2. Nate #2
This time Kato darts around to my other side, where the omega’s head is burrowed into my chest, and reaches towards the omega’s neck.
My shirt—too large for the tiny omega—has slipped down, exposing pale but flushed skin.
Kato places his hand there, and it’s as if all the tension in his body melts from him at once.
The tightness in his shoulders disappears from just that simple contact.
His brows are still pinched with concern, but I don’t think I’ve seen him so relaxed in all the time he’s been here.
Something in me unfurls at seeing that relief on Kato’s face. I keep myself wound tight, but it’s clear he’s not as used to it as I am. The McLeod pack will do that to you. Day in and day out of pretending, of toeing the line, of hiding your true feelings, takes a toll.
It’s like that first gulp of air after a long time underwater—being out here with this version of Kato, who for the first time doesn’t look burdened with the heavy weight of carrying his past.
And it’s all due to this omega, whose name we don’t know, whose origins are a mystery, and whose scent is fucking us up a thousand different ways.
I can’t deny that having him close is soothing. I’m worried for him, but holding him feels right. So, so right. I almost don’t want to take him back, because then I might have to share him with more than just Kato. And my wolf does not. Like. That.
We need to get moving, though, because if we delay any longer then chances are my wolf will force me to move in the opposite direction.
Kato doesn’t look like he’s in any hurry to stop petting the omega, either.
The little shifter appears less distressed too, and I’m torn between being happy about it and being a little jealous that it was Kato’s touch that seems to have done it.
“Right,” I say. “That’s enough.”
Kato blinks, as if coming out of a trance. “Huh?”
I stand up tall and sweep past him. “We need to get a move on.”
It doesn’t take us long to get back—another twenty minutes or so, with Kato dogging my heels the entire time.
The pack territory borders the North Sea coastline, encompassing our wee village and the uninhabited area surrounding it.
Though most of the packs down south have larger holdings, the McLeod pack is the biggest in the Highlands.
I’m not surprised that Declan is waiting at the edge of the village when it comes into view, but the presence of a few other pack alphas has my nerves spiking.
Declan’s omega, Eden, is there too, his head of ashy curls poking out from behind Declan to get a look at us.
That relaxes me slightly, as Declan would never have allowed Eden to tag along if there were even a hint of danger, but the fact that any of them are there at all is unusual.
Kato tenses, his steps faltering as he takes them all in. “Should we be concerned about this?” he asks under his breath, quiet enough that the others won’t hear.
I try to sniff out Declan’s mood, but it’s unclear—the others are obscuring it. Maybe that’s intentional. I don’t bother trying to discern anything from Declan’s face; it rarely changes from his usual stern expression. His permanent frown has left deep furrows in his forehead, he’s that dour.
The omega in my arms is completely out of it—not even the scent of multiple shifters is enough to wake him. Wherever he’s gone in his head, it’s beyond where I can reach.
I let out an unhappy rumble to Kato as we approach, too close now to discuss anything privately. Hopefully he can figure out what I mean: stay on guard, follow my lead, and be quiet.
But of course, because he’s Kato, he does none of those things.
“Is this the welcoming committee?” he calls. The bravado he’s wearing is false, but his cheeky smirk would fool most.
“What’s that you’ve got, Nathan?” Declan asks, ignoring Kato.
“Who,” I correct. “A hurt omega. Found him unconscious near the east boundary.”
Eden’s breath hitches audibly, and he takes an aborted step forward before Declan clicks his fingers, telling him to stay right where he is. There’s a slight—so slight I barely catch it—tightening of Eden’s features, but he does as commanded. As always. As is the rule in our pack.
“He smells wrong,” Declan says, nostrils flaring as he raises his head. The other alphas—Graham, Harry, and Keir—do the same. Following our leader is all they know, and I can’t stop curling my lip in disgust at their copycat actions. Not one independent thought in any of their thick skulls.
The omega finally stirs as we get within a few feet of our—well, Kato wasn’t completely wrong to call them a welcoming committee. He hardly knows them—other than Declan, I suppose—but he’s already got them all figured out.
I shift slightly, trying to obscure everyone’s view of the omega. Kato drifts closer, even closer than before, and presses himself right against me. I tense for a second, unable not to, but relax when the touch doesn’t send warning signals through my body.
