Chapter 17
FANG
Logan looks like he might throw up.
I might fucking throw up.
Maeve—my scent match—is in the other room, being knotted by her other scent match.
I can hear it, I can smell it, and I might as well be tasting it with how thick the air is.
Her little cries, the moans she makes—
And it’s all happening so fast that I can barely process it.
This was a road trip to pick up some kittens.
That’s what this was supposed to be.
A road trip to pick up kittens.
And yeah, some flirting, some time to get to know her and Ivan better, and maybe a way to ask her out.
But not this.
Not being snowed in in the middle of a nowhere town, stuck in a cabin while Maeve goes into Heat.
“This is fucking insane,” I choke out, letting out a hysterical laugh.
I’m overjoyed. I’m terrified.
I’m horrifyingly lonely and jealous of what’s happening in that other room.
Which, apparently, is the only room in this goddamn cabin besides the bathroom.
“Uh…you good?” I ask Logan, who stands in the kitchen, his eyes wide. He’s ramrod straight against the sink.
“She’s my scent match,” he mutters, his voice monotone.
No shit.
I nod. “Mine too. Everyone in this cabin’s, my friend.”
I don’t even know the guy. We’ve spoken a few sentences, and while he’s polite, I could tell how uncomfortable he was in the car.
“I think you’re in shock,” I tell him.
He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t even look at me.
What the fuck.
I can barely handle this myself. I knew Maeve was special, knew she was important…
Oh, fuck.
Avery is going to murder me.
He’s going to kill me, because I scent matched with his sister.
He didn’t even know I was going on this trip with her, because it was supposed to be a one-day thing to pick up some kittens.
I laugh bitterly, and Logan snaps his eyes to me.
“I’m going to go outside,” he announces, and my jaw drops.
“You’re going to what? You’re not even dressed for the snow.”
The guy is in a grey sweater and jeans, and I doubt he brought a change of clothes.
“You better not be having a psychotic break,” I growl. “I can’t handle that shit right now.”
He mutters something about doves, which I don’t understand, and heads out the door across from the wooden dining table, leaving me standing in the living room in front of the fireplace.
I try to process what the actual fuck is going on; but my inner Alpha takes up most of my brain.
It’s a miracle I can even speak coherent sentences.
Go to Omega.
Take her.
Claim her.
“Fuck!” I hiss, pulling at my hair and pacing around the room.
Maybe going outside is a good idea. Standing here, torturing myself while I know Maeve is behind a locked door getting knotted by another Alpha is doing nothing for my psyche.
I need my guitar.
I need music, something else to fill my ears besides the sounds of her needy cries.
Maybe Logan has the right idea after all.
The biting cold against my skin will be a decent distraction from the ache in my pants and the longing in my chest.
I stomp outside onto the porch, taking the unoccupied wooden bench to the left of the door. Logan is on the other bench to my right, sitting up straight and staring ahead into nothing.
The snow isn’t as violent as it was before. It falls steadily, but is a calming, peaceful sight as opposed to the winds from earlier.
It’s easier to breathe out here, even though the air is far colder than I’d prefer.
I inhale to a slow count of four, hold my breath for four counts, then exhale for four.
I continue to do it until my inner Alpha is no longer screaming in my head and demanding I march right back in there and take Maeve.
“You’re doing a breathing exercise,” Logan observes, as I continue to watch the snow.
“You should try it, sometime. Maybe you wouldn’t look like you’re at a funeral.”
“I’m not…sad,” he says, his voice strange.
But he’s known her longer than I have.
Maeve barely knows me.
Would she even trust me with her Heat?
I should be the one in the snow, not him, but the guy looks like he’s about to have a mental breakdown.
Regardless, Logan and I share the same scent match now.
Unless one of us tries to reject her, we’re going to be in each other’s lives.
I continue my deep breaths, trying to process exactly what the hell is happening.
I had hoped it was Maeve, of course.
I’ve been obsessed with her since the day I met her.
Her wit, her kindness, her scent…
But there’s very little time to absorb this.
Maybe the guy next to me is just processing everything a different way.
“It’s going to be okay,” I offer. “We don’t have a choice but for it to be alright.”
“I know.”
“Are you…I mean, you’re happy about this, right?”
When he finally turns to me, his eyes are glassy. “It’s more than I expected,” he admits. “More than I ever thought I could have. I’m just not prepared.”
