Chapter 35
thirty-five
This is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.
Maximus glowers, his dark eyes snapping to the big wicker basket clenched in my fist. The one I lined with a stolen blue-cloth napkin… and tied a sprig of wildflowers to.
Ya think? he seems to say.
I’d tell him to shut the hell up, but yeah. He’s right.
My voice still cooperates for the damn dog, but it’s questionable, otherwise. Violet has been here for nearly three days, but I can only manage a handful of words around her—and only if her perfume isn’t making my Alpha crazy.
So, basically never.
I’ve felt like shit for the last twenty-four hours. What kind of alpha am I if I can’t properly tend to her during a heat-spike? Or sleep in bed with her? Both times, I know I backed off to protect her…
But I fucking hate it.
And since she apparently spent the entire night unable to sleep. Then disappeared on Finn once again—a fact he’s squarely pegging on me.
The truth is, I barely slept, either. Terms like touch-starved and chronically neglected ran through my mind on a loop all night. I rolled around on my floor mattress for hours, worrying about how much she probably needed me there for more cuddles.
Hence, my very stupid gift.
Today seems brighter than yesterday, at least. I trace her honeysuckle-and-sunshine warmth across the house. Satisfaction smolders in my center when it seems like she might be in the kitchen. My Alpha may be a wordless monster, but he’s also, somehow, delighted by the thought of his Omega eating.
Instead, I find Gideon and Atlas at the breakfast table. Our pack alpha is reading, as per usual. Nothing new there. I am, however, surprised to find Gid snuggled into his side.
What the fuck?
Wasn’t he seething when we went on our shopping trip?
I pause under the arched entrance, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. Atlas doesn’t notice—or just doesn’t comment. Gideon can smell me, though. His sleepy eyes crack open to shoot me an I don’t want to hear it look.
When I pointedly dart my gaze around the kitchen, Gideon shrinks closer to Atlas. “She’s in the backyard,” he murmurs, softer than I expect. “I think she has been since she got dressed.”
Atlas pumps his purr up, gently kneading the nape of Gideon’s neck as he turns the page on his latest read. His omega relaxes again, missing the moment my focus connects with the other alpha’s.
We have one of our silent exchanges—my brows draw up, and he frowns, consternation all over his face. I thought he had my omega eating a decent breakfast. He thought I was already out there with Violet.
It obviously worries him. He holds himself in check for Gideon’s sake, though. Rather than expressing concern, he clears his throat and goes back to his book.
“Ryker,” he says dryly, not glancing up this time. “I’m assuming my imagination has run away with me and that is, in fact, not what I think it is.”
Ah, hell.
He’s talking about my stupid present.
How can he tell what I have in here? The basket is closed.
Sometimes, I swear this bastard is clairvoyant.
I can’t speak to argue, so I settle for a low growl of dissent. Gideon skirts nervous eyes between his alpha and me, then sighs.
“You know, At, it might not be the worst idea,” he says, much too sweetly. “And whatever Violet does… It’s just temporary for you and me, right?”
Atlas casts him a reproachful expression that melts into affection as seconds tick by.
“Brat,” he finally mutters, shaking his head good-naturedly.
Then, to me, “Fine. Just don’t let Finn see you.
He left to shop for courting gifts an hour ago, and I’ve already gotten three alerts on our credit card.
God knows what he’ll do if he thinks you’re overshadowing his largesse. ”
Fuck. Right. Courting gifts.
Because alphas court their omegas. With fancy presents and shit.
From the moment I laid eyes on my daisy again, the prospect of not keeping her truly never occurred to me. It probably should, though. Just because she loved me when we were both in chains, doesn’t mean she has to, now.
She’s a free woman. She could leave tomorrow. And, given all my shortcomings, no one would blame her.
Gideon senses the way that realization sinks into my stomach. His smug, victorious half-smile drops into a small frown. “I’m sure she’ll love anything you give her, Ryker.”
I don’t think Gideon has ever been kind to me. Tolerant, yeah. Willing to put up with all my PTSD and my weirdness around his perfume, sure. But this is something deeper. Almost… empathy.
He notices the same moment I do. Clearing his throat, he hides against the side of Atlas’s neck, closing his eyes on an exhale. “You should go to her,” he adds. “Now that she has her strength back, I have a feeling she won’t come in anytime soon.”
I understand that all too well. When I first got out of the facility, I purposefully lived on the streets for weeks, terrified that going inside would be akin to locking myself in another cell. Sometimes, I still wake up panting, convinced bars will slam down around me at any moment.