“He’s sick,” I say. Not an outright lie. No healthy omega in their right mind would be passed out naked in the arse end of nowhere. Not near another pack. Not near Declan’s pack, especially. We’re not exactly a good option for refuge.
Our numbers have been dwindling for years, and until recently Declan had refused to acknowledge it.
But with no new blood coming in and a declining birth rate, he’s been forced to consider opening the pack up to new members.
Our upcoming horse fair is meant to showcase our amenities as a pack—it’s why Declan’s been working us all to the bone to get our village in order, and why he’s been coming down so hard on Kato for his less-than-stellar behaviour.
The only reason I brought the omega back to the pack is that we have no other option.
Human hospitals won’t do him any good—no reason to drive him all the way to Inverness when he should heal naturally given time around other shifters.
Niall, an affable beta nurse and our most recent new pack member, can diagnose any internal issues.
So as much as I wanted to spirit the omega away to my cabin, which sits outside Declan’s land, bringing him back here was the better choice.
Declan, however, doesn’t look happy with my decision. “Are we a charity now, Nathan?”
“What did you expect me to do with him?” I ask, failing to hide my frustration. I meet Declan’s hazel eyes—similar in shade to Kato’s. “He was inside our territory,” I explain. “Can’t have an omega dying on our lands. I don’t think you’d like having to explain that to the high council.”
Kato shuffles on his feet beside me, but I avoid breaking eye contact with Declan. I can’t bare my neck, figuratively or literally. Not yet.
“You think he’s going to die?” Eden, to Declan’s obvious displeasure, asks in a quiet voice.
The omega in my arms chooses this moment to make a small noise of distress—barely more than a whimper. Kato moves swiftly to block everyone else’s view, which I’m glad of.
The omega whines, but doesn’t wake.
Kato mouths some words to me. I’m terrible at lip-reading, however, so I have no idea what he’s saying. Before I can do anything he whirls around and faces the others.
“He’ll be our responsibility, Uncle Declan,” Kato says. “You won’t have to bother with him. He can stay with us, and I promise he won’t cause any trouble.”
I close my eyes in resignation at the last part. It had been, until then, almost the right thing to say.
“You?” Declan asks, and the other alphas snort along with him, chittering like a row of talkative starlings. “Kato, you aren’t capable of keeping your own arse out of trouble. Why else do you think you’ve been assigned a babysitter?”
Kato’s spine goes rigid, and I smell anger and embarrassment waft off him.
“I’ll handle them both,” I say, not appreciating how Declan puts Kato under the microscope. I move Kato aside with a hand on his solid shoulder, needing to be the one facing down our pack leader. Having Kato between us in the more exposed position wasn’t making my wolf happy one bit.
“I suppose you’ll be needing someone to tend to him,” Declan says dispassionately.
Eden nods, as though Declan were making a suggestion rather than a complaint. “I’ll tell—”
“Eden,” Declan says, cutting him off. “I haven’t approved yet. We know nothing of this omega. He might not have honest intentions.”
Kato doesn’t hide his disbelief. “He’s unconscious,” he says slowly. “I’m not sure how an unconscious shifter could have dishonest intentions.”
“And he’s only an omega, Alpha,” Eden adds. “He can’t do much damage, can he?”
Declan’s lip curls unhappily. “Something isn’t right with that boy.”
The other alphas murmur in agreement. They’re correct in their assessment that something is wrong with the omega, but I don’t like the glimmer of interest in their eyes when they look at him.
“Smells sick or some shit like that,” Harry says, words coming out in a half-incoherent slur because the guy refuses to open his mouth more than a crack.
Don’t know why. I’ve never bothered to ask why he thinks permanently sounding like he’s downed an entire bottle of whisky is something to aspire to, but I doubt he’d be able to answer me even if I did.
Most of the other alphas in the pack barely have two brain cells to rub together, but I truly think Harry might have nothing up there but a couple of heavy rocks.
“If you ignore the smell, he’s pretty enough, though,” Graham says with a leer.
I’m growling deep in the back of my throat before I realise. “Don’t,” I grit out. “Leave him be.”
Declan’s eyeing me closely, and Eden is giving me the sort of poor-you look that he’s usually on the receiving end of. If only Declan were as stupid as the other alphas, I might have got away with my reaction.
“Ah. I can see now why you want to take responsibility for him, Nathan,” Declan says. “If he’s staying here, he’s under my rule, same as everyone else, so don’t even think about it.”