Chapter 15
JUNE
Sunlight filters through the curtains, warm across my face, and for a moment, I just lie here, suspended in that hazy space between sleep and waking. My body feels heavy and satisfied. There’s a comforting ache between my thighs that has me blushing even though no one’s watching.
I reach out instinctively, palm pressing against cool sheets besides me, and my stomach dips. Carter’s gone. Again. Just like before, I’ve woken up alone without—
My fingers brush paper.
I roll over, squinting against the light, and find a folded note propped against my phone on the nightstand. I grab it and push up onto one elbow, sheets pooling around my waist.
The paper is slightly creased, like it’s been handled too many times. When I unfold it, I recognize Carter’s handwriting immediately from last night, messy and slanted.
But this isn’t the same poem from last night. He finished it.
You make the quiet louder—the kind I used to drown out.
Now I want to sit in it, if you’re sitting there too.
Before you, I was running from a silence that felt like drowning.
Now I think I could stay still forever, if staying still meant staying with you.
My heart flutters in my chest, beating faster, harder, a rhythm that seems to pulse his name. Carter. Carter. Carter.
I press the paper to my chest and just breathe for a moment, inhaling the lingering scent of him in my sheets, as though he’s somehow seeped into the fabric, into the mattress, into me.
I’m smiling so wide my cheeks hurt, and I don’t even care that I probably look ridiculous lying here grinning at a piece of paper like it contains the secrets of the universe.
Maybe the secret is just this—someone really seeing you, and putting it into words you’ll carry forever.
The last thing I remember is falling asleep in his arms, his body still buried deep inside me, knotted together in a way I’d only ever read about.
I’d never experienced knotting before. Never let anyone close enough to try.
I always assumed it would be painful, clinical, some biological function to endure rather than enjoy.
I was so wrong.
It was intimate in a way that made me feel cracked open. Vulnerable and safe at the same time. The stretch and fullness, yes, but more than that—the way our bodies locked together, the bond humming between us, connecting us so deeply that I felt his heartbeat as if it were my own.
Even now, hours later, I feel him as if he’s still part of me somehow.
Which is when the panic hits.
My hand flies to my neck, fingers pressing against the tender skin just above my collarbone. The bite mark is there—raised and slightly warm, unmistakable. Carter’s mating mark.
Oh, shit.
I sit up so fast the room spins. The sheet falls away, and I’m suddenly very aware of being naked, of the evidence of last night scattered across the floor in the form of clothes and the lingering scent of sex.
Not only did I sleep with him, but I also asked him to bite me.
What was I thinking?
My fingers trace the mark again, and even that light touch sends warmth flooding through me.
A tug in my chest, an awareness that tells me exactly where he is even though I can’t see him.
Downstairs, maybe. The bond stretches between us like an invisible thread.
A low hum of want has me pressing my thighs together.
Our bond is permanent.
A mating mark isn’t something you can undo. It’s not a tattoo you can laser off or a ring you can remove when things get complicated. But a bond that ties you to someone for the rest of your life, soul-deep and unbreakable.
And I asked for it. Begged for it, actually, if I’m being honest. I remember the words tumbling out of my mouth between kisses, desperate and certain: Do it. I want it so badly.
At the time, it felt right. Inevitable. Like we were always going to end up here.
But now, in the cold light of morning, reality crashes in.
What happens when the rodeo circuit moves to the next town?
Carter, Seth, and Kai—they don’t stay anywhere for too long. That’s the whole point of the circuit. They travel from place to place, chasing competitions and prize money and the open road. In two or three weeks, they’ll pack up and move on to the next arena, the next adventure.
Will they expect me to go with them? Leave Honeyspur Meadow behind, the town I love, the business I’ve built, the life I’ve fought to keep even when my parents tried to drag me to Dallas?
Or will they just… leave me?
My chest squeezes, the bond seems to be buzzing with something that feels like distress. Can Carter feel this? Can he sense my panic bleeding through our connection?
I didn’t move with my parents because I made a life here.
Sweetwater Creek Realty might have started as their agency, but I’ve poured my heart into it.
The photo binder of every sale. The keys I’ve collected.
The properties I’ve nicknamed and loved and fought to preserve.
