Chapter 12 – B R O O K L Y N
I didn’t hearthem coming. My teeth are chattering so hard, I can barely hear the booming thunder, let alone the Alphas’ footsteps. By the time I can hear their muffled voices outside, I can’t possibly run anymore. I’ve only got one card left to play.
The pain was bad enough, but my fever’s risen so high that it’s hard to think about anything else. One minute, I’d feel burning hot, sweating, and so sensitive that even the soft surface of my T-shirt quilt was agony against my bare skin. The next minute, I’d be wracked with shakes, feeling like I was naked in a glacially cold winter. My body was incapable of finding equilibrium.
Desperate to relieve the agony, I managed to drag myself to my stream. The icy water provided some temporary relief, but it also washed away the remnants of the mud I used to hide my scent. I tried to reapply it, but my sensitive skin couldn’t bear to have anything coating it to keep the heat inside.
When I made it back to my bed, there was nothing to disguise my scent. I had to hope my shelter walls could contain the smell.
I can’t run and I can’t hide. Which leaves me just one, desperate option.
Fight.
Part of me wishes I’d taken Denver’s rifle, but I balked in the end. It felt more violent somehow.
Memphis was right—the crossbow was almost too heavy for me to draw. Almost. It took nearly half an hour to notch even one arrow, and it’s a miracle I even managed that. My fingers are tender and bleeding from all my failed attempts to draw the bow back. Once I fire, I won’t have the strength to notch another.
I’ve got one shot.
Somebody pulls back the tarp I use as a door, and dark, broad silhouettes appear. They sway in place, blending into and separating from each other. I see three men, then five, then one. Fuck, my fever has me seeing double.
I can still see how they recoil when the full force of my scent hits them.
“Jesus Christ,” one of them growls. Memphis, I think.
They say something to each other, but I can’t make it out. My teeth have started chattering again. I can’t tell what’s more upsetting to them, my scent or the crossbow I’ve got aimed right at them.
One of them lifts their hands in surrender then crouches. My heart swells in my chest as I catch his metal and peppercorn scent.
“It’s okay,” Denver whispers. Yesterday, he was harsh and commanding. But now, he’s soft. He moves slowly toward me, and his handsome face swims into focus. There’s kindness in the soft set of his mouth, but his hazel eyes are another story. They’re all raw, feral hunger. Hunger for me.
I whimper helplessly at him, and he closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath, then lets it out so slowly. When he looks at me again, his gaze is cool and controlled. Like he forced himself to stop before the hunger took him over.
Good thing he’s able to stop himself. Because now, I know I can’t. If any of these men offers me their knot, I won’t resist. I’ll lie back and let them take what they want, let them give me what I need.
“We’re not going to harm you,” Denver says softly. “We only want to help. I can see how much pain you’re in. Just tell me what you want us to do, and we’ll do it. Anything, I swear.”
I point to the door. I couldn’t be clearer. The only thing I want from him is for him to leave me alone.
Denver’s lip curls. “That’s the only thing I won’t do. You’re not safe here. A fire started not far from here, and you’re in no shape to run.”
I growl my frustration. The fucking liar—he offers up the illusion of choice, but when it comes down to it, he doesn’t care what I want. Typical Alpha, so sure that he knows what’s best.
“Anything but that,” he says. “I won’t leave you here to die.”
I just raise the crossbow. It says what I can’t: You’re not the only one who can deliver ultimatums.
The asshole has the nerve to smirk at me. “Cute. No way a sweet girl like you is gonna pull the trigger.”
For a moment, all I feel is rage. No common sense, no mercy, not even pain. All I care about is wiping that stupid smirk off his face.
My finger pulls the trigger.
Denver ducks out of the way just in time, and the arrow flies harmlessly into the clearing beyond. He swears and roughly yanks the crossbow from my shaking hands, throwing it to the floor. His broad hands grab my wrists, gripping them so hard that I can practically feel my bones crack.
“You could have fucking killed someone,” he growls, his eyes glowing with wrath. “You stupid girl, what the hell were you thinking?”
My eyes well with tears, and by instinct I cringe away. He’ll hurt me. The Alpha’s too strong—my pain will only make him happier.
