough away that they can’t hear us if we speak quietly. Tired of crouching, I move to sit down cross-legged. Brooklyn eyes me then does the same.

It’s not much, but it’s progress.

“I’m glad we found you,” I tell her honestly. “We weren’t sure you made it out here. But it looks like you did all right.”

She doesn’t answer. She just stares back at me. Her clothes and most of her skin are covered in thick gray mud. I’m guessing that’s how she got so close to us without us scenting her. The few patches of clean skin I can see are olive-toned. Her dark hair is wild and long, but matted in places. It can’t have been easy for her to stay groomed out here.

Thankfully, she doesn’t look as malnourished as I feared. She’s thin, sure, but her hips are sweetly curved and she’s got thighs that I’d love to close my hands around. She looks older than the photo we were given. A mix of the hard life she’s survived out here and the passing of time.

And her face—god, her face. Each feature is distinct, yet perfectly balanced. Her sharp jaw framing her lush lips, her stunning eyes turned down at the corners. She’s delicate and bold all at once.

I planned to wait for her to speak first, let her lead the conversation. But I just can’t help offering her something.

“Can I get you some water?” I ask. “Or something to eat? We’ve got plenty.”

She doesn’t answer, and I realize she’s trembling. It’s chilly tonight, and the Omega isn’t wearing enough layers.

We might well be the first people she’s seen in months, and we’re not exactly acting like a welcoming committee. She’s probably in shock right now.

I’m dying to wrap her up in a blanket, or just pull her against me and let my body heat do the work. If she’d let me, I’d hold her by the crackling fire and feed her peanut butter sandwiches until she understood that she was safe now.

But we’re going to have to start with small steps.

“I’m going to get you some water anyway,” I tell her. “You mind staying here for a minute?”

She might try to run while I go to my tent for supplies, but I have a feeling she’ll wait for me. She knows Memphis and Denver are watching her. This is how I build trust with her.

I take a few steps back before I rise back to my full height. When I turn my back on her, I don’t immediately hear her scrambling to get up and run.

Progress.

Once I unzip the door to my tent, I decide where I want to start. I grab two water bottles, a packet of electrolyte replacement powder, and a box of peanut butter crackers. After a moment’s thought, I get a towel, too. She might want to clean off some of that mud.

Brooklyn’s still waiting for me when I emerge. Her eyes are wary, but I’ve passed my first test of trust.

I sit down again before I extend my hand to offer the water bottle. She takes it silently, then allows herself a long sip from it. When she’s done, little drops of water collect in the bow of her upper lip.

“Do you want some electrolyte powder, too?” I ask. “I use it to rehydrate after a long hike. It tastes like pink lemonade.”

When she nods her agreement, she doesn’t wait as long this time. She’s not second guessing every single gesture, which is good. I toss her the packet and she catches it. I watch while she empties it into the water bottle, then shakes it to mix it up. As she tries it, she lets out a tiny moan at the tart, sugary taste. The sound goes right to my cock, and I can feel myself hardening under my jeans.

Down, boy. We’re not here to fuck her. We’re here to keep her safe.

We sit quietly while she drinks and I take deep breaths, trying to get my cock to calm down.

When she’s finished, she hands me back the water bottle. Our fingers graze as I take it and honest to God, there’s a spark. The smallest touch from this Omega is enough to make me crazy. I want to get closer to her, so much closer. I was going to try to get some food into her next, but I can’t stop myself from skipping ahead a step.

“Do you want to clean off some of that mud?” I ask her, holding up the towel. It’s probably best for all of us if she stayed covered in the scents of the forest, but it can’t be comfortable for her.

Brooklyn extends her hand to take the towel, but the urge to get closer to her overpowers me. I move toward her, towel in one hand and spare water bottle in the other. She goes completely still while I approach, her eyes fixed to me, but she doesn’t flinch away. She’s willing to let me into her space.

I pour some water on the towel, then bring it up to gently rub the mud on her cheek. Her eyes flit closed at the soft touch, and my chest fills with heat again. She trusts me. She’s letting me take care of her.

Neither of us speak while I slowly clean the mud from her face, but the longer I’m close to her, the shorter her breaths become. She’s just as affected as I am by our nearness. Our bodies call out to each other. The sweet scent of wildflowers rises to my nose, like I’m standing in the middle of a sun-drenched meadow. I’ve never smelled anything so goddamn beautiful.

Which is a big fucking problem.

She’s dripping slick between her legs. I know that means her heat is coming, and it’s coming on fast. From what my sisters have told me, it could even be a matter of hours.

I have no idea how I’m going to resist her. Because even after just a few minutes with her, I know that I’m attached. She’s been lost and alone, and she needed someone to take care of her and bring her home. Maybe it means I’ve got a hero complex, but I know that person is me. She’s not someone to give her trust lightly, and somehow, I’ve managed to earn some of it.

It’s a treasure she willingly handed to me. And now, all I know is that I have to do whatever it takes to keep her safe.

Even if it’s from myself.