“Yes, but then we could both be injured, and that would be arguably worse.”
When Oberon had slipped, he’d purposefully pushed Fenrir away instead of grabbing onto him. That was why he’d rolled down the hill on his own, instead of accidentally taking Fen with him.
In the seclusion of the cave, Fenrir had been able to trick himself, but now…
This alpha was sincere. He’d proven himself.
And Fen had yet to tell him the truth of how they’d been discovered.
“Why’d you do it?” Fenrir’s voice dropped low as they turned onto another side street, this one decorated in strings of vibrant rainbow lights. Illuminated umbrellas dangled from the wires, water droplets catching the glow and glittering as they tumbled to the pavement.
It was a cold night and there weren’t many people out, but the sound of laughter carried on the wind every now and again, and every business they passed was open and had at least a handful of noticeable patrons. He should be asking where they were, not about the claiming bite. Should be insisting they get medical help, since it was becoming pretty apparent that’s not where the alpha was currently leading them.
Every establishment in the last five minutes had either been a restaurant or a pub.
“Do what?” Oberon asked. “I’ve made a lot of questionable choices this month. You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Oh.” He tried to block out the hurt that came with that blasé statement but failed miserably.
“Were you asking about the bite?” the alpha realized. “Don’t pout, precious. Just because I said they were questionable doesn’t mean I regret any of my decisions. Especially not the one to claim you.”
“Why? We’re strangers and enemies. What possible reason—”
“One, we aren’t strangers. I know what it’s like to be inside of you. No one else can say that. That makes me special. If someone is special to you, they can’t be a stranger, can they?”
That was a ridiculous way of looking at things.
“Two, we aren’t enemies. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Michelle is a nuisance to the White Frost, but to you? You hate her.”
“I was at the auction to lure one of you infor her.”
“Sure, but—”
“How do you think they found us?” Part of Fenrir screamed at him to shut the fuck up. He’d had an alpha less than a week, and he might be about to blow it. All his comments aside, Oberon was still White Frost. They valued loyalty.
Would he leave him once he found out about his hacked multi-slate?
Oberon hadn’t asked about it once, hadn’t so much as wondered aloud how Michelle could have found them, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t thinking about it. He’d want to find the information leak, and once he did, and it led back to Fen…
There was security in being someone’s claimed omega, a security unlike anything else.
But he also didn’t want to fall for the same trick twice.
On some level, Fenrir had always known Michelle’s manipulation ran deeper than he was aware. He simply hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it, for fear it would send him spiraling all over again. There had to be one thing he could hold on to. Something that gave him hope for a better future, and at the time, all he’d had were her lies to rely on.
He’d taken the coward's way out.
Never again.
Even if confronting the truth risked being abandoned by Oberon, better to discover their “bond” was that fragile now instead of later, after Fen had allowed himself to fall for him completely.
He’d confess. Tell him and see—
“This one.” Oberon stopped them in front of a single-level, gray sandstone structure.
Seeing the alpha wouldn’t be able to remain upright much longer, Fenrir acquiesced and helped Oberon with the door.
They stepped out of the chilled night and were instantly engulfed by a thick warmth that brought with it the smell of hops and cedar. A lively tune played from hidden speakers, the volume kept low enough not to interfere with customers chatting. Several of the tables were occupied by one or more people, but the place was homey, cluttered in a way that had Fenrir’s eyes pinging around in a poor attempt to take it all in.