Twenty
Cam
He hates you.
No, he doesn’t. He can’t hate me! We’re mates. We bonded.
You screwed it up. Of course he hates you.
A knock on the bathroom door made me jump. I leaned on the counter and took a deep, shaky breath. “What?”
“Are you done?” Cal asked. Christ, he sounded madder than a nest of hornets. “Some of us need to use the facilities.”
I scowled, then pressed up and wrapped the towel tighter around my waist. “There’s more than one bathroom in this house,” I told him tartly as I opened the door.
“And there’s more than just you and me here right now,” Cal returned easily. Then he frowned. “I don’t know who’s worse, Connor or Aunt Caroline with her makeup.”
I snorted, then stepped out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam following me. “All yours, big bro.”
“Thanks,” Cal said, then paused and glanced me up and down.
“What?” I glowered at him.
Cal shook his head. “Nothing.” Then he closed the door with a click.
I huffed, then stalked back to my room. I dressed, then headed downstairs, hoping to get out of the house unseen, so I could shift into my fur and trot the five miles over to Vern’s.
Instead, Aunt Caroline ambushed me with a mug of coffee. “I made breakfast,” she said cheerfully.
“Gosh, thanks, Auntie,” I drawled, forcing sincerity into my voice. She’d made breakfast every morning she was here. Which was nice—she did full spreads, unlike what Cal and I usually scraped together when we were both undercaffeinated and half-asleep—but it was unusual.
She smiled at me. “We’re leaving this afternoon,” she said.
“Oh. Right.” They were heading back to their house; spring break was over for Cody and Connor. We’d see them again in the summer.
Caroline took me by the elbow and led me to the table. “Why don’t you join us?” she asked, her tone almost needling. I bristled.
“I … was gonna,” I started, then realized I didn’t have an excuse.
Caroline gazed at me with her amber eyes, waiting patiently. I sighed, then slumped down into a chair. “Yeah, that sounds nice,” I muttered, finally lifting my mug and taking a sip of steaming coffee.
“Now I just have to get Cody out of the bathroom,” Caroline muttered, putting her hands on her hips.
“I thought Cal said Connor had locked himself in there,” I muttered, swirling coffee around in my mug.
“Connor is still in bed,” Caroline huffed, “and so help anyone who thinks they’re gonna wake him up. Pup sleeps like the dead.”
I chuckled a little, then took another sip of my coffee. I could feel my aunt’s gaze boring into the back of my head.
Then she said, “I haven’t seen Wyatt.”
I almost choked on my coffee. “Uh. Yeah. Me either,” I said, setting my mug down slowly.
I swiveled in the chair to face her. She regarded me for a second or two, then said, “You tried calling him?”
“Uh.” I felt my cheeks heat. I hadn’t, actually. The first couple of days, I’d been content to wait. The next few days, I’d been convinced he was pissed at me. Now I was pretty sure he probably hated my guts, first for trying to mark him, and then for screwing up the bond.
Even though it was messed up, I could still feel him through the other end of the tether. The occasional bursts of fear I was getting were probably related to the fact he was figuring out what all this bonding stuff meant.
I should have waited. Wyatt was, as far as anyone could tell, human, and all this shifter stuff was new to him. He needed time, and instead, I’d pressed on like one of those TV alpha-holes, too desperate to claim him, to make him mine.
And I’d messed everything up in the process.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he never wanted to see me again. I’d hate me too, if I were in his shoes.
“Cam,” Caroline started in her best matronly voice.
“I was going to head over to Vern’s and see if he’s in,” I admitted. Then I shrugged. “He’s probably just busy. You know. It is springtime and all—busy season for vets.”
I offered her an insincere grin. She quirked a brow, then shook her head. Then she sniffed, her nose wrinkling. “Do you smell—”
We both turned to the kitchen, just in time to see black smoke billowing out of one of the pans on the stove.
“Shit,” Caroline spat, then dove for the pan, just as the smoke detector screeched to life.
I dashed to the back door, throwing it open. Then I darted to the window over the sink; Caroline waved me out of the way as she hefted the smoking pan and dumped it into the sink. “Go get the alarm,” she ordered.
I hurried into the hallway, dragging my shirt over my head, waving it frantically at the detector. Cal’s feet thudded on the stairs. “What’s going on? What’s on fire?” he bellowed.
“Oh, calm your tits,” Karla drawled from the other room. “That’s just the bell—breakfast’s ready.”
“Shut up,” Caroline grumbled.
The alarm finally silenced itself, and I sighed, allowing myself a moment to recover from the adrenaline. When I lifted my gaze from the floor and focused, I found a familiar pair of hazel eyes peering around the corner at me.
“Uh, hey!” I cried.
Wyatt seemed to wince, withdrawing around the corner again. “Uh, hey,” he replied, his voice unsteady.
“I didn’t hear you knock,” I said, meandering closer.
Wyatt stepped out from behind the corner, glancing over his shoulder. “It was … kind of loud in here. Every thing okay?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah.” I waved at the smoke detector. “Aunt Caroline just set breakfast on fire.”