Jesus.
How am I supposed to take care of an omega?
It would be really fucking nice if I had an actual pack right about now. Or, you know, the possibility of a group bond. Either would go a long way toward helping with my speechlessness. Neither are options, though.
I skim my focus over the healing bite branded into Atlas’s right wrist. My gut twists, but Maximus bumps my leg, herding me toward the French doors.
Dick.
As if he wasn’t annoyed about my gift two goddamn minutes ago.
Ignoring their opinions and the sick squirm in my stomach, I trudge past Gideon and Atlas. I expect to find Violet at the patio table, or perhaps in the garden. Instead, her golden head catches stray sunbeams fifty yards from the back porch, winking at me from the field of wildflowers.
My daisy.
You know, I’ve never really understood how Finn has absolutely no chill. Until now.
It’s all I can do to keep from running right toward her. Maximus isn’t as circumspect—he bounds into the meadow, startling my sweet little bloom.
“Oh!” she gasps, then giggles, throwing her arms around his thick neck. Inciting a new round of burning jealousy.
“It’s you,” she coos. “Hi, buddy. Does this mean Ryker is…?”
I try to say “here,” but it comes out as a pouty grunt. Violet jumps slightly. Unstyled hair cascades over her shoulder as she whips her head around.
The deer-in-headlights look she flashes winds me. I know I’m big—and I can’t whisper reassurances and praises to her the way Finn did during her spike—but I don’t want her to be nervous around me.
She fidgets with the notebook on her knees, biting her lower lip as she stammers, “Ryker! Hi. I-I didn’t know if I should look for you or wake you up or—”
She thinks I’m pissed?
I suppose I am sort of glaring. And I never explained where I went last night… I guess, from her perspective, my actions would make sense if she’d upset me.
The notion of her worrying because of me banishes the last of my self-doubt. Because hell no. I might not be able to pour honey into her ear or explain every thought I have, but I know I can communicate better than this. And I refuse to scare her ever again.
I instantly drop to the dirt, carefully setting my gift aside and pulling Violet straight into my lap. She takes another sharp breath. Then, as I rub my face against the strap of her white sundress, she releases a shaky laugh.
That’s more like it.
Her scent sweetens into glorious golden decadence. My cock kicks in my jeans, but I ignore it, wrapping both arms around her delicate frame and hugging her. Hard.
My daisy hums happily, returning my blatant scent-mark with a timid nuzzle of her own. “Hi,” she says again, softer. “I missed you, too. So much.”
I hear the undercurrent to her words. She isn’t just talking about sleeping apart.
A violent pinch seizes my heart. I suddenly can’t help myself—I have to be tangled up in her. Wrapping a large swath of blonde hair around my wrist, I tug possessively, capturing her full focus.
Her next giggle is a little breathless. “I kept that for you, lion,” she teases, gazing into me. “Gideon probably thinks I’m crazy; I told him the whole story last night.”
Ah. She must have gone looking for one of us and run into the other omega. No wonder he was so much nicer about everything today—he got rutted by his man, and he finally deigned to have an actual conversation with my mate.
Doubt edges its way into Violet’s features. “That’s okay, right? For me to tell the others about… us?”
I squeeze her more tenderly, this time, nodding heartily. Her answering grin knocks the air from my lungs. When I try to replace it, a purr starts up. Her entire body relaxes, melding into mine. I close my eyes, breathing deeper.
“Are you okay?” she whispers. “You left in the middle of the night…?”
I hate myself for it, but I would have hated myself more if I’d hurt her. Words jam in my throat, but I refuse to leave her without an explanation, this time. I look around for her notebook.
A sketchpad, I see. She’s already filled sixteen pages. Views of the meadow, mostly, but there’s one of Maximus asleep at the foot of her bed. And another of—
Gideon?
She notices my quirked brow and blushes, peeping, “He has good lines. Very fine, but square. It’s a nice juxtaposition.”
I nod, accepting her rationalization with another nuzzle to her cheek. When I point to her pencil, she hands it over. I jot a single messy line under the image of my dog, explaining why I didn’t stay in her bed.
Nightmares. Didn’t want to hurt you or go into a rut. Sorry, daisy.
Violet reads my scrawl and instantly softens. “Oh, Ryker,” she hums, turning to snuggle closer. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, because she doesn’t owe anyone any apologies. Least of all me. I poise the pencil over her paper again, sighing to release some of the tension clenching my chest. I should tell you why I couldn’t knot you, I write next.