Salvation (Wild Heat)

Chapter 17 – D E N V E R

The dark skymatches my mood as we trek forward, the smoke thickening in the air around us. I hear the rustle of small animals moving through the brush. The fire is enough of a threat that they’re more concerned with getting away from it than the threat of human predators. Apparently, chaos is on the menu for everyone in the forest tonight.

Nothing’s going right. Preparing for every contingency before a mission is a point of pride for me. I’m seldom caught by surprise, and if I am, I can trust my judgment and roll with the punches—metaphorically and, all too often, literally. The minute I accepted this goddamn assignment, I threw myself into research and planning. Naturally, I assumed the hardest part of this mission would be finding Brooklyn, if we managed to even do that. I didn’t put much thought into the difficulties of getting her home.

Now, here we are, with a wildfire, a storm, and hundreds of miles between us and the end goal. However much I prepared, it obviously wasn’t enough.

But how could I have planned for an Omega in heat drawing in my entire team? Camden and Memphis were both gone for Brooklyn the moment they scented her. She’s got them wrapped around her little finger, even though she’s lied to us, run from us, and stolen our things more than once. No wonder she survived out here on her own—she’s able to control the environment around her perfectly. Camden and Memphis were no match for her.

Fuck.I know I’m not being fair to the other guys. I saw with my own eyes how hard Memphis tried to resist Brooklyn, and I gave Camden my blessing to knot her. It was the right choice strategically—he had the most experience with Omegas in heat. I can’t blame either of them for how they reacted to her.

And I’m definitely being unfair to Brooklyn. Her very biology is what’s controlling the guys. All she’s trying to do is make it through this nightmare without losing her mind from the pain.

I’ve got to step up and take responsibility. I’m the leader here. It means I have the responsibility to stay neutral, even if my teammates have compromised their objectivity. I made a promise to Roger Castle to be the one in control. Which means I have to stay the hell away from Brooklyn, no matter how tempting she smells.

“Should we wait for them here?” Camden asks when we reach the top of a ridge.

I nod and drop my pack. Rain’s coming, but it’s not here yet. The fire’s still a threat, which means we need a plan. I find binoculars in my pack and survey the land ahead. There’s a valley, then another ridge. Beyond it, I can see gray rocks.

A plan has formed in my mind by the time Memphis and Brooklyn catch up with us. She’s walking, which means Memphis’s knot took the edge off for her. I should be happy about it—we’ll make faster progress without someone having to carry her.

But fuck that. I hate that she’s better because Memphis got to her. My instincts are demanding that I sink my own cock in her, too. Her scent is still heady and delicious, even managing to overtake the smell of smoke.

Worse, Memphis looks tenser than ever. Instead of getting some relief from knotting the Omega, it’s like it only made him want her more. There’s no suspicion when he looks at her now. This girl has already run from us, and it seems obvious to me that she might try again.

Brooklyn coughs, and Camden’s at her side within seconds.

“You alright?” he asks.

She nods. “Just the smoke.”

It’s true, the smoke is getting thicker. Right now, I’m more worried at Camden’s reaction to the smallest sign of distress from her. I adjust the plan in my head—I’m going to have to separate her from the others, if both of them are off their game like this.

“Alright,” I say briskly, getting everyone’s attention. “We’ve got to get out of the smoke and find shelter before it rains. It might be heavy enough to collapse the tents we have left.”

I shoot a look at Brooklyn, who stares back, unfazed. Apparently, she still doesn’t feel guilty for ruining Camden’s tent.

I keep going. “I looked at the terrain ahead, and I think we might be able to find a cave over the next ridge. That could work. We also need to figure out how to help the heat symptoms. Camden, you mentioned some natural remedies?”

He nods eagerly. “Now that she’s knotted, the herbs might be enough to keep her fever down. I’ll be looking for mint and wild garlic, willow bark, maybe some glasswort if I can find it.”

“What about columbine roots?” Brooklyn pipes up. “I’ve used them before.”

Camden’s eyes narrow. “Are you kidding? Those are poisonous!”

She shrugs. “I don’t use too much. I can take some every eight hours or so, and my heat symptoms stall.”

That has Cam’s face turning red with rage. “So that’s your plan to deal with your heats? You’re poisoning yourself?”

