Chapter 2
T he next morning was awkward, but not insurmountably so. We sat in silence a good chunk of the day as we ice fished on a lake we’d found, though we ended up going back to camp empty-handed. I didn’t film a full video of the process like I usually would, not with him in a mood.
I took a break partway through and got some amazing photos of white-furred weasels poking their heads out of the snow, and some red foxes wandering the edge of the lake to check us out from a safe distance. They were definitely good enough shots I could add them to the collection for the calendars I’d been planning.
I spent a bit of time filming some pieces for voice-overs that were close-ups of some rose hips I’d found in the snow and could take back to camp to make some tea with. Foraging options were pretty scarce this time of year, but I’d take what I could get.
“Do you want me to hold the camera to get you in those shots?” Brandon asked, poking his head out of the little tent we were using as a wind shield.
“That’s okay. It’s nothing too exciting.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry I was a dick yesterday. I just don’t want you to go.”
“It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but I didn’t want to pick a fight.
I couldn’t feel bad for wanting to move on with my life, no matter how much Brandon might protest. I was twenty-seven and surrounded by people who didn’t really know me, and, I was pretty sure, they didn’t actually want to anyway. It was much more a tenuous alliance built out of familiarity. Surely the city couldn’t be any lonelier?
Honestly, my actual ideal would be a gorgeous cabin in the middle of nowhere, but with great Internet. The solitude of the woods was so peaceful, and I could take photos of animals and gorgeous landscapes until I died. I wanted people to see the beauty in the quiet spaces. The national parks were incredible, and I loved them, but they weren’t the only gorgeous views on offer.
Back in our toasty tent, I lay on my cot, reading the latest post from one of my favorite wilderness blogs: Does a Bear Shoot in the Woods by Bear Mackenzie. This one was on indigenous hunting techniques. The only shooting I was interested in doing myself was with my camera, but maybe it was my desire to live in the woods that kept me learning about some of the things that it would take to survive out there. I’d been reading Bear’s blog for years, learning about local wild foods, animals, hunting, fishing, and recipes.
It seemed so idyllic. Maybe one day that would be me.
“Dinner looks about ready,” said Brandon, poking at our chili in the pot.
“Perfect.” I sat up and accepted a bowl, blowing on it so I didn’t scald my mouth.
He sat down next to me, crowding me to the end of the cot. “What’s your plan, Morgan?”
“For what?” I set my bowl aside, leaning away from him.
“Us.”
I blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
“You’re pushing thirty and you’ve been stringing me along for a fucking decade. It’s getting old. I’m not going to wait around forever and I need to know that we’re something before you leave.”
“I’m not asking you to wait around. In what universe have I been stringing you along?”
“In this one ,” he snapped. “Jesus, Morgan. Don’t be stupid.”
I curled into myself. “I’ve said no every single time you’ve asked me out.”
“And then nothing changed. How am I supposed to take you seriously?”
I stared at him for a long moment, unsure what exactly he wanted me to say. “What was supposed to change?”
“ You were supposed to change. You don’t want to be with me? Then stop fucking treating me like I’m important and acting like you want to be around me.”
“Are you serious? You’re mad because I continued to treat you like a friend and not a pariah?”
“God, you’re such a fucking cunt.”
His words caught me off guard, my heart racing at the sharpness in his tone.
“They were right telling me not to bother with you. Everyone said you had a stick up your ass and were too frigid for me to hope for that to change.” Brandon shot to his feet, towering over me and making me want to slink beneath the cot for some modicum of a shield between us.
“That’s not fair.”
Brandon growled. I had never been afraid of him before, but that sound set every little hair standing on end. “You know what’s actually not fair, Morg? You spending days in the woods alone with me. What kind of message do you think you’re sending to literally everyone we know?”
“That I trust you?” I swallowed hard, all of that trust melting away. “No one else likes winter camping with us and I don’t want to go by myself.”
He let out a bitter laugh.
“You like camping,” I insisted. “That’s why I invite you.”
Brandon snorted.
“I’m serious. If I thought you hated this, I would never ask you.”
“And then what fucking chance would you give me?”
I chewed my lip. I probably wouldn’t see much of him at all outside of group settings if that were the case, though at this point not seeing him ever again was sounding like a pretty good deal.
“See? I’m good enough to hold your camera and be your little camping bitch, but not good enough for you to let me get my dick wet.” He huffed. “Omegas are supposed to be sluts, but your legs are like fucking Fort Knox. What do I have to do to get in there, Morg?”
Alarm bells screamed in my head, my omega instincts sending panic surging through my body.
Get out. Now!
“You don’t have to do anything. I don’t want to sleep with you.”
“ Why ? What’s so terrible about me that you can’t give me what you owe me for putting up with your bullshit all these years?”
