Chapter Eight – Jess
The next morning, Asher is up before me, making pancakes. He tosses a glance over his shoulder and asks, “Want some?”
I grab a glass and fill it up with water. “You don’t have to make me breakfast. I can—”
He won’t take no for an answer, clearly, because he quickly says, “I already started. I mean, I had to throw a few out because they were either over or undercooked, but I think I got the hang of it now. Seems a waste to practice my skills and not share the wealth.”
I slip onto one of the stools on the other side of the island and say, “Sure. I’ll take some pancakes, then.” As I sip from the glass, I think about last night. I messed up my sleep schedule, so I was awake most of the night. By the time I finally went to bed, Mason was still brooding on the couch.
It’s crazy to me how he and Asher are related. I know shared blood doesn’t mean you’re automatically the same, but you’d think there would be slightly more similarities between them, besides the blond hair.
“I talked to your brother last night.” I only said this after I made sure said brother wasn’t around. He isn’t; I don’t know where he is right now. If I have to guess, he’s off skulking somewhere by himself.
My statement makes Asher whirl around with his eyebrows raised. “You what? Why? Don’t tell me he tried something with you—”
“No,” I say. “No, that’s not… that’s not what happened.
I came out for something to drink and I found him on the couch.
He was pretty ticked off. He’s mean, but it’s kind of funny.
” I suppose it’s not so funny to people who take things like that seriously or personally, but I’m not that kind of omega.
I can go toe-to-toe with the best of them.
“I’m glad you find his attitude funny.” Asher frowns somewhat, and the expression doesn’t sit well on his handsome face.
Whoa. Handsome? Need to slap myself when I’m alone. I cannot call Asher handsome. Or his brother, for that matter. Calling either of them handsome would only lead me to trouble, and trouble is already something I have enough of right now.
“Has he always been like that?” I ask, mostly trying to distract myself from how nice the alpha’s face is.
Not just his face, really. His whole body. He’s the epitome of what an alpha should look like. He definitely grew up well, let’s just say. I’m honestly shocked he’s not in a pack with an omega already. Mason, on the other hand, I can definitely see why he’s alone.
“Yes and no,” Asher says after a while. He flips the pancake he’s currently making.
“He’s always been standoffish, ever since he presented, but…
I don’t know. Lately he’s gotten worse. Our parents have been on him lately, not only to find a career he likes but also to find a pack. They think he’s…” He quiets.
But I’m too curious to let it go. “They think he’s what?”
“Close to going feral.” The words are the last thing an omega wants to hear, especially an omega so close to her heat, but what he says next alleviates some of that concern: “But I’m not so sure. I think it’s something else, I just don’t know what.”
“Have you tried talking to him about it?”
“Of course I have, but he’s not really one for heart-to-heart discussions about his feelings.
” His shoulders slump somewhat, and I take it to mean he’s really worried about the well-being of his older brother.
“He’s been closed-off for years. He doesn’t tell anyone anything, even our parents, not anymore. He acts like he’s alone.”
Feeling alone is something I can understand, because I have been alone this whole time.
For the last ten years, at least. My whole world changed, I changed, and when I came back a different person, everyone acted like I was a stranger.
Kids are cruel, even if they eventually grow up into decent alphas, like Asher.
But I don’t bring that up. For some stupid reason, it still hurts, like the wound is raw—which is almost funny. I thought there was no way for that particular wound to still feel so fresh, but being around Asher brought me back to a time I’d rather forget.
I don’t say anything to him after that, and thankfully he drops the subject. Just as well. Shortly after I’m handed a plate with two pancakes on it, and he asks, “Butter or syrup?”
“Nah,” I say, grabbing the fork and digging in, much to the horror of the alpha watching me, apparently. Seriously, Asher stares at me like I just popped out a third eye in the middle of my forehead. “What?” I ask him with my mouth full.
“Nothing. I just… I’ve never seen someone eat pancakes without syrup or butter before. Aren’t they dry?”
“No?”
“Wow. You are,” he pauses, “so weird for that. Like, I don’t know if I can let you stay here anymore.”
When he deadpans that, I have to laugh. “Is it that bad for you? Would it make you feel better if I drenched my plate in syrup after slathering the pancakes in butter?”
“I mean, not going to lie, yeah. At least butter.”
