Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
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Her bags are packed, and she triple checked to make sure she had everything she needed and more.
Her Heat isn’t due for another three weeks, but she also packed for that, just in case.
She doesn’t know what could happen that would trigger it, but she doesn’t want to be in a new place with no access to nesting blankets or heating pads.
Her Heats have always been more of a nuisance than anything—a few days of arousal and cramps with mood swings.
Even her scent isn’t strong—she’s been told it’s akin to peaches and lilies, but it’s so subtle that most people don’t notice it.
She’s one of the lucky ones. Being an Omega, physiologically, hasn’t been that difficult for her.
It’s the designation and the pressure to find an Alpha that’s the frustrating part .
If she was a Beta, she doubts her mother or Carl would have protested about her going to Green Woods by herself.
If she was a Beta, her life would be a lot easier.
And maybe she wouldn’t always be wearing sweaters to hide the inside of her arms.
Green Woods is spectacular.
She huffs out a delighted laugh when she pulls into the driveway of the renovated cabin she rented, amazed at the surrounding beauty.
The sky is overcast and white, making the rich green of the trees that surround her vibrant. The chilly air smells of eucalyptus and pine, and a light icy breeze ruffles her hair.
She passed an antique shop and a café on her way to the cabin, and she knows she’ll be frequenting both places almost daily.
She also drove by the closed Green Woods Facility where Doctor Porter used to work. The dreary building sticks out among the quaint cabins and sprawling evergreens, and she’s thankful the building is permanently closed.
Maybe the town will be able to turn it into a library.
The smile doesn’t leave Bree’s face.
There are so many stories to tell here, she just knows it.
How many secrets are kept in these woods?
She wants to know them all.
She bounces on her heels with excitement when she opens the lockbox on the front door to get the cabin key. The owner of the cabin emailed her the code when she booked the place online, and she has no trouble unlocking the door.
When the light wood entrance swings open, she smiles wide.
It’s a two-story cabin, recently renovated with polished floors and rich wood paneling. The kitchen is modern with white cabinets and a marble island, along with a sleek titanium fridge. To her right is a red brick fireplace and a plush cream couch. The windows are massive, giving a breathtaking view of the woods outside.
Bree rented this place for a steal. Apparently, no one wants to stay in Green Woods at the moment except for her.
Their loss , she thinks.
Upstairs has two rooms—one is an office, with a desk that spans almost the entire wall. Bookshelves line the opposite walls, and a grin spreads across her face as she takes it all in.
It’s her dream office.
But the bedroom is the best part.
The canopy four post bed is in wood so dark it’s almost black, and the pristine white sheets are ridiculously soft to the touch. A small desk, much tinier than the one in the adjacent room, sits near it, with a matching upholstered chair.
She groans as she lies on the mattress, the plush material sinking in only slightly as it caresses her body like a cloud.
The attached bathroom has a generous glass shower and a white claw-foot bathtub next to it, big enough to fit at least two people.
The view from the upstairs windows is exquisite, showcasing the lush trees and the cabins dotted in between them.
As she unpacks, her phones buzzes with a text from her mother.
Checking in. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you what to do. I know you’re an adult and you make your own choices.
Her smile falters.
Her mother is trying. The least she can do is try, too.
I know. I’m sorry too. I made it here safe. Will text you tomorrow .
But the bitterness of the guilt stays with her as she continues unpacking.
She places her nesting blankets in the walk-in closet and is surprised to find piles of extra blankets on the shelves.
In fact, she would rent this place just to have her Heat. It’s safe, relaxing, luxurious…
She lets the thought fade away.
She’s not going into Heat here.
But she still drapes some extra blankets on the bed just because she can.
She’s sitting at the desk in the office, watching the sunset, when there’s a knock at the door.
She freezes. She’s not expecting anyone, and the only people that know she’s in Green Woods are Carl and her mother.
There’s another knock.
Grabbing her phone, she heads down the stairs and to the door. With the generous window space, she sees a frowning middle-aged man in a plaid shirt and jeans.
He knocks again, more insistent.
With a huff, she unlatches the lock and opens the door.
The Beta man clearly wasn’t expecting her, and his frown turns into a deep scowl. “Oh. Are you Helene’s daughter?” he demands, wobbling on his feet. The stench of alcohol wafts off him so strongly that Bree wrinkles her nose.
“No,” she says. “I’m not.”
“You staying here?” he asks angrily. “Helene is renting her place right now?”
“Yes, I’m staying here,” she confirms, then adds as an afterthought, “with my husband.”
She’ll be damned if this man knows that she’s here alone .
“Oh.” He steadies himself and his bloodshot eyes meet hers. “You should be careful, you know. We’re not taking any tourists right now. Not with that inmate killing the Omega.”
He says it pointedly while staring at her neck, and Bree swallows nervously.
It feels like a violation, the way his eyes lock onto her mating gland. It’s invasive, and the look on his face makes something in her gut churn.
“Okay,” she replies, because what else is she supposed to say? She isn’t leaving Green Woods until she conducts that interview.
“Helene shouldn’t have done that,” the man continues, as if talking to himself. “She knows better.”
“We’ll be fine. Thank you.” She begins to shut the door, and the older man sputters.
“Wait! Did your husband do that to you?” the man points at her arm, and Bree flinches.
She didn’t put on a sweater before she answered the door. Fuck.
“Goodnight,” she blurts, shutting the door and locking it before he can say anything else. Then, she grabs one of the knitted throws off the couch, wraps it around her shoulders, and heads back upstairs.
She enters the office and sits at the desk, watching as the man walks away, muttering to himself.
She can’t see a car. He must have walked here, which means he lives close, much to her chagrin.
Opening her laptop, she shoots an email to the property owner, detailing her encounter.
She can practically hear Carl in her head saying I told you so.
Maybe she shouldn’t have come here alone despite how beautiful Green Woods is .
But she told the guy that she’s with her husband, so maybe he won’t bother her.
She wraps the throw tighter around herself, frustrated that he saw a part of her she keeps hidden.
The scars are jagged and still an ugly deep pink, despite being from years ago.
They didn’t heal the way she had hoped, and they’re usually the first thing people notice besides her mating gland.
And unfortunately, her creepy neighbor saw them.
She shakes her head and heads into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and eyeing the pink succulent on the desk.
At the last minute, she decided to take it with her. Dorothy was kind to her, and the gift was heartfelt.
She reaches out to brush one of the dainty leaves and strokes it between her thumb and forefinger.
She’s never been great with plants. Thankfully, succulents are almost impossible to kill, according to both Dorothy and the internet.
She planned on taking a long, luxurious bath, but after her encounter from earlier, she opts for a hot shower, steam billowing off the white tiles and fogging the mirrors.
By the time she’s out and wrapped in her robe, her stress from earlier is all but forgotten.
She takes her suppressants, readies for bed, and pulls down the comforter and covers. But before she climbs into bed, she locks the bedroom door, and jiggles the handle for good measure to make sure it’s truly locked.
Nothing and no one will ruin this trip for her.
Not even creepy drunk neighbors.