A bark of laughter escapes me. “Yeah, ‘cause nothing says ‘trust us’ like chasing someone through the woods like psychos, then offering them dinner.”
Darius glares at me. “You got a better idea, Archer?”
I shrug. “Just saying, might be a little late for the charm offensive.”
Elias, apparently recovered from his nut shot, pipes up. “I’ve got it!” He’s practically vibrating. “We wear masks!”
We all stare at him.
“Think about it,” he continues, grinning. “It’s Halloween, right? So we wear masks, and she won’t recognize us!”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Fuck, Elias, you really do think with your dick, don’t you?”
But Darius is nodding, a manic look in his eye. “It’s not the worst idea. Might catch her off guard.”
I look around at my packmates. A bunch of alphas, drunk on the scent of an omega, ready to do something monumentally stupid. Darius’ obsessive need to control everything. Elias can’t keep it in his pants for five minutes. And Silas hasn’t taken his eyes off the treeline, like she might come walking out at any second.
But fuck it.
Maybe we need this. MaybeIneed this. We’ve been stuck in survival mode for years, holding the pack together through sheer stubbornness and the fact that none of us have anywhere else to go. Something about that omega cut through the fog. I knew it the moment I caught her scent.
She’s not what any of us expected, which is probably exactly why none of us can let this go.
I should probably be the voice of reason. Talk Darius down from this insane plan and point out all the ways it could go sideways. But the truth is, the image of her has gotten hold of me, too. And the guys are so amped up right now that reason wouldn’t land, anyway.
“Fine,” I say. “But when she cuts our balls off and feeds them to us, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
6
Mo
Ijolt awake to the damp chill of the cave seeping into my bones.
Another day in paradise.
I drag myself up and survey my new digs. A dingy hole in the ground, barely big enough to stand in, and about as welcoming as a grave. But it’s mine, and that’s what matters.
“Home sweet hellhole,” I mutter, grabbing some rocks to fashion a half-assed fire pit.
My stomach growls while I’m lugging branches to cover the entrance. Loud enough that anything within a mile probably heard it.
Time to hunt.
I strip down and let the shift take over. Bones crack, muscles ripple, fur sprouts across my body. In moments, I’m on four paws, my senses sharper than ever. The world opens up into layers of sound and scent. Wind through leaves, the rich muskof soil beneath my claws, the faint trail of a rabbit somewhere to the east.
The forest is alive with prey, and I’m hungry enough to eat just about anything that moves. I take down a plump rabbit, hot blood filling my mouth as my wolf sinks her teeth into its fur.
The animal inside me loves the kill. My human side still gags a little, but I’ve gotten used to it. Out here, you do what you have to.
Back at the cave, I shift and get a fire going. The sizzle and pop of cooking meat is the best sound I’ve heard in days.
“Goddamn, that hits the spot,” I groan around a mouthful of rabbit. For the first time in what feels like forever, heat blooms in my belly and spreads outward.
A twig cracks somewhere close. I freeze, every muscle going taut. “Shit,” I hiss, scanning the forest—and that’s when I see them.
Figures moving between the trees, their faces hidden behind masks. One of them wears a clown mask with a garish painted grin that turns my stomach.
“There you are, little omega,” a deep voice calls. “Don’t make us do this the hard way.”