Brooklyn scowls back at him. “They’re my heats. It’s none of your concern.”

“The hell it’s not!”

I rub my temples in irritation. This is exactly why I need to separate them. It’s obvious by now, the thing Brooklyn values most is her independence. She bristles when her movements are controlled, and I suspect it’s part of the reason she hasn’t worked too hard to be rescued. We live in a world where unbonded Omegas are treated like children, ushered from place to place by glorified babysitters. Out here, she doesn’t have to deal with any of that.

So the more Camden tries to tell her what to do, the more she’ll want to run the first chance she gets. Even if what he’s trying to stop her from doing is objectively stupid. If she poisoned herself alone out here, there’s no one to rush her to the hospital. She’d die.

“Camden, I’m putting you on finding the herbs,” I bark. “Take Memphis. If you get off course, he can track us down. Brooklyn and I will go ahead to the next ridge to find shelter. You’ll meet us there.”

As expected, my plan isn’t popular.

“You want us to leave you alone with her?” Camden demands. Memphis growls his disapproval.

I level them both with a gaze. “Do you honestly think either of you should be trusted alone with her?”

Both their expressions darken. I know it’s not because they’re suspicious of the other one taking advantage of her. It’s because they’re both self-aware enough to know that if they get to knot Brooklyn again, the urge to bond with her will be too powerful to resist.

“Fine,” Memphis snaps. He snatches his pack from the ground, walking away from the situation before his temper gets the best of him. As he goes, Brooklyn looks at him, and I think I see a flash of hurt on her face. Her hormones probably have her feelings all tangled up. Memphis was knotted in her minutes ago, and now he’s fleeing like he can’t get away from her fast enough. She must feel devastated.

It almost makes me feel bad for sending him away—until I see her eyes shifting back to the forest around us. I recognize the calculating look on her face. She’s still looking for a way out. It’s my job to stop her before she finds one.

Camden, at least, is a bit more sensitive than Memphis. He gives Brooklyn a tender kiss on the forehead before he leaves.

“Be good for Denver, sweetheart,” he tells her with a wink, sauntering after the brooding tracker.

Which leaves me with the Omega.

We eye each other warily for a moment, both of us obviously doubting the other one’s agenda. The silence stretches between us like a taut cord. Whoever speaks first risks that invisible force snapping back at them.

I give in first.

“We’re losing daylight. Time to get moving.”

Brooklyn inclines her head, agreeing. She’s started talking a bit more, but still seems to prefer nonverbal communication when it’s possible.

“Lead the way, princess,” I tell her, with a faux-gentlemanly sweep of my hand.

“Where are we going?” she asks, doing a terrible job of looking innocent. Obviously, she wants me to go ahead of her so she can slip away while I’m not paying attention. Fat chance—she’ll take the lead, or we’ll stand here waiting forever. I’m not letting her out of my sight for a minute.

I point to the top of the next ridge. “It’s a straight shot to the caves. I think you can manage navigating that.”

Brooklyn must be able to tell from my steely expression that arguing is pointless. She makes a show of reluctantly picking up the small pack Camden let her carry, and stomps into the darkening woods.

Neither of us talks during the walk. It’s not a surprise—she hasn’t been much for conversation since the moment we met her. On my end, it’s hard enough to keep my wits about me when I’ve got Brooklyn’s sweetly curved ass to admire. Despite her wiry frame, she’s still soft in the places that count. I’d love to wrap my hands around those thighs of hers, watching her flesh dimple under the pressure of my fingers.

Brooklyn’s scent is no less intoxicating now than it was last night, filling my nose with her amber aroma even if I’m a good eight feet behind her. I’m almost thankful for the smoke—it’s the only thing tempering the smell of her slick now that she’s fully started her heat.

Camden and Memphis can’t get back with those herbs soon enough.

When we reach a huckleberry bush, Brooklyn stops and looks back at me. Her expression is surprised, and I realize I’ve been humming.

“You can keep going,” she says quietly. “I like that song.”

“Not even sure I know the words,” I admit. “It’s just something I heard on the radio.”

“Look it up when you get back. It’s called ‘Josephine.’”

I keep humming a little longer, the catchy melody cycling through my mind. Occasionally, as the wind dies down, I think I might hear Brooklyn humming along, too.

