Chapter Twenty-One

Jackson woke me up so early that I wondered if I actually got any sleep. I was moving so slowly as I got ready, unable to even muster a thank you to Jackson who laid out the clothes he wanted me to wear.

I wanted to ask what kind of date demanded that we get up before the fucking sun, only I couldn’t seem to convince my tongue to move.

We weren’t the only ones who got up, though. Sebastian was mysteriously missing from the nest and as soon as I woke up more, I planned on finding the energy to worry about that.

My head was resting against the cold counter of the island, the position weirdly comfortable, although that might have simply been because of how tired I was. Jackson was packing up our bags with snacks and water bottles and different sprays that I didn’t bother investigating to their actual use.

Something was set on my head, and it took a lot of effort on my part to raise my hand, feeling the fabric of a hat. Apparently, we were going outside.

“What time is it?” I managed to croak out.

“A little after 4:00,” Jackson said, sounding as awake as if he’d said noon.

“In the morning?”

My mate was lucky that I was too tired to even complain about wanting more sleep or I couldn’t guarantee this date would happen. I knew Jackson woke up early to work out, but I never knew he woke up this early. How did he even function the rest of the day?

Closing my eyes felt so good, as if keeping them open was an exercise in itself.

Something loud slammed down beside me, and I jumped, the momentary shot of adrenaline in my system making me feel awake.

“Drink up, princess.” Sebastian handed me a cup, the clear plastic with a simple logo of a muscular bicep, before kissing my temple.

I wasn’t particularly hungry, but a smoothie wasn’t really food, so I took a sip. The fruit flavor was fine, but it had a weird chalk aftertaste that clung to my tongue.

“Let me try.” Jackson grabbed the drink from me before I could warn him about the lingering aftertaste, and he handed me the drink Sebastian had handed him. “This is good. Try mine, rebel, we need to be heading out.”

Jackson’s drink was a mix of chocolate and coffee, and it was delicious. I swore that I could almost feel the energy from the drink seeping into my veins and waking me up.

“Good, time to go,” Jackson said, grabbing both backpacks and his drink.

I hugged Sebastian, who yawned and then told me to be safe, before I followed Jackson out to the car. As soon as I was seated, he started the car and took off, his hand on my knee in a casual touch.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a hiking path about two hours away that should be hidden enough for us to have a chat, work out some plans, without crossing paths with anyone.”

It was still dark outside, and I was pretty sure that even two hours wasn’t enough time for the sun to wake up, but I had the seat heater on, and my delicious smelling crisp apple mate, along with a thick smoothie to chug down. I was perfectly content on the long ass drive.

Reaching down, I untied my shoes and pulled my feet up to rest on the seat. “Am I technically allowed to be out this early?”

“Nope. But all our cars have tinted windows, and I don’t break any driving laws, so we’ll be fine.”

“It’s the dumbest rule,” I tell him, although he already knows. “It doesn’t even consider kids who haven’t fallen into their designation yet. Are children not allowed outside anymore? And what’s the punishment if an omega is even caught outside? A fine? Jail time?”

That last option made me snort. It was hard to have legal recourse for omegas when no one deemed us as smart enough, strong enough, or capable of anything.

“Do you think there’s ever been an omega murderer?” I asked my mate.

Jackson laughed. Loud and boisterous to the point that I was mildly worried he would forget he was driving. “Thinking of becoming a murderess, rebel?”

I shrugged. “I was just wondering what sort of legal punishments omegas actually face.”

“Usually, the recoil lands on their alphas. For negligence, endangering the public, bullshit names that take humanity away from omegas.”

“But that’s only if the omega was bonded. What if they weren’t?”

“It’s a good question.”

It was also one I would never get an answer to.

For the rest of the drive, we talked about random things. I was definitely awake, just not functioning at full capacity yet. By the time we arrived at the dirt parking lot, the sun was just starting to rise, although we would definitely be needing flashlights and jackets for this beginning portion.

Jackson’s backpack was significantly fuller than mine. The straps over his shoulders made his arms and chest look wider. Stronger. Like he could still pick me up and carry me with ease as he hiked.

For the first few minutes, we walked in silence, getting our bearings with the flashlights and warming up our bodies against the chill. Me probably more than him.

Eventually, Jackson broke our comfortable silence. “You want to talk about this interview?”

“What is there to talk about?”

“I think you should do it.”

I had no idea what I expected Jackson to say, but that wasn’t it. My feet literally stumbled over each other before I caught myself.

“What? Why?”

“Isn’t this what you wanted? You were so adamant before about wanting to go to the reporters and tell them your side. This is a perfect opportunity to do that.”