I scoff and wave at the snow around us. “None of us are prepared. I barely know you, and now we’re both scent matched to the same Omega.”
He stays quiet, his mouth set in a hard line. His hands are on his thighs, and he bounces his left leg repeatedly.
He’s freaking out.
“Tell me about her,” I say, and that makes him stop his jerky movements and turn to me. His eyes are almost black, his jaw is clenched, and his face is flushed.
“What?”
“You know Maeve better than I do,” I say, doing my best to stay patient and not sound bitter. “Which is a privilege, by the way. I’ve known her barely a few weeks; not even a month. So, tell me about her.”
He looks at me like I’ve spoken a foreign language and not like I’m trying to offer a token of friendship.
We’re in the same boat. We’re in this together, and the last thing I want is to not get along with one of Maeve’s scent matches.
It would hurt her in the long run.
“What—what do you want to know?” he stammers.
“I saw the way you looked at her the entire car ride,” I say. “Especially when she was sleeping.” Logan swallows and clears his throat, his fingers twitching. “You looked at her like she hung the moon and stars.”
He nods. “She did,” he whispers.
“That’s exactly how I feel,” I say. “But you’ve known her longer. So, tell me your favorite thing about her.”
He cocks his head. “Why?”
I want to tilt my head back and laugh bitterly.
“Honestly? Because you look like you’re about to crash out; and I’m barely keeping it together here.
” I motion to my chest. “My scent match is in Heat with only a few walls separating us, and I can smell it. She hasn’t asked for me, so I’m forced to sit out here with you, and if we’re lucky enough, she’ll ask for us, too, and not just her established boyfriend to help her through it.
This whole situation is fucking insane, and you look like you can’t decide if this is the best or worst day of your life.
Because I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack and die on this fucking porch. Are those good enough reasons?”
Logan blinks. “Yeah. I would say those are good enough reasons.”
I nod and cross my arms, waiting for his answer.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize…” he blows out a breath, “I didn’t expect this, either.
I thought we were going to pick up some kittens, and I would get to know her better.
” He chuckles humorlessly to himself. “I like her because she’s everything I’m not.
All the good qualities I wish I had, she does.
She’s effortless with meeting new people.
” He motions to me. “She’s able to be gentle, but still strong.
And when she’s excited about something, you want to dive headfirst into the topic with her.
She’s just good,” he breathes. “She’s genuinely good, and precious, and rare. ”
“She is,” I agree softly. “You put it into much better words than I could have.”
There’s no doubt in my mind that Logan thinks the world of Maeve. When he talks about her, his expression softens and his breathing slows, as if just the thought of her is enough to calm him.
“And I’m not prepared,” he adds defeatedly. “I don’t have a plan in place—I need a plan, that’s how I operate, and she’s the best thing that could happen to me, and I’m already—”
“No one here has a plan, because no one planned this,” I say, motioning to the snow. “We’re just going to have to improvise as we go. But she’s the most important part of this.”
He nods. “Absolutely.”
“We keep it together for her. Whatever she needs, we give her.”
As much as the pep talk is for Logan, it’s for me, too.
I’m only a slightly bit more put together than he is. I’m still fraying at the edges, fighting every urge to break down the door and demand to see Maeve.
If she doesn’t want me around during her Heat, or worse, if she rejects me, and I’m left to hear and smell everything that happens, I don’t know if I’ll survive it.
“I’ve never done this before,” Logan says shamefully.
“Never had a scent match? Me either,” I chuckle.
“No. I mean, I’ve never—”
The door opens, and Ivan, fully dressed, peeks his head out. His hair is ruffled, and sweat shines off his face and neck.
He smells like Maeve.
Like Heat, and slick, and sugar, and everything that I’m missing out on…
I don’t realize I’m growling until his dark eyes narrow, and an answering growl rumbles from his own chest. “Hey,” he says calmly, despite the warning in his eyes, “I know tensions are high, but we have to keep it together for her. She needs us.”
“You smell like her,” I bite out, my inner Alpha speaking for me.
Shit. I need to keep it together.
Maeve may be my scent match, but technically, Ivan isn’t keeping her from me, even though it feels like it.
“She’s resting in her nest,” Ivan says, ignoring my comment. “But she’s asked for you.”
He looks at me specifically, and a choked sound comes from Logan’s throat.
“Me?” I clarify, saliva pooling in my mouth.
Bite her take her claim her fuck her