Chapter 9
I wandered around the cabin, desperately trying to find something to amuse myself. I had folded and refolded the blankets that we kept on the sofa and even went as far as washing the dishes and cleaning out the cutlery drawer. I couldn’t relax and I couldn’t stay still. Every bone in my body was humming with need.
I desperately wanted to be closer to the omega. If I listened to my instincts, I would have been breaking down that door, pulling her into my arms, and demanding she let me comfort her. Realistically, I knew that wasn’t the smartest move, but instincts were never really known for being intelligent, were they? Especially not alpha instincts.
"Dude, sit down. You're making me anxious," Asher said from where he was standing in the kitchen, making himself a sandwich.
"Don't you wanna go to her?" I asked, running my hand roughly through my hair.
My pack mate nodded in agreement and cocked his head to the side. "Of course, I do. It's an omega. She's in our territory and she's distressed. All I want to do is give her a cuddle, but that wouldn't be very nice right now. We need to give her space."
"Space is overrated," I grumbled as I picked up a blanket yet again.
"I swear to God, Carter, if you are going to fold that thing again, I'm going to fold you into it and toss you outside," Asher said. There was no real heat to his words, but I didn’t put it past him to actually lock me outside in the freezing cold if I didn’t stop flittering around like a mother hen.
I sighed deeply, throwing the blanket roughly onto the couch, no longer folded—just bundled up in a messy ball. "I hate this," I muttered. "I really hate this."
Asher nodded. "I agree with you. You’re the one who brought her here. It makes sense your instincts would be extra strong when it comes to her. For now, we give her space, and I’m going to cook lots of good food. She’s clearly underweight. She needs protein, so I’m going to make foods that omegas would like that also contain protein."
That made me chuckle. "Asher," I said, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Of all the omegas we've met in our lives, have you seen any who didn’t run around like feral toddlers who want to eat nothing but buttered noodles? Good luck finding a meal with protein in it that an omega will actually enjoy."
Asher’s face turned grim. "They're not all that bad," he said. "I think this is more of a female thing, as opposed to an omega thing, because do you know how many of my sisters are the exact same?"
I chuckled. Asher had several sisters that he hadn’t seen in many years, because they’d all gone off to live their own lives. They were a mix of betas and omegas. He was the lone alpha in his family, and he’d left at eighteen to join the military. That had lasted all of a few weeks before he decided to veer into the medical field. The change of career suited him, and thankfully, the military let him switch his focus to medicine. That way, he was still technically part of the military, but his pursuits were far more academic.
"You know," Asher said, "I could always do buttered noodles and add chicken. I mean, she probably likes chicken, doesn’t she?"
I nodded. "Chicken is the blandest protein out there, so I assume it’s a pretty safe bet."
"It's not bland." Asher sighed. "I season things. I’m not like you."
That made me laugh. "I’m a simple guy, what can I say?"
“The first time I saw you cook chicken, I was convinced I had packed up with a serial killer.”
Okay, it wasn’t exactly the case that I liked things plain. It was more that I couldn’t cook to save my life, and since Asher had plenty of skills in that department, we let him handle it. Dylan was a close second, but he cooked out of necessity, not enjoyment.
"Buttered noodles with chicken sounds perfect," I said, before the itch of concern hit me again. "You know what? I think I need to go check on her."
I started to make my way towards the bedroom, but I was met by Dylan, who must have come in through the back door. His face was thunderous, and anger rolled off him in waves, crashing through our bond.
"She's gone," he said, his voice low. “I just got a notification from our cameras.”
I stopped in my tracks, staring at him, trying to compute what he had just said. "What do you mean, she’s gone?" I asked, my heart beginning to race. "Where could she have gone?"
Asher stopped what he was doing to walk over to us. "She can’t have gone far. Did you check under the bed?" he asked with a nervous laugh.
Dylan shook his head, a growl building in his throat. "She's gone . The window's wide open. I think she made a break for it. The cameras picked up movement almost half a mile away from here, so she got pretty far before I was alerted.”
"We need to go after her." My heart was in my throat as I thought about all the things that could go wrong out there—she was so tiny, and fragile, and could be so easily hurt. "You know how dangerous it is out there," I said to Dylan, who was still glaring at me.
"I'm more concerned with why she would try to make a run for it," he said, his voice heavy with frustration. "Why? We aren’t hurting her, we’re helping her, and yet she’s so desperate to get away?"
Asher shook his head. "Of course, she would try to run. She’s scared. God knows where she’s come from and what she’s been through. I doubt she is doing anything nefarious, Dylan."
Dylan cocked his head to the side, still frowning. "I don’t know. She wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the details about what’s happened to her, was she?"
Asher frowned back at him. "As she should be. If she’s been kept somewhere against her will, and been through a living nightmare like that? I would also be a bit tight-lipped if I were her."