“I don’t trust whoever Adam trusts.”

“That’s why it’s actually beneficial we have a few weeks to prepare you.”

Prepare me? For what? I was only getting more confused from this conversation. “I thought you wanted me to stay out of the public’s attention. What happened to us being behind the scenes?”

“We’d love it if everyone outside of our pack stopped showing your image and using your name. Unfortunately, that just isn’t happening. On the most basic of levels, Adam was right. Until the public feels like they’ve wrung out all the information they can from you, they’re going to keep using you.”

“Then maybe we should do an interview on our own, without Adam’s guiding hand. Tell him that it’s an excellent idea and that we’re going to refuse his offer but take up his idea.”

“We could. Sebastian certainly has enough social ego to wield as justification.”

“But?” I asked, because I could sense it even if he didn’t say it.

“But, if you’re going to do this, I think it would have a stronger effect if it was preluded by Adam’s hand pushing you to speak. I was thinking about what Eve said, how the OC is keeping tabs on you but holding back on pressing charges against us…”

I sucked in a breath. I had completely forgotten about that. I’d been so busy dealing with the actual ramifications of my forced publicity that I’d forgotten the worst hadn’t come yet, that it was still hanging over my head like a hat you get so used to wearing you forget that it’s blocking the sun until you take it off. Then you’re fucking blinded by the brightness.

“We can’t do the interview,” I told him. “I’m not risking the OC pulling up charges against you.”

No way. Absolutely no way. I couldn’t even believe that Jackson was considering going through with this when my mates could wind up in jail for a decision I made. I was almost angry at him for being so willing to face the charges. But I was not going to be letting that happen.

“You don’t want to hear my plan?” he asked.

“What plan?”

“The one I made last night when Adam focused all his attention on Seb.”

“A plan that’s completely new and hasn’t been run by any of the others?”

“That’s the one.”

I wasn’t going to agree to it, I already knew that. Still, I figured agreeing to hear would be fine. Then I could point out all the plot holes. Except, rather than a loosely thrown together timeline of events, I realized why Jackson felt comfortable suggesting this path.

I couldn’t stop myself from interrupting with questions. “Is Eve even willing to work with us?”

“We won’t know until we ask, but I think so. She did come to warn you, that has to count for something.”

“And what happens if it all goes to shit? If the OC does press charges and Adam gets his votes and the public turns against me?”

“We leave.”

“Just like that?”

My breathing became heavier as the trail turned more into a hike than a walk. It was hard to think when I was doing my best to get my lungs to keep expanding and ignoring the dry scratch in my throat. No matter how much I drank, it was like my throat simply wasn’t getting any of the liquid goodness.

“Sometimes, you have to save yourself,” Jackson said.

I wanted to argue. Omegas weren’t rare, we were just hidden, forced into shadows and nooks and crannies. They needed someone to stand up for them, to be their voice, and demand to be seen. I’d always thought that was me—yet I’ve hated being in the limelight.

I could admit, even just to myself, that part of my resistance to not doing Adam’s interview came from the memory of the reporters surrounding me. My mate protected me then, but it felt like without him, I would have been trampled. They would have simply watched me crawl into a corner and freak out without offering a helping hand. It was strange to look at strangers and realize they didn’t care.

Maybe that’s where Jackson’s insistence on being behind the scenes truly came from. Another version of protecting me, even from myself.

For so long, I wanted to be the person that made the difference, and here I was, rejecting that offer.

“If I did the interview, what’s to stop Adam from refusing to release it?” I asked, almost panting between each word.

“He won’t have a choice. It’ll be live.”

Needing to think, I stopped walking, my mate easily staying with me. Despite the chilly air, I was sweating, and a good portion of my first water bottle was already gone. I’d been so distracted with our discussion that I’d barely taken in the view beyond watching where I was stepping.

It was beautiful, the way nature always was. Personally, I preferred to see the beauty of trees and animals and whatnot from my airconditioned home without the sweat and bugs.

Jackson swung his backpack around and pulled out a healthy bar for us to snack on while we enjoyed the temporary break in silence. Just this slight pause and I felt like my brain was working properly again.

“If I did this interview, what do you think will happen?” I stared at my mate, not so much as glancing away from his gaze. “Not what you hope will happen, what do you think will happen?”

“I think … Adam will lose the vote. I think every time an issue comes up for omegas, you’ll be expected to play politics. I think you’re going to lose a lot of your private life. Your followers will be as plentiful as your opponents. I worry how you’ll take the stress if you do this, and I worry how you’ll handle the guilt if you don’t. I also think that you’ll probably drop your classes.”

