CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – Nicolette
I loved them and I had ruined them.
Their pack was in pieces because of me. I heard everything Savva said on the phone. Kodiak and Silas were going to kill one another if I stayed any longer. I would not be the cause of them never speaking again. I refused to be the reason brothers became enemies.
My heart was yanked out as Ezekiel shut the door. It would be the last time I ever saw him. My God, he was the most thoughtful Alpha, so full of beautiful life. I couldn’t not say goodbye to him the way we did.
Atka and Kavik trotted over to me and nuzzled my hands. Atka turned toward the door as if he wanted me to follow Ezekiel out. Kavik licked my fingers and cocked her head sympathetically.
I scratched their heads before sinking to my knees and hugging them. “Thank you both for making me feel not so alone here. You’re the best dogs ever, and I’m going to miss you so much.”
Atka covered my face in doggy kisses but Kavik gave a small whine.
I wiped my face to get rid of the slobber and realized I was crying too. “Come on, you two. Let me give you some treats and then I need to get going.”
Sniffling, I fed the huskies their treats and left them chewing on green bones. Ezekiel said they wouldn’t be gone long. I wasn’t sure how fast a snowcat could move, but I might have an hour. I needed to be long gone before that.
I tore my suitcases out of the closet in my bedroom and started to throw my clothes in. There was no time for proper packing. I wasn’t going to haul my trunk out either. These were just things. I only needed enough to get back to my parents’ house. Pausing, I realized I didn’t think of it as home anymore.
Fresh tears stung my eyes. Faster. I had to save the pack.
Rushing into the bathroom, I grabbed some toiletries and chucked those in too. I took Kodiak’s body wash and breathed it in. That went into the suitcase along with his flannel shirt. I yanked on Silas’ black hoodie over my sweater. It was cold out there. I needed layers. And if I couldn’t have him keeping me warm, I would have his shirt.
I pulled out a pair of Ezekiel’s sweatpants from my nest and slipped those on. They were baggy, but I tied the drawstring as tight as I could. All their scents surrounded me and made me want to curl up on the bed. My Alphas. I wanted to stay. I needed them so badly.
But they needed each other. The pack had to come first.
Steeling myself, I forced myself to go with only two suitcases and wheeled them down the hall to the front door. I put on my boots and coat before checking to make certain the dogs had fresh water and food.
“I love you, my sweet friends. Take care of the guys for me. They’re going to need lots of comfort.” I kissed each of the huskies on their heads. They watched me as I went back to the door. “Atka, Kavik, stay.”
Nicolette, stay. Fuck, I didn’t want to leave. But I had to.
Determined not to cry again, I opened the front door and was immediately smacked by an arctic blast. This was not good, but I had no choice.
I pulled on my beanie and fastened my hood before stuffing my hands into gloves. I then went outside with my suitcases, closing the door behind me. The wind had no mercy, threatening to blow me off the mountain. Even as I dragged my luggage to the truck, I knew that I couldn’t drive it in this. I’d have to do this the Alaskan way.
Pushing on to the shed, I got a respite from the howling wind as I went inside. It wouldn’t be as warm on a snow machine, but at least I’d be able to make it down the mountain alive. I hooked up a sled to the back of a machine and secured my suitcases in it.
How much time had passed? Were Savva and Ezekiel in town already? Were they coming back? I had to hope they weren’t, because no way was I going to drive off the road.
My heart hammered as I started the snow machine and let it warm up. Those precious minutes felt like too much. I needed to be gone. My tracks needed to be covered by the snow. I couldn’t let them follow me.
I put on a full helmet and exited the shed on the snow machine. Hurrying back, I shut the door and hopped back on. The seat and handles might be heated, but it was doing nothing to protect me from the raging storm. My stomach flipped and every instinct screamed at me to get back into the house. This was far too dangerous.
Save the pack. That was my mantra. I repeated it to myself as I drove down the driveway.
When I got to the road, I turned west toward Shae’s. Savva and Ezekiel surely went east since it was a shorter drive to get to town. West would take a few more miles, but it would get me to the same place.
A few more miles in a blizzard was like a hundred. I didn’t know how long I was out there. There were more than a couple of times I thought the wind would push the snow machine over and pin me under it. I was frozen through and through. I chanted my mantra and let the roar of the storm fill my head with white noise so I wasn’t thinking about what was happening with the pack.