Once we’ve crossed the valley before our final ascent, we stop humming. We need all our breath to make our way up the steep hill. The smoke’s still intensifying, too. We both fall into small coughing fits as we climb, passing a water bottle back and forth as needed.

It must be at least an hour before we finally reach the top of the ridge. I allow myself a moment of relief before I look ahead to the caves. Now, we’re able to see the ground ahead, and my relief evaporates.

Fuck me sideways.

Obviously, it’s not such a straight shot to the caves after all. A deep ravine stands between us and the ridge ahead. Brooklyn and I both move closer to the edge so we can peer down below. Gray, rocky ground runs on either side of a small river, maybe five feet wide. My stomach drops as I see the steep, sudden decline. I take a few quick steps back before the vertigo starts.

I’m not afraid of much—not snakes, storms, or soldiers out to kill me. There’s only one thing that freaks me out. Let’s just say, there’s a reason I joined the Marines and not the Air Force. I fucking hate heights.

Rummaging in my pack for a water bottle, I turn away from the Omega. I can’t afford to show weakness around her. She’s too clever not to take advantage.

I wrack my brain, trying to come up with a solution. It’s way too steep to climb down—maybe we could rappel if I had enough rope, but it would take precious hours we don’t have. It would be dark by the time we made it to the bottom. Not to mention, just thinking about hopping down the cliff with just a rope between me and the rocky ground below makes me break out in a cold sweat.

On either side of us, I can’t make out the end of the ravine. Hiking around it might be another mile, or way more. The smoke is still heavy—if the fire gets to us before the rain starts, the only way to go is down.

I manage to keep from gagging at the thought of it.

“Look,” Brooklyn says, pointing to our left. A thick, fallen tree connects one side of the ravine to the other. It’s been there a while, and the wood’s starting to decay in small pieces. It obviously wasn’t placed there as a bridge, and I doubt it could hold Brooklyn’s slight form, let alone all 200-something pounds of me.

Before I can say anything, Brooklyn’s already trotting over to the fallen log. She pushes at it, trying to see how stable it is.

“Not a good idea,” I say. “As soon as you put your weight on that log, it’s going down with you on it.”

“You don’t know that.” Brooklyn kicks the tree, which doesn’t shift a millimeter. “Seems pretty sturdy to me.”

Testing her theory, she grabs a fist-sized rock from the ground and throws it on the overhanging trunk. It lands harmlessly. She glances back at me, smiling like she’s expecting praise for the test.

“No way,” I say, crossing my arms. “Too dangerous. We’ll find another way.”

“How?” Brooklyn sounds exasperated. She gestures to the ravine on either side of us. When I don’t acquiesce, she crosses her arms, too, mirroring my posture. I try not to look down at the way it pushes up her beautiful little breasts. “Then tie a rope around my waist. You can hold the end, and if the tree falls, you’ll keep me from going down with it.”

“What about when you swing right back into the ravine wall and smash your head open?” I say, raising a brow.

“That won’t happen.” Her unused, raspy voice has never sounded so confident.

“But if it does?”

“Then at least you’ll have my body to bring back,” she says simply.

I frown—I don’t like any part of this. It’s unnecessarily risky and dangerous, and we haven’t even tried to look for another alternative. But the fire’s still behind us, and we already set the caves as a meeting place with Denver and Memphis.

Brooklyn crosses her arms. “Look, I’m gonna try crossing the tree whether you want me to or not. So you can either help me, or watch me plummet. Your choice.”

To emphasize her point, she hops on the top of the log, balancing on it. Seeing her so close to the edge, unprotected, feels unbearable.

“Fine,” I choke out. “I’ll get the rope.”

The nylon rope in my bag is neon yellow. I loop it around my waist, tying it tight. When I’m confident in the knot, I move to Brooklyn and gesture for her to raise her arms so I can wrap it around her. Of course, she glares at me a few seconds before she obeys. She just loves challenging me.

As I snake the rope around her, my fingers accidentally brush her stomach. Even through her t-shirt, her body feels hot. I hear her breath catch as we make contact, and for a moment I let myself imagine touching her on purpose. Running my fingers over her skin and finding out what other noises I can elicit. Her sighs and moans, maybe she’d even call out my name…

I shake my head, quickly finishing wrapping the rope around her, and when I tie the knot, I’m careful not to touch her. I can’t allow myself to give in to her, no matter how intoxicating her scent is.

