Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Artemis
Iwoke to silence.
Not the comfortable silence of a peaceful morning, but the heavy, pressing silence that followed catastrophe. The wind had stopped. The rain had stopped. Even the cabin seemed to be holding its breath.
I sat up slowly, blinking in the gray light filtering through the cracks in the boarded windows, and took stock of my situation.
Three Alphas were still asleep around me—Harper near the door, one arm thrown over his eyes; Remy sprawled in the middle of the floor, his blanket kicked off sometime in the night; Silas against the wall, so still he might have been carved from stone if not for the slow rise and fall of his chest.
Gumbo was watching me from his corner, his ancient gaze alert and knowing.
"Morning, big guy." I whispered, carefully extracting myself from my nest of blankets on the couch, my bare feet finding the cool wooden floor. "Storm's over?" I asked him softly, padding toward the window.
He rumbled low in his throat—an affirmative, I thought, though with Gumbo it was always hard to tell. I peeled back the edge of one board and peered outside, my stomach dropping at what I saw.
Water. Everywhere.
The bayou had risen overnight, swallowing the dock, the yard, the dirt road that led to civilization.
My cabin sat on slightly elevated ground—Marguerite had chosen the spot wisely—but we were surrounded by at least two feet of murky brown water in every direction.
The cypress trees stood like sentinels in a flooded world, their trunks disappearing into the still surface.
"Well." I let the board fall back into place, turning to find Silas awake and watching me with that unnerving gray stare. "We're not going anywhere for a while." I said, keeping my voice light despite the tight feeling in my chest.
"How bad?" Silas asked, rising in one fluid motion, his movements silent even on the creaky floorboards as he crossed to stand beside me.
"Two feet, at least. Maybe more on the road." I stepped back so he could look for himself, watching his expression harden as he assessed the situation with military precision. "Could be days before it drains enough to drive out." I added, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth.
"Seen worse." Silas let the board drop, his silver gaze finding mine in the dim light. "Cabin held. Generator's got fuel. We've got food." He paused, something softer than usual crossing his sharp features. "We've got each other." He finished quietly.
Before I could respond, a groan came from the floor.
"Please tell me someone made coffee." Remy's voice was muffled, his face pressed into his pillow, his dark curls a wild mess against the white fabric. "I'll do anything. I'll fight the gator. I'll kiss Harper. Just... coffee." He pleaded, one hand reaching blindly toward the kitchen.
"You'll what now?" Harper's rumble came from near the door, gruff with sleep but carrying a note of amusement that surprised me.
Remy's head shot up, his golden eyes wide with horror as he realized what he'd said.
"I was asleep. That doesn't count. Nothing said before coffee counts.
" He scrambled to sit up, his cheeks flushing a deep rose as he looked between Harper and me.
"House rules. I'm making that a house rule right now.
" He declared, pointing at each of us in turn.
I laughed—the sound escaping before I could stop it. The absurdity of the situation hit me all at once: stranded in a flooded cabin with three Alphas and an alligator, and Remy's biggest concern was his pre-coffee filter.
"I'll make coffee." I headed toward the kitchen, pausing to squeeze Remy's shoulder as I passed. "And for the record, I'd pay good money to see that kiss." I teased, grinning when both Alphas made identical sounds of protest.
The camp stove worked well enough, and soon the smell of brewing coffee filled the cabin—a small comfort in the midst of chaos. I stood at the kitchen window, the one Harper hadn't boarded, watching the flooded world beyond the glass while I waited for the water to boil.
"How long?" Harper appeared in the doorway, his massive frame taking up most of the space, his dark hair still mussed from sleep in a way that made him look younger, less guarded.
"Could be two days. Could be four." I turned to face him, leaning against the counter and crossing my arms. "Depends on how fast the water drains and whether there's more rain coming." I explained, watching him process the information with that serious, steady focus.
"Four days." Harper repeated, something complicated moving behind his deep brown gaze as he glanced back toward the living room where Remy was attempting to reclaim his pillow from Gumbo—and losing badly. "All of us. Together." He added, his voice dropping lower.