Just like before. Just like with Grayson.
Denver’s grip on me loosens immediately. His face floods with regret.
“Fuck, Brooklyn,” he whispers. His voice sounds broken. “Don’t be scared. I’m sorry.”
I’m overwhelmed, by fear, by pain, by desire. But I almost laugh when a moment of clarity breaks through. I just tried to shoot this man and now he’s apologizing.
Letting go of me is obviously difficult for Denver. My Omega instincts are dying to pull him closer. He could lie on top of me, could open his mouth against mine, could pull my panties aside and plunge right inside me and I’d thank him for it. Denver’s drawn to me just as much—I know it. Yet, finger by finger, he peels his hands away until my wrists are free. It looks painful for him to take even a single step away. Yet he does. He looks like he’s holding his breath, giving himself the strength to back away.
My rational mind tries to filter through the information. Denver hates that he scared me, hates that he might do something I don’t want. The only thing he refused was to leave me alone and in danger. He wants me, yet he manages to let me be.
This Alpha is nothing like what I feared.
“We’ve got to move her,” Denver tells the others briskly. “One of us has to carry her. She can’t walk like this.”
My vision blurs as they move back into the shelter. I feel someone’s hands on me, and it’s like touching a hot iron. I can’t help it—I shriek. The noise sounds pathetic, more animal than human. Whoever’s touching me lets go immediately, but the pain lingers. I curl on my side, clutching my knees against me, trying to endure it.
“Maybe we can make a stretcher,” Denver suggests.
I hear a rumble of agreement—Memphis.
“We can’t. It’s too late now. She’s in heat,” Camden says. He was so sweet and playful last night. Now, he’s deathly serious. “We can’t move her in this condition. It already hurts for us to touch her. That’s not going away, not without suppressants.”
“What about the herbs you mentioned?” Denver demands.
“Even if I could find them fast enough, they wouldn’t be enough. Hell, I don’t think the medical version would help at this point. She’s too far gone.”
“So what are we supposed to do?” Through the haze of pain, I catch the scent of wild mint and tree moss—Memphis. His voice is rough and desperate, practically unrecognizable.
“There’s only one thing we can do,” Camden murmurs. “She needs a knot. Without it, the pain will be too much. The damage it could cause her to go through without it might be irreparable.”
Memphis growls. “She doesn’t want that. She’d rather fucking shoot us than let us touch her.”
“One of us has to, or she could die.” Camden sounds eerily calm.
“I’ll carry her,” Memphis says. “I don’t care if she screams. If we go fast, we can get her back to the Castles before she gets hurt.”
Even I know that Memphis is just bargaining. I remember his disgusted look at the fire the night before. Did he really care that much that I consented? Or is the thought of touching me still so unbearable to him?
Denver’s shaking his head. “No. The smoke from the fire is coming from the east, and if the wind keeps up, it’ll go south. If we go to Castle’s, we’re walking right into it. Camden’s right. We need to move soon, because the minute the wind shifts, the fire’s coming our way. There’s only one way to get her out in time. Someone has to knot her.”
For a moment, nobody speaks. Like they’re taking in the gravity of what they had to do. My occasional groans of pain are the only sound.
“Fine,” Memphis says, finally. “If it has to be done, I’ll fucking do it.”
My breath catches. Memphis is volunteering? Does that mean he’s not repelled by me? Could he find me just as attractive as I find him?
“No.” Denver’s tone brokers no argument. “You know you can’t. Can you honestly tell me you won’t bond with her? Can you promise you’ll be able to stop yourself from biting her once you have her?”
The two Alphas stare at each other. Then, with a roar of frustration, Memphis throws aside my makeshift tarp door and storms into the clearing.
“I’ll do it,” Camden says. “I’ve been with an Omega before.”
“So have I,” Denver shoots back.
Cam shakes his head. “Not during a heat, I bet. I’ve done it once. I was hiking, and ran into an Omega and her friends. She had a breakout heat, and if I hadn’t found them…it was awful, Denver. But I know what to do. I promise, I won’t bite her.”
Denver nods sharply. “Fine. But hurry. The fire’s coming, and we don’t have much time.”
He sweeps out the door, leaving Camden and me alone.