When I step back, we’ve got roughly 20 feet of rope between us. Should be enough for her to get over without any issues.

“Good luck,” I say. She acknowledges that with a curt nod.

This time, when she climbs to stand on top of the log, I see her hesitate. It’s obvious from her stock-still posture that her rational mind is finally catching up to the insane stunt she’s volunteered to do. Her chest rises in a deep breath, and she takes her first step.

Every instinct I have roars that I should keep the Omega safe. Pull her back, tackle her to the ground if I have to. It’s a massive effort to allow her to take the next step.

Brooklyn keeps her slender arms outward, graceful as a ballerina. Each step is small but meticulous, her foot carefully set on the path ahead. My chest feels tight, watching her go. When she reaches the middle, she pauses, and I think for a moment she’s going to lose her nerve.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she looks back at me and flashes the most incredible grin I’ve ever seen. It’s triumph and pride, and it makes my heart skip a beat.

I smile back, giving her a thumbs up. I don’t trust myself to speak and distract her right now.

She takes her time on the second half, finally hopping safely off on the other side. On solid ground again, she throws her arms up like an Olympic gymnast finishing a crazy ass routine. I stifle a laugh at her display.

“Your turn!” she shouts back at me.

Fuck. Well, that’s it for anything funny about this situation. My stomach threatens to rebel against me, thinking about making the crossing myself. It’s too late to second guess myself, though. I’ve got no choice but to follow her.

Brooklyn and I are still connected by the rope around our waists. Part of me wants to keep that leash on her, making sure she doesn’t run again. But I picture the log giving out from under me, her weight pulled helplessly into the abyss as we both plummet down. The image of her broken body splayed against the rocks makes my nausea even worse.

“Untie yourself and wrap the rope around that tree,” I instruct, pointing to a thick maple behind her. “You can’t hold my weight by yourself.”

She nods, looping the rope three times around the maple trunk, securing it in a surprisingly complicated knot. I’m as safe as I possibly can be with a rotted old tree between me and a hundred foot fall.

I don’t even bother trying to stand on the log. It’s better for me to crawl, distributing my heavier weight more evenly. Hopefully, I can keep my eyes on the solid trunk below me, not on the sheer drop of air.

With a few deep breaths to settle my nerves, I crawl onto the log. It’s a little less wide than my shoulders, making me feel unsteady on it already. My limbs feel like lead as I begin to move them, only daring to bring myself forward a few inches at a time. In my head, I try to imagine a big net below me, ready to catch me. I know that the longer I stay out here, the more likely the log is to give under my weight. I can’t afford to hesitate.

Inch by inch, I move. The process is painfully slow, and the temptation to look to the depths below me is almost too hard to resist. I force myself to watch my own hands. My palms are sweaty and slippery, a bad sign. I wish I could wipe them on my shirt, but I don’t dare mess with my stability.

I’ve crossed literal minefields without feeling terror like this. It takes all my training and discipline to keep myself from spiraling. I move my hand an inch, then another. I fortify the imaginary net hanging below me with double, stronger strands. It’ll be fine if I just keep going. It’s all going to be okay.

Until a piece of rotted bark gives out from under my hand, tumbling into the ravine below.

Fuck.

I’m gonna fall. This whole log will just collapse out from under me, and my body will plummet downward, smashing open on those pointy rocks. I can’t believe this is how I die. Not on the battlefield, but on American soil, chasing after an Omega who doesn’t even want to be caught. It’s all pointless. In some distant part of my mind, I’m aware that this is just my fear talking. But my body’s not convinced. My arms quake with panic, trembling so hard I can barely keep my body from collapsing into the wood. My breath comes in fast, shallow pants, blood thundering in my ears.

This is the end.

Until I feel a tug on the rope. Small, not enough to destabilize me, but definitely there.

“You got this.” Brooklyn’s quiet voice reassures me from the other side. “Not much further now. Keep going.”

She brings me back to the world. I allow my body a few seconds to handle the adrenaline, and I finally manage to move. Just a few inches forward, hand followed by knee. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I manage it, thanks to Brooklyn. She broke through to me and kept me alive.

I raise my gaze to thank her, just in time to see her dark hair as she disappears into the trees ahead.