Then finally I spotted the blur of the airport’s lights. I sped up, not caring if I crossed the runway. No planes would be flying in this storm, but if I was lucky, there would be one ready to go as soon as it cleared. I’d come to Petersburg on a chartered flight, but even though I hadn’t made any reservations to fly today, a plane flew back and forth from Juneau every day with supplies and commuters. It wasn’t a flight back south, but it would get me off the island in the swiftest manner. From Juneau, it would be much easier to charter a flight down to Seattle.
I stopped near the entrance to the airport and dashed to the door. It was closed. A sign on the window said it was closed until further notice.
Fuck! I hadn’t even considered it would be closed. My mind had been elsewhere that the most obvious thing of an airport being closed because of a blizzard didn’t occur to me.
With my back against the door, I sunk to the ground and cried inside my helmet. The visor was heated to prevent fogging, but it wasn’t warm enough to dry my tears. I couldn’t even wipe my tears away because I didn’t want to take the helmet off and be exposed to the cold.
There was no going back. Likely they arrived back at the cabin and found me gone by now. I didn’t think to leave a note. No words would help them understand why I left.
Without the airport to weather out the blizzard, I had to find someplace else. Would anything be open downtown? That was highly unlikely. I could go back up to Shae’s. No, they would….
Ah damn. The Alphas were going to come looking for me. The storm wouldn’t stop them. The first place they’d go would be Shae’s. Why didn’t I take that into account as well? Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly when I left. I only knew I wanted to get away so the pack could heal.
I screamed at the blizzard. Screamed at my rashness and the whole fucking mess I caused.
If I hadn’t been such an agreeable daughter, if I would have fought my father harder on being sent to Alaska, he would have given in eventually. But I’d wanted my dad to be happy, and when I said I would try, he was ecstatic.
I wanted Silas, Ezekiel, and Kodiak to be happy too. They were doing fine before I came to the island. They had a profitable business and were building their gorgeous pack home. It had been Kodiak who really wanted a mate, but maybe he would have found an Omega that only he was compatible with. It would have caused far less of a mess than me being compatible with all of them.
It made me nauseous and angry to think of Kodiak or any of the Alphas with another Omega. I had no right to feel this possessive over the pack when I was giving them up. I hated this.
I screamed at the blizzard again. “I hate this! I hate this! I hate this!”
Bursting into another round of sobs, I cried so hard I started to cough and tears splashed the visor. I missed my Alphas already. I missed them so much it physically hurt. The agony echoed between my legs and suddenly gripped me with a powerful ache that had nothing to do with matters of the heart.
I curled up into a ball, shaking with the need for my Alphas. No. I was past the climax of my heat cycle. This couldn’t be happening.
Forcing myself back to my feet, I stumbled to the snow machine and sat on it. I hadn’t turned it off, so it still rumbled under me. Without thinking, I launched forward on it and turned straight for the mountain.
“No!” I couldn’t go back. The pack was better without me.
I couldn’t stay here. Nor could I go to Shae’s or even Savva’s. Where then?
Another clenching of my abdomen had me nearly fall off the snow machine. I needed help.
My brain scrambled for ideas. I was too far away from my family and friends. Nothing would be open in town right now, probably not even the clinic.
Doctor Berg!
“Yes, that’s it!” I directed myself back to town. Even if the clinic was closed, she lived one block away from it. I still had her card in my coat pocket in case I needed it, but if I could find the clinic, I could find her house.
Katherine would know how to help me through this. And being my doctor, she wouldn’t be able to call the pack if I told her not to. Medical confidentiality. None of the guys would think to look for me at her place either.
I raced across the airport tarmac and headed toward town. Slick soaked through my layers, and while the seat was warm, the wind was not. It was like tiny ice shards piercing my inner thighs.
Faster. I pushed the snow machine to go as fast as it could. I bumped over rocks and dipped into a ditch before jumping out of it. There was no way I could slow down. I needed to get to Katherine’s house, and I reined in all other thoughts.
My bite marks throbbed just as much as my core. Fuck, I wanted my Alphas.
But I couldn’t have them. Not ever again.
The headlights flickered. I glanced down to check the fuel. It was low. Too low.
I didn’t stop. Pain and need wracked my body. I had to get into town.
It happened in less than three seconds.
A trio of deer leapt out in front of me. I screamed and jerked the snow machine to the side to avoid hitting them. A tree sprang up in front of me, and I threw myself off the machine before it crashed.
I rolled along the ground and was stopped by another tree. Hitting it with a good force, I cried out and cradled my side. I hadn’t heard a crack, but if I didn’t break a rib, I was going to have a serious bruise.
The deer were gone, and the noise of the snow machine cut off as I gingerly sat up.
To stare right at a massive grizzly bear.