I ground my teeth together, suppressing a whine that wanted to escape. I didn’t want him to know I was afraid, not when I wasn’t confident he would back down because of it. “Let’s get some sleep. We can go home in the morning.”
He paused, staring down at me like I was the dirt beneath his shoe. “I don’t know why you think it’s funny to mess with my head like this, but I’ve been more than patient. I’m done playing this game.”
I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, and I didn’t want to risk asking. “I’m going to go for a walk while you take some time to cool down.” I hopped up, hastily pulling on my snowsuit and shoving my feet into my boots.
He grabbed my arms, holding tight enough to bruise. “Just once . Come on, it’s not like I’m some troll. I’ll make it fun for you.”
I swallowed hard, cringing away from him. “Brandon, let me go. I don’t want to.”
Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.
He shoved me hard and I went ass over feet, almost crashing into the stove. “Go fuck yourself, Morg. You can’t stay out there forever.”
I scrambled out of the tent, heart pounding, and hid behind a tree, leaning up against it to do up my boots properly and secure my snowsuit against the icy wind of the night. I patted my pockets for my phone before cussing myself out for having left it in the tent.
Realistically, it would be impossible for me to stay out here all night, but I didn’t want to go back inside while he was making himself a threat. Where had all those opinions about omegas come from? He’d never said anything like that around me before. If he had, I never would have invited him camping. That was probably why he’d kept quiet about it.
I had always tried to be so clear. Every time he brought it up, I told him I wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship, but that I valued his friendship and would be happy to continue it. How was that stringing him along? If I’d kicked him to the curb, I wouldn’t have had any friends at all. I knew they’d choose him over me—everyone always chose someone else—and maybe his attraction to me was the only reason they’d kept me at all over the years…
It wasn’t just Brandon. Not a single alpha I knew tempted me. The thought of being with any of them, of ever having a heat and risking a pregnancy that would trap me in our small town forever…I’d rather lie down and die on the mountainside.
I walked until I couldn’t see camp anymore and then sat down in a snow drift. I hadn’t grabbed my snowshoes, and sinking in to my knees with every step slowed my progress. Tears slipped down my cheeks and I buried my face in my mittens so they didn’t freeze on my face. What the fuck was I supposed to do? I couldn’t give him what he wanted and the last thing I could cope with was him trying to take it because I was an easy target out here. My best bet was probably to wait him out, and hopefully by the time I was forced back inside, he’d be in a better mood. At sunrise we could head back and end this apparent farce of a friendship for good.
The day caught up with me, exhaustion weighing me down. I drifted in and out of sleep leaning against a huge pine tree. When my fingertips started to go numb, I pulled my aching body back to standing. I didn’t want to think about what was awaiting me back at camp. I was definitely not taking my snowsuit off no matter how hot it was in the tent. The extra layers were armor.
I half walked, half crawled my way back up the trail and came upon our campsite partially dismantled with Brandon throwing things. The tent was down and the stove kicked over, charred wood scattered across the snow.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“You don’t want to be out here with me? Fine. I’m not putting up with your goddamn bullshit for another minute.”
“Brandon, it’s almost sunset. It’s a four-hour walk out of here. You can’t just leave.”
He growled. “Watch me.”
“Can we please talk?”
“You open your mouth one more time and I’m going to fill it the way I should’ve been doing all these years.”
I clamped my lips together and backed up.
He shoved everything haphazardly onto the sleds and I watched in silence, too freaked out to say a word. It would be pitch black well before we got anywhere near where the truck was parked, and that was assuming we didn’t get lost on the way. It had been snowing lightly since we’d arrived so our trail was already obscured. I wouldn’t have any choice but to follow him since he’d ripped down the tent. I couldn’t stay out here alone with no shelter.
Brandon set off at a quick pace, not even packing everything or waiting for me to get my sled hitched up.
My snowshoes were nowhere to be found and Brandon was already disappearing down the trail.
“Hey! Wait!” I clambered after him, sinking up to my knees with every step. “Fuck.”
Sweating and exhausted, I followed as fast as I could, but he was on snowshoes and he wasn’t even pretending to keep a slow pace to accommodate for his much longer legs. The sun rapidly disappeared, drenching the forest in shadows.
I didn’t have a flashlight or my phone or anything that might give me a chance out here. Not even moonlight could help me as the gentle snow picked up, the clouds blocking out the sky.
“Brandon!” I yelled out, too desperate to find him to worry about what mood he might be in when I did.
Only silence answered me.
Fear of a different kind slowly crept in as I realized I was completely alone in the woods with no supplies.
I took a deep breath and whispered to myself, “Okay, let’s not freak out.”
That was easier said than done. It had been a four-hour hike out here with snowshoes, which meant it was probably double that or more to get back without them, and I was already exhausted and aching.
“Brandon!” I screamed. “Where are you?”
The silence continued, stretching deep into the forest. He wouldn’t leave me out here…would he?