“What? Why?” That seemed like the opposite of helping my designation. Except, once the initial shock of his words settled, I realized, he was probably right. I only took classes because I wanted to prove an omega could complete them. Yet my little non-major courses were nothing compared to Koda’s high-level degree. She was doing something impressive, and I could do something equally so, if I chose this new plan.

He shrugged, readjusting his backpack, getting ready to start walking again. I followed his lead, and we continued on.

“You’ve had two major traumatic instances in the last few months. And both of them have changed you. The first made you braver. You forgot all the times you’ve fought and lost. You forgot how long it had been between your protests and you were ready to get back out there. Then your date with Seb happened. It crushed your hope, hearing petty questions from people who wouldn’t have spit on you if you were on fire.”

“Gross.”

“You know what I mean. I need you to want it, either way. Sebastian and Han can help you with doubletalk, so you don’t get manipulated in interviews. And I’m going to help you train.”

“Train for what?”

“To be stronger. Faster. How to balance. I’ve always said I would be around to protect you, and then I wasn’t. If something like that ever happens again, I want you to get away. I was also thinking about getting you a gun.”

That last part had me choking on air.

“Better safe than sorry, rebel. Don’t worry, though. I’ll be taking you to the range, so you’ll be an expert by the time you actually start carrying. Plus, I coated it in pink.”

He was bribing me with a pink gun … and it was working. I could already imagine the blurry face racing after me, before I turned around, whipping out my tiny pink weapon. They’d laugh, and it would be the last thing they’d ever do.

I didn’t ask if it was legal for me to carry a weapon, because I already knew the answer. I also didn’t ask how Jackson managed to procure one for me. Or make it pink.

My hand ran over my head, feeling the pricks from my hair ends. Zeke was the one keeping up with my haircuts since it was growing crazy quickly this short. That also meant dying it a lot, although we were able to reuse containers considering how little dye was actually needed for each touch-up. I had no plans to grow it out yet, especially since my mate was still keeping a shaved heart around my scar.

As my thoughts went back to our conversation, I felt myself on a precipice. To help the other omegas or ensure my pack stayed together. What was I willing to risk? Either way, it felt like a lot.

The trail we were on led us to a gorgeous view of a lake. Despite the whole trail being quiet, there was something extra serene about this area. Maybe it was because we weren’t walking anymore so I wasn’t panting out each breath, disturbing nature with my need to breathe.

Then, disturbing the beautiful peace, was a soft alarm coming from Jackson.

He had a thick watch on his wrist which was making the noise. A quick tap of a button made it stop.

It definitely wasn’t a wake-up alarm considering that it took a few hours to get here and then even more to hike to this spot. Maybe it was for him to actually start work?

“What time is it?” I asked.

“7:00.”

I felt my whole face frown. My lips pulling down, my eyebrows coming together, even the slight scrunch in my nose.

“Omegas can officially leave their home with supervision.”

A growl started in my chest, my annoyance and frustration and anger all perfuming around me in a toxic cloud. I stared out at the still water, trying to distract myself with the calm I had somehow found before.

Off to the side was a little wooden sign. Stomping my way over to it, I read the faded words thanking someone for caring enough to protect this natural water landmark.

The kind words only had me growling more.

Of course someone would have had to put in effort to save this place—because apparently morals meant nothing. Right and wrong simply didn’t exist. You had to work for everything in life. Like saving a plot of water. Stopping omegas from being systemically abused.

“When we get back, let’s call Eve,” I told my mate. “If she’s willing to help, then I’m all in.”

I’d always hated that the other omegas didn’t blatantly fight back. In the beginning, it had come too easy to me. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. For this next round, I had everything to lose, and everything to gain.

And I wanted everything so bad. I wanted the freedom and my pack. I wanted the social acceptance and the legal change.

I thought about Koda, how all she wanted was to be able to learn like everyone else. I thought about Eve and how everyone had forced her into believing she was somehow less. I thought of old Hannah, who’d been reckless and brave and desperate.

The Omega Compound was threatening us. Adam was attempting to back us into a corner. This was the time to fight back or cower. To play their game or forfeit.

Jackson grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the lake and back on the trail. I was a mix of anger and confidence, feeling like I could have set the world on fire. Like I could literally kick ass if needed.

Speaking of which. “Earlier? When you said train me? What does that mean?”

“That means cardio several times a week. Weight training, too. Stretching every night and as many hikes we can fit in for overall body strength. Hearty foods, protein in your smoothies. On the weekends, weapons so you know how to load and unload and clean and fire.”

I groaned, hating all of those ideas. I wanted a bed, a nest, and an unscheduled mealtime. Fucking alpha extremist assholes making me have to work out.