"Is that a problem?" I asked carefully, searching his face for any sign of discomfort.
"No." Harper said it simply, firmly, his stare meeting mine with an intensity that made my pulse stutter.
"Opposite of a problem." He closed the distance between us in two strides, his large hands finding my hips and pulling me against his chest. "Wanted this.
Didn't know how to ask for it." He admitted, his voice rough against my hair as he pressed his nose to my temple.
"You could have just asked." I wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling the tension he carried in his muscles, the way he held himself like he was always braced for impact. "I would have said yes." I murmured against his chest.
"Didn't know that." Harper's arms tightened around me, and I felt him inhale deeply, scenting me in that unconscious Alpha way that still made my omega instincts hum with pleasure. "Know it now." He rumbled, satisfaction coloring his low voice.
A shriek from the living room made us both turn.
"He took my pillow!" Remy stood in the middle of the room, pointing accusingly at Gumbo, who had indeed claimed Remy's pillow and was now resting his massive head on it with an expression of pure reptilian smugness.
"That's my pillow! I brought that from home!
" Remy protested, his voice climbing with indignation.
"Looks like his pillow now." Silas observed from his spot by the window, not bothering to hide the amusement in his usually flat voice.
"You could try to take it back." I suggested, fighting to keep a straight face as I watched Remy eye the nine-foot alligator with obvious trepidation. "He might let you." I offered, knowing full well Gumbo would do no such thing.
Remy looked at me, looked at Gumbo, looked at the pillow, and let out a dramatic sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his soul.
"Fine. Keep it. But I want it noted that I'm being very gracious about this.
" He announced, pointing a finger at the gator before turning on his heel and stalking toward the kitchen.
"Is that coffee ready? I need coffee to deal with pillow thieves.
" He demanded, brushing past Harper to reach the stove.
The morning settled into a strange sort of rhythm.
We took turns looking out the windows, assessing the flood, calculating how long we might be stuck.
Remy made breakfast—eggs and bacon from the cooler, toast on the camp stove—and complained loudly about having to cook on camping equipment while somehow producing a meal that was better than anything I could have managed.
"How's your boat?" Harper asked between bites, his focus fixed on me across the makeshift breakfast circle we'd formed on the living room floor.
"The pirogue?" I glanced toward the boarded window, as if I could see through it to where Silas had secured my small boat the day before. "Should be fine. Silas tied it down." I said, nodding toward the quiet Alpha who was eating his eggs with methodical precision.
"Could use it to check the roads. See how bad it is." Silas said, setting down his fork and meeting my gaze with that unnerving directness. "If you'd let me borrow it." He added, a hint of question in his flat tone.
"You want to paddle through a flood to check on roads you can't drive on anyway?" Remy raised an eyebrow, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth as he stared at Silas with disbelief.
"Want to know what we're dealing with." Silas shrugged one shoulder, unbothered by Remy's skepticism. "Could be downed trees. Power lines. Things we'd need to clear before we can leave." He explained, his attention scanning the room like he was already planning the route.
"He's not wrong." Harper nodded slowly, a muscle jumping in his cheek as he considered the situation. "Better to know than to guess." He agreed, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
"Fine, but you're not going alone." I set down my plate, giving Silas a look that brooked no argument. "I know these waters. You don't." I told him firmly.
"You're not—" Harper started, his protective instincts clearly rearing up, his body tensing as he leaned forward.
"Don't." I held up a hand, cutting him off before he could finish.
"I've been paddling this bayou since I was twelve.
I know every current, every shallow, every spot where the water likes to trick you.
Silas goes alone, he could end up in trouble.
We go together, we come back safe." I explained, keeping my voice calm but leaving no room for argument.
Harper's expression tightened, but he didn't push back. Progress.
"I'll stay here." Remy offered, though his tawny gaze was pinched with worry as he looked between me and the flooded world outside. "Keep an eye on the cabin. Make sure Gumbo doesn't steal anything else." He joked weakly, glancing at the gator who was still contentedly hogging his stolen pillow.