I’m still giggling when I say, “You are so weird for that. How I eat is how I eat. If I wanted to add fat and sugar to it, I would, but I don’t, so—”
“You probably need more fat and sugar right now.”
It’s that off-handed comment, said in good jest, that makes me nearly choke on the pancake in my mouth. Though he didn’t say it outright, he damn near referenced it with what he did say.
My heat is coming up. Typically omegas will load up on calories right beforehand, because sometimes they’re so lost in the heat and the passion and the pain that the last thing they can think of is fueling their bodies.
Or so that’s what we’re told in school. Since I’ve never experienced a heat yet, I can’t say whether or not it really is like that, but it would be a weird thing for them to lie about.
Asher instantly regrets that comment, and he sends me an apologetic look as he says, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what I was thinking. If you want to eat your pancakes plain, then you should eat them plain. I won’t judge.”
“I think it’s too late on the judging part,” I say with a shrug, acting as though it’s no big deal. It’s not, not really, but even now his comment lingers in the back of my mind, along with everything he said about his brother.
Can I really trust them to keep to themselves when the time comes? I don’t know. I can’t see the future. Asher’s parents think Mason is close to losing his mind and going feral, but Asher thinks it’s something else.
What if it’s not? What if I’m sharing this cabin with a nearly-feral alpha? The thought is a little nerve-wracking, but at this point, it’s too late to turn back. I have nowhere else to go, no one else I trust. Heck, I don’t even really trust Asher, not after everything.
I don’t know what’s going to happen. The only thing I can do is wait and see.
It sucks.
Asher makes himself some pancakes, and by the time he sits down beside me, I’m mostly done with mine. He, of course, lathers his up in butter and then fills the plate with syrup. Yuck. I watch him and his routine like he’s an alien.
And he is, because ew.
“What’s your plan for the day?” he asks as he cuts himself a piece of his mess.
“I don’t know. Maybe go for a walk.”
“I can go with you—”
“Don’t you have classes to keep up with?”
He seems to think on this. “Yeah, but my classes can wait.”
I shake my head. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. You don’t have any close neighbors. I think I can handle taking a walk by myself.”
The look he gives me tells me he’s not so sure about that. “Might not have neighbors, but there are bears out there. Wolves, too.” If he’s trying to scare me from going on a walk by my lonesome, he’s failing, and he’s failing spectacularly.
Animals don’t scare me. Nothing scares me anymore. That instinct, the one that normally would help keep you alive, stopped working correctly for me the same night my parents got into that accident. The same night I got some brain damage and lost my sense of smell.
“I think I can handle myself out there.” I can tell he’s about to argue with me, but the last thing I want is for us to go for a romantic walk through the woods together.
Thoughts of him being handsome might resurface, and I don’t want that.
“I promise if I come across any big piles of shit or hear howls in the distance, I’ll come right home. ”
I made it clear I will not be persuaded, so all Asher can do is sigh and say, “Okay, but you should take some bear spray just in case. You never know when you might come across something—or when something will come across you. You’d be surprised at how easily they can blend in with their surroundings. ”
I finish my pancakes before I ask, “You have a lot of experience with wild animals out here?”
“No, but my parents always made sure me and my brother knew the dangers of the wilderness. It’s always better to be safe than sorry when it comes to wild animals that can rip you to shreds, even if you’re an alpha.
Black bears are smaller, easier to scare away, but brown bears?
You see one of those…” He looks at me like he’s psychically trying to change my mind about going alone.
“Are you sure you want to go for a walk?”
“How many brown bears have you seen around here?”
“None, but that doesn’t mean they’re not out there.”
“I won’t go too far from the house,” I promise him. “I’ll be fine.”
Asher doesn’t want to let me go, but after a while he says, “There’s a lake not too far from here. A mile or so west. If you want, I can take you there one day.”
A mountain lake. That does sound pretty. “Okay, sounds like a plan—not today, though. I’m going on a little hike to clear my head, and like I said, I will turn right around if I detect I’m being stalked by any scary animals.”
He sighs. “Okay.”
I sit with him while he finishes his breakfast, and then I help him clean up the kitchen. He shows me where they keep the bear spray, along with hiking boots that are technically his mom’s. They fit, so I borrow them, along with a thin jacket.