“It was a game,” Oberon corrected.
“Lugging you through the snow, afraid you’d freeze to death before we got here, is not a game.” He closed the kit and then crossed to the other side of the room, placing it on the shelving units. They needed sustenance, and he scanned the food items, noting many were perishables. “Why did you stock so much stuff that can go bad?”
“It tastes better.”
He scowled.
“It’s fine. Someone comes to check up on the place regularly. They replace the bedding, vacuum—”
“You have someone vacuum a cave?” Ridiculous. “Also, if someone comes to throw out bad food, surely they could have returned the multi-slate you took.”
“It slipped my mind?”
“Fantastic.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“That I’m mated to a moron? Kind of is.”
The pheromones shifted, going from soft and sweet to edged. The alpha’s voice was deeper as well the next time he spoke.
“You’re stuck with me,” Oberon stated. “And I don’t just mean because of the storm.”
Fenrir tsked and spun on his heels, heading straight to the exit.
“Where are you going?”
“Out,” Fen said. “A blizzard can’t contain me. I’ll melt a path from here to town and—”
The alpha came up behind him, one arm wrapping tightly around his waist, the other securing him around the chest. With a sigh, he rested his chin on Fenrir’s right shoulder, and then nuzzled against him, using the glands hidden on the curve of his jaw.
“What are you doing?” Fen asked.
“Scenting you.” He pressed his wrists on him and rubbed as well, motions careful and limited since he refused to release Fenrir to do it properly.
Omegas and alphas could scent their partner, an act done by releasing pheromones from various glands on their bodies. It was an act of possessiveness more than anything, meant to warn off others who might show an interest and alert them that the person was already taken.
“We’re alone here,” Fenrir reminded. “There’s no need for this. It’ll fade long before I make it into town.”
“You aren’t going anywhere.”
“King, you’ll be fine here on your own. I’ll—”
“I won’t be fine without you ever again,” he growled. “And I don’t intend to try and find out otherwise. I’m staying, so you’re staying. This isn’t up for debate.”
Fen tilted his head but didn’t try to pull away. Outside, the storm continued to rage, the snow coming up at least three feet, easily visible against the one-way screen. Even if Michelle’s men were still out there, they’d struggle to find their way through this mess, and the alpha’s injury wasn’t as bad as he’d initially believed.
“We’re safer here,” Oberon’s tone turned coaxing, the hand around his waist slipping lower. “I’m safer.”
“You were shot.”
“I’m a dominant alpha. This? I can heal this in a day. But if you’re so concerned, I have a better way you can help me than by braving the cold. Pheromone exchange between a mated pair will greatly increase the process.”
He should have known.
Grabbing onto the alpha’s wrist when his fingers went to dip beneath Fenrir’s waistband, he let out a warning sound. “I am not sleeping with you a couple of hours after you’ve been shot. Let go.”
“You're forgetting who the alpha in this relationship is.”