This town is my home in a way Dallas never could be.
And I realize now how much that job means to me and how much resentment I’m holding on to that they want to just sell it.
Even as the panic spirals, memories surface. The way Carter stared at me as if I was precious. The way he worshipped every inch of my body, whispered my name like a prayer. How he held me after I experienced my first knot.
I was thinking that I wanted more, that I didn’t want it to end, and for the first time in my life, I felt like my real self—an Omega, desired and cherished—instead of the carefully controlled Beta I’ve pretended to be.
And now he writes me poetry.
I’ve made things so much more complicated, haven’t I?
Add it to the pile. My parents want to sell my business, and I’m just waiting for them to announce they want to sell the house too, the house I grew up in, the house that holds more memories than I can count.
Maybe joining the circuit is my best solution.
Follow Carter and the others, leave everything behind, start fresh.
Well, that’s if they even want me to come. Seth’s father owns the circuit, and to him, I’m just the chaperone. Just some small-town person who got too close to his star riders. Would he even allow it?
And is that what I want? To give up everything I’ve built for three men I’ve known for a handful of days?
Okay. Stop. Stop thinking about it, or you will spiral into a full-blown panic attack.
I force myself out of bed, legs wobbly, and head for the shower. The hot water helps, loosening the tension in my shoulders, washing away the lingering traces of last night. I let myself just stand there for a few minutes, face tilted up to the spray, trying to find my equilibrium.
Today is the first day of the rodeo. I agreed to take photos for Belle, who’s out of town for a few days, and I have my camera ready and waiting. A full day of work means no distractions by bites and marks and impossible decisions about my future.
Theoretically, anyway.
I dry off, get dressed in my favorite cherry-print vintage dress and comfortable flats, and comb my hair into something resembling order.
The mating mark peeks above my neckline, impossible to hide completely.
I consider changing into something higher-necked, then decide I’m being ridiculous. It is what it is.
My reflection stares back at me, flushed cheeks, bright eyes, a woman who looks thoroughly ravished and not nearly as panicked as she feels.
Fake it till you make it, June.
I grab my camera bag and head downstairs.
The three of them are in the kitchen, talking quietly over coffee, and they all go silent the moment I appear in the doorway. Six eyes swing toward me. Three sets of shoulders straighten.
I raise an eyebrow. “Well, that’s not suspicious at all.”
Carter’s mouth twitches. Kai grins outright. Seth just watches me with those intense blue eyes, unreadable as always.
God, they’re gorgeous. All three of them, dressed and ready for the rodeo, looking like they stepped out of some cowboy fantasy designed specifically to destroy me.
Seth is in a dark chambray shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms on display, his favorite hat already on his head.
Carter is wearing a green-and-white-checkered button-up that brings out his eyes, blond hair still damp from the shower.
And Kai is in a fitted black T-shirt that clings to every muscle, his tribal sleeve bold against his tanned skin, hair pulled up in that messy knot that makes me want to yank it loose.
It’s my second day without suppressants, and I feel it.
Their scents crash over me the moment I’m close.
My body buzzes with awareness, nerves lighting up like someone flipped a switch.
I want to touch them, and I keep thinking about hands and mouths and skin against me, and it’s taking every ounce of willpower to stand here and act normal.
But Carter. God, Carter.
The bond between us hums, warm and insistent, and I’m drawn to him like a magnet.
I want to cross the kitchen and press myself against his chest, bury my nose in his neck, inhale until I’m drunk on his scent.
I want those arms around me again, that sense of safety and belonging that made everything feel simple last night.
Instead, I stay where I am and pull myself together, smiling as if my whole world isn’t tilting on its axis.
“We should head to the rodeo,” I say brightly. “I have photos to take, and you three have competitions to prepare for.”
Carter moves toward me, concern softening his features. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” The lie tastes like ash on my tongue. All three of them stare at me with identical expressions of We can tell you’re bullshitting us.
“And you slept well?”
Heat floods my cheeks. Before I can answer, Kai coughs into his fist, and I definitely hear the words “bed creaking” and “screaming” hidden in there somewhere. “No one slept last night,” he adds with a wicked grin. “Just saying.”