“Ready to start now?” Jackson asked.

There was something in his voice that pulled my attention away from my internal tantrum. He sounded excited, definitely too excited for me to simply workout.

“I thought we already had. We’re literally on a hike.”

“We’re walking, not running.”

My eyes went wide as I stared at him. Running this path? I was already huffing and puffing just from the speed we were going. Any faster and I was pretty sure my body would give out.

“I’ll even give you a few second lead. Start running now, and when I catch you, I’m going to fuck you.”

Arousal. That was the emotion I’d detected. I was so tired that I hadn’t even considered trying to identify that scent.

I was paying attention now. His words excited something primal inside me, wanting him to chase me, dominate me.

“Just run?” I asked.

“Run, rebel. Don’t worry, I’ll find you quickly.”

I was already breathing hard as I looked around, trying to figure out which direction I wanted to run in, then I took off. I wasn’t feeling tired anymore—I felt alive. Like I could’ve run forever.

Rather than head back down the trail, or toward the water, I went off in the opposite direction. It was open, which meant he’d easily be able to see me, but hiding wasn’t truly the point. The point was the arousal currently flooding my system. The pleasure and excitement and even slight anxiety that came from trying to hide.

Eventually, the flat land began to rise and fall, just subtly enough that I could feel it in my calves. I started turning, aiming in the direction I thought was further away from the parking lot, although I had no clue if I was even correct in my directional assumption.

A few skinny trees appeared randomly, spread out like they sucked out all the water in the surrounding area forcing nothing else to exist nearby. They made me think of weeds, really tall weeds that just managed to push their way to the surface to survive.

I heard him first. The sound of his boots slamming against the earth.

A burst of energy helped me sprint, but I was sucking in as much air as I could. My backpack was bouncing against my back, my legs starting to slow down even as I tried to make them move faster.

All of a sudden, I wasn’t running anymore. Arms wrapped around me as I fell, my knees and hands scraping against the dirt. Most likely, I’d scratched up my body, but I didn’t care. The slight biting pain mixed with my excitement, adding to my pleasure.

“Caught you,” he said, the words heavy in my ears.

Behind me, I felt him press his hand between my shoulder blades, pushing me into the position he wanted. My chest wasn’t all the way on the ground because I was breathing so hard, and I didn’t want to inhale dirt. Arching my back, I shook my hips, wishing I had something to grab onto like bed sheets.

His apple scent was strong with his arousal, my own lavender tainted arousal blooming too. I was nervous about being in public, not that I wanted to stop.

I still had my pants on, and Jackson had his, yet I could feel the pressure of his hard cock pressing between my legs, teasing me. My core was already wet, already ready for my mate to thrust inside me whenever he stopped playing with me.

His hand cupped between my legs, over my clothes and feeling my center, as he groaned. “You’re soaking wet for me, rebel.”

A whimper came from my throat.

Jackson pulled my pants down to my knees before shoving my legs together. He took a moment to unzip himself and then he thrusted inside me without hesitation.

In this position, with my thighs pressed together, on all fours, he felt huge inside me. His hands wrapped around my waist, yanking me back with each of his thrusts, slamming into me hard enough that I wondered if his thighs would leave bruises against mine.

This was fast and hard, brutal and efficient.

The anticipation from my run, the feel of his cock hitting that perfect spot, had me already close to my orgasm. Then one of his hands went to my nape, the spot where he’d claimed me, his fingers tightening around his mark. His other hand wrapped around my front, seeking out my clit to rub gentle circles on the nub.

“Fuck yourself on my cock, Hannah,” Jackson told me. “I want you to make me come, beg me to knot you here.”

My body instantly obeyed, moving myself back and forth over his cock, forcing my already exhausted muscles to ignore the burn, ignore the shake. I needed my orgasm more than I needed rest. Needed his knot more than I needed water.

“Please knot me, Jackson. Fucking, please. I want to feel the pressure from your knot. I want to come, please, alpha.”

He groaned, both of his hands tightening, working harder to drive me crazy. I was moving as best as I could, caught between his hands, using my pussy to jerk him off. So close, my orgasm was so close, and I was crying, begging him and my body to both give in.

Then he squeezed my clit, pinching the bud between his fingers and making me scream through an orgasm. It was so strong, my muscles finally gave in to the fatigue, giving up holding my weight. Jackson caught me, pulling my chest back toward his until I winced from the pressure on my knees. I was definitely feeling those scrapes.

I felt more than heard him chuckle, purring loudly as he worked one-handed to zip himself up and then somehow manage to stand, from his knees, while holding me like I was a front backpack.

This type of multi-week workout I could get behind.