Chapter 28
twenty-eight
“You know,” I venture, sliding my eyes across the center console. “I could just trim her hair—”
After three hours alone with the guy, I’ve come to realize that Ryker might be sort of handsome, if he stopped glaring at everyone. At this point, the thick ledge of his dirty-blond brow is probably stuck like this, though. Folded low over wild green-gold eyes.
He doesn’t speak, of course, but his answering rumble is dark enough to dry my throat. “Jesus,” I mutter, playing off a shudder as an eye roll. “It was just a suggestion.”
A stupid one, his glower informs me. Looking so much like his dog, I have to ignore the urge to smirk as I turn off the winding country road and onto our driveway. Dozens of bags in the backseat slide together, crinkling.
I guess I did pick out a lot of stuff, I muse, watching the manor come into view. Atlas will either be proud or exasperated. Possibly a combination of the—
Just when I think I’ve actually made it through a shopping trip with my feral packmate relatively unscathed, Ryker snarls—a low, slow sound. All menace and instinct.
Oh shit.
“What?” I demand, my eyes bugging as I absorb the way he’s braced in the passenger’s seat. “What do you—”
Oh.
Holy.
God.
Is that Violet?
A wall of honeysuckle perfume slams into us the second I whip our Audi into the circular front drive. The strength of it—the pure need—is enough to knock me back. I press myself into the leather seat behind me, blinking in shock.
What the fuck happened? Did her heat spontaneously start? Did she find Finn or—
Atlas.
My alpha’s name snaps me out of my scent-induced stupor. I remember where I am and who I’m with, whipping my head to the right, preparing to run or whine or defend myself from the beastly alpha losing his shit beside me.
But he’s gone.
The car hangs open ominously… along with the house’s dilapidated front door.
S.H.I.T.
I fling myself out of the Audi, not bothering to check if I turned the vehicle off. Leaving all our shopping bags behind, I bolt for the house, running to catch Ryker before he can find Violet and maul her. Or fight Atlas trying to get to her.
My stomach clenches and spins, imagining what I’ll find when I trace Violet’s scent to her bedroom. If she really was in heat or a spike, how far would the half-bond force Atlas to go? Will he—
Oh.
Fuck.
The first thing I see is Finn’s underwear, molded to his sculpted ass. He’s mostly naked, of course. Pacing the hallway outside Violet’s closed door.
What the hell is he doing out here? Where is she?
The whole floor is positively soaked in their scents—a rush of herbs, citrus, and honey that makes my lungs vibrate. That’s not all, though. Because Ryker rushes toward Finn, blending rapidly burning vanilla with the other essences.
“It isn’t like last night,” Finn blurts, shoving his hands into his hair. “This one is stronger. Her Omega is totally in control, and she wants—”
My best friend cuts himself off, flicking a guilty glance at me. Atlas, I realize. Her Omega wants the alpha she bit to tend to her. Of course.
But where is he? I don’t sense him inside her room. And her next whine is clearly one of pure distress.
Ryker drops to his knees in front to the bedroom door. He snaps a brawny, calloused hand up, knocking. Struggling several times before he finally manages to rasp, “Daisy.”
Hearing his voice is still so new. It shocks all of us silent for a moment.
It must have quite the effect on this other omega, too, because the door cracks open, revealing Violet’s tear-streaked, heart-shaped face.
She hiccups from her place on the floor, and Ryker visibly inhales, gasping silently before he muscles his way in, practically tackling her.
The burly man frames Violet’s delicate jaw with his fingers.
Her bleary green eyes flutter a few times before focusing on his.
She’s totally out of it, but I swear to God, a beam of light practically arcs between them.
Ryker’s vanilla-based warmth goes from smoldering to gooey and freshly baked.
Violet whimpers, lifting her palm to his face.
She smooths the muscle ticking in his jaw—and it relaxes.
“Lion,” she whispers.
It’s the purest connection I’ve ever witnessed. Ryker collapses into it, his impossibly wide shoulders instantly slumping forward. Relief and adoration soften every crease of his rugged features before he hides his face in her hair.
She needs it washed, I think numbly. She’s already half-dressed. I could run the shower and—
My best friend finally drifts closer, interrupting my insane thoughts. Panic sours his scent, turning it into a slicing essence I haven’t experienced since our college days.
“You should go,” he mutters. “Atlas was in a bad way. On the verge of a rut.”
Rut.
The word finally sinks through the sensory overload swarming my body. Certainty creeps into my blood, cooling it. Then heating it to a thick pulse.
Violet strokes her hand over Ryker’s nape. Her brows twitch as she peers over his shoulder, all pupils and no pretty green. When our gazes graze, she tenses. Fear flashes over her face, but I don’t have time to relish it or reassure her.
“Atlas,” I bite out. “Where is he?”
When she whines again, her wide eyes glossed with devastation, I realize: she doesn’t know. She didn’t let her Omega go looking for him, even though she’s clearly in pain.
More importantly, Atlas didn’t come up here at all. He stayed away, even while the woman currently burrowed halfway into his center shrieked for help.
He kept his word. Every promise he’s ever made about how finding a mate wouldn’t change the way he feels about me, or his commitment to me…
He meant it.
He’s really choosing me.
So many mixed emotions clamor in my middle, I don’t know where to begin. Am I impressed? Horrified? Guilty? Worried?
I know one thing for sure.
I’m… slick.
Finn sees the look on my face and gives the grimmest nod he’s ever mustered. He backs toward the door, gesturing as if he’s leading the way and mouthing a bark. “Seriously, Gid. Run.”