9. Chapter Nine
The woods off campus are empty at this hour, the kind of quiet I need after a long day in the vet labs and the animal clinic.
My feet hit the familiar trail in an even rhythm, the pine needles crunching under my running shoes.
The air smells like home, sharp evergreen and damp earth, and for a few minutes the weight of everything else fades.
I like it out here. No one expects conversation. No one asks how I’m holding up or how adjusting to the whole pack being on campus is. I just run and let my mind settle.
The pack has been on my mind more than usual lately, Adrian especially.
He carries so much without ever complaining, but I see the way some people look at him.
Too shy and thoughtful, not the picture of an alpha they expect.
It makes my jaw tighten every time. He is the best of us, and I will always make sure that I remind people of that.
The trail curves deeper into the trees. The light is starting to fade, turning everything dim and shadowed. I push my pace a little harder, letting the burn in my legs clear the last of the day from my head.
Then it hits me.
A sweet peach note cuts through the pine like sunlight breaking through branches. Bright strawberry and lemon zest ride underneath it, fresh and addictive. My steps falter. My instincts snap wide awake in a way they rarely do.
An omega.
I know it with absolute certainty before I even see her.
My direction changes without conscious thought. The scent grows stronger as I move, pulling me off the main trail toward a small clearing. My pulse is already rising. An omega out here alone at night? In the woods?
Not on my watch.
I spot her in the clearing just ahead. She is setting up moth trapping equipment by herself. A UV light glows against a white sheet, bait traps placed carefully around the area. She’s completely focused on her work, adjusting something on one of the traps with delicate hands.
She is beautiful. Petite, with long strawberry blonde waves falling forward as she leans down.
The focused set of her mouth and the way her sparkling blue eyes narrow in concentration hit me harder than I expect.
I stop short, taken aback by how striking she is, delicate but determined at the same time.
My protective instincts flare hard. I step forward, voice low and rough.
“You should not be out here alone at night.”
She startles and turns toward me. Her eyes widen for a second before narrowing. She clearly thinks I am some kind of threat or just an asshole. I don’t blame her, my tone came out harsher than I meant it to.
She straightens up, brushing dirt from her hands. “I’m fine. I’m barely set up and I will be here for at least another hour. You can go.”
I cross my arms and stay planted where I am. “Not happening. It’s not safe.”
She stares at me for a long moment, clearly annoyed. I stare right back, refusing to budge. If she thinks I dislike her, that’s fine. Better she think that than be out here unprotected.
I am not leaving her alone.
She huffs. “Look, I appreciate the concern or whatever this is, but I have work to do. I’ll be here for a while. You can go.”
I don’t move. My jaw tightens and every protective instinct I have roars to life, louder than they have in a long time. I hate that she is out here by herself. I hate that she thinks I am the threat. But mostly I hate how badly I want to step closer and breathe her in.
“Fine,” I mutter. “Then I’ll stay.”
She stares at me for a long moment, like she’s trying to figure out if I’m serious. I am. Dead serious. I turn my body slightly away from her and stare into the trees, arms still crossed, refusing to leave her unprotected.
The silence between us is heavy and awkward. But I don’t care, she can think I am a grumpy bastard all she wants.
After a minute she sighs and goes back to her equipment. I stay where I am, trying not to watch her.
Trying and failing.
My eyes keep drifting back, focusing on the way she moves with such resolute purpose. The way her hair falls forward when she leans down. The rapt focus in her expression. She is beautiful in a way that makes my chest feel tight.
Finally I clear my throat. “Chase,” I say gruffly. “My name is Chase.”
She glances up, surprised. “Elodie.”
The name eases its way into my chest like it has always belonged there. We don’t say anything else. She goes back to her work and I stay where I am, arms crossed, pretending to look at the trees while every part of me stays locked on her.
I stay until she’s finished. And when she starts to pack up and leave, I follow along beside her, making sure that she gets home safely.
We walk in silence for a while. I keep a few steps behind her, eyes scanning the dark trees on either side of the path.
Every rustle in the underbrush makes my instincts tighten.
She’s still annoyed with me, I can feel it in the stiff set of her shoulders, but I don’t care, she’s not walking back alone.
The trail narrows as we near the edge of the woods. Moonlight filters through the branches in thin silver lines. I’m watching the ground ahead of us when she suddenly gasps.
“Stop!”
Her hand shoots out and grabs my forearm. The contact hits like lightning. Electricity races up my arm and straight into my chest. My breath catches hard. Her fingers are small but strong, hot against my skin, and for one dangerous second my mind blanks completely.
She yanks me back a step.
I look down. A caterpillar is curled on the path right where my foot would have landed.
She lets go of my arm like it burned her and drops to her knees. I stand frozen, heart hammering, trying to remember how to breathe. The place where she touched me still tingles like a live wire.
She delicately scoops the caterpillar onto her palm. “It’s a protected species,” she says, voice firm. “A black swallowtail. It will become a beautiful butterfly if it makes it through the next stage.”
She carries it a few feet off the path and gently places it on a safe leaf, murmuring something to it before standing again. Then she turns and scowls at me.
“Watch where you’re going.”
She keeps walking without another word.
I stay rooted for a second longer, trying to pull myself together.
My arm still feels the ghost of her fingers.
My chest is tight. I want to reach for her.
I want to pull her against me and breathe in that sweet peach scent until the roaring in my head disappears.
I want things I have no right to want from a girl who clearly thinks I’m an overbearing jerk.
I force my feet to move and follow her the rest of the way out of the woods.
We reach the edge of the woods where the path opens onto the drive leading to the dorm buildings. The lights from the building glow in the distance. Elodie stops and turns to face me, her expression still guarded.
“I can take it from here,” she says firmly. “Thank you… or whatever.”
She doesn’t wait for a response. She stomps off toward her building, shoulders tense.
I stay where I am and watch her go. My instincts refuse to let me turn away until I know she’s safely inside. So I stand in the shadows, arms crossed, eyes fixed on her small figure until she reaches the door.
Then I see it.
A small gray tabby cat slinks out from the bushes and winds around her legs with familiar confidence. Mittens. My cat. The one who hasn’t come back to the pack house in weeks. I had started to worry something had happened to her, that she had been hurt or lost or worse.
Relief hits me hard in the chest. Mittens is safe. And she is with her.
I can’t believe it. My cat has already chosen her. The cat I have been worried about is looking after our omega.
I stay hidden in the shadows long after the door closes behind them, the sweet peach scent still lingering in the air. This girl is ours.
Whether she knows it yet or not, I will protect her.