“It was not on fire!” Caroline hollered back.
I gestured absently. “Uh, so …”
Wyatt glanced away, running a hand through his dark curls. Oh, his curls. I clenched my hands, trying to will away the desire to run my fingers through his tresses. “Vern gave me the day off, so I figured …”
Relief flooded me so suddenly, I could have been knocked over with a feather. Wyatt hadn’t been avoiding me. He’d just been busy. He was a vet, and it was springtime in farm country. Of course he’d been run off his feet.
I needed to get it together. I couldn’t start thinking he was mad at me or hated my guts every time work got a little busy for him, not if we were gonna be together.
Wyatt didn’t need that. No omega needed that.
No, they all deserved supportive alphas, and I, for one, wasn’t going to fall into the trap of being a stereotypical alpha-hole.
“So,” I started, just as Cal rounded the corner.
“Cam, do you—oh, hey, Wyatt.”
“Hey,” the dark-haired vet said, lifting a hand in greeting.
Cal opened his mouth to say something to me. Then he froze, his expression twisting. He turned his head viciously, fixing Wyatt with a scandalized look. He stared for a minute.
Wyatt blinked. “What?” I asked.
Cal shook his head furiously. He gave me a wary look. Then he glanced back at Wyatt. “Nothing,” he said. “Never mind.”
I scowled at him. That was a weird reaction for anyone but especially for Cal.
“Let’s go to the kitchen and sit down,” Cal said. His voice was still nervy.
I frowned, crossing my arms, but Cal was already headed down the hall, brushing past Wyatt.
The kitchen still stank. Aunt Caroline was fanning the pan, trying to get the smoke to waft out the window.
Wyatt looked a little green around the gills, but he said nothing as Cal marched us over to the table. We sat, without a word.
“Can I get you anything, Wyatt honey?” Caroline called from the sink. “Coffee, tea, water?”
“No coffee,” Cal said, and I stared at him. What the fuck was up with him this morning?
“Water would be fine,” Wyatt replied, then cleared his throat.
I glared at Cal as I sank into a chair. “What’s going on?” I practically growled. Honestly, he didn’t get to dictate what people could or couldn’t drink in the house, then not tell me what the hell was going on in that head of his.
Cal glanced at me, then at Wyatt. Was that me or were his cheeks pinker than usual? Cal was … blushing?
Weirder and weirder.
“It’s nothing,” he said again. “Just …”
“Just what?” I pressed.
He took a deep breath. “You don’t think Wyatt smells … kinda funny?”
Wyatt stared. I blinked. “Come again?” I asked finally.
Cal coughed, then set down his mug.
Silence filled the room. I stared at the wall, pursing my lips. Wyatt glanced between us, then laughed nervously. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, grinning. “I mean, I’ve been out in the fields, so …”
Cal shook his head. Karla dropped a plate of various fried meats on the table, and I watched Wyatt turn even greener. “Who knows,” my burly aunt said. “Could mean just about anything.” She shrugged. “Could mean you’ve been out in the fields, could mean you’re pregnant, could mean nothing at all.”
Wyatt’s eyes went round. “What!” he yelped. “Pregnant?!” He seemed to waver in his seat, then clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Are you serious right now,” I snapped at Karla, who merely lifted her brows.
“You’re the one who thought he was in heat,” Cal muttered, and a chill went through my body.
I had thought that. And then we’d fucked, and it had stopped. Wyatt’s “heat” had only been a day or so long.
I’d chalked that up to him being human, maybe not an omega at all, or my mind playing tricks on me.
Wyatt shook his head. “I’m not—that’s not … possible.” He looked at the tabletop, his brows tenting. “I’m a guy. Male—what … whatever. I can’t … I don’t …”
“Honey,” Caroline said as she approached the table, “you’re an omega, and you’re Cam’s fated mate. Of course it’s possible.”
Wyatt screwed his eyes shut and shook his head furiously. “That’s insane,” he protested.
“It’s the truth,” Caroline said, and for once, there was something angry in her voice.
Wyatt looked desperately at me and Cal, like he wanted us to jump to his rescue or something. I just stared at him; there was nothing in my brain I could summon to argue with my aunt. She was telling the truth; I knew it in my bones—nothing was impossible because Wyatt was an omega. My omega.
Cal shifted uncomfortably and said, hesitantly, “I was thinking it might be the bond? It isn’t sealed right, so maybe ...”
Relief flooded Wyatt’s face.
“Of course,” Karla said. “That makes sense.”
Wyatt nodded furiously. “That’s got to be it.”
Caroline opened her mouth to argue, but Karla put a hand on her shoulder. “We need to go pack,” the burly woman told her gently.
Caroline glanced up at her mate, her mouth a thin line. Ultimately, she said nothing though. Instead, she sat down and picked up her own mug of coffee. “Let’s eat,” she said.
She lifted her gaze and pierced me with it. “And after breakfast, you’re fixing that bond.”
I swallowed nervously. “Yes, ma’am.”