Chapter 10

10

C av trudged through the snow, thigh-deep in places, his body too damned weak after days spent rutting with his mate. Yet his protective instinct roared in his veins, refusing to stop until his omega was cared for properly. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. His mate. In the span of a week, he'd gone from complete disbeliever to zealot. How could instinct take him from point A to point Z so quickly? A tiny voice of reason whispered questions in the background. How could he love a man he barely knew? Was it truly love or just the demands of his nature? It didn't make sense yet made all the sense in the world.

His body— no, his soul —knew Wynter.

Loved Wynter.

Cav craved the omega with every ounce of his being. The vision of Wynter leaving him and returning to a man who didn't offer all he could made it harder to breathe. They had to convince the alpha to let go and accept the detachment. His mind drifted to whatever the dark secret Wynter held, worried it wouldn't be enough.

As much as it seemed to pain Wynter, it was clearly bad.

Was it bad enough, though?

Regardless, Cav would do everything in his power to make it happen. Fast and quiet, but he'd get loud if he had to, and take as long as was needed to win his mate for good.

Sidling up to the nearest pine on the edge of his property that looked ripe for the cutting, he hefted the axe. The cut in his hand had had days to heal, but he knew he was about to do damage. He'd played it off to Wynter, but it was going to hurt. Freezing to death would hurt more. After getting in position, he took the first swing. The vibration of the wooden handle through his hand set his teeth on edge, but there was no time to sit around and whine.

He continued to strike, pounding away as quickly as he could. Ignoring the blood that soon dripped from his palm only lasted but so long. The handle of the axe slipped in his hands. He wiped the blood from his palm onto his shirt and continued hammering away, sweat heavily dotting his brow. He pushed his spent body well past the point of exhaustion, his muscles aching. More blood pooled on his palm, and he wiped it on the shirt, sensing it was pretty well ruined.

Finally, the tree hit the ground, sinking into the snow. Fuck, I should've cleared that first. He moved it away from the tree, the cold feeling good against his hands, at first. Until it began biting his flesh. Luckily, it helped staunch the bleeding some.

He cut away the smaller branches and used them to brush more of the snow away. Once he had a clearing of sorts, he rose, stretched his back and arms, and cracked his neck. A crunch sounded behind him. He turned, searching the tree line, sensing he wasn't alone.

"Hello?"

Goose bumps skittered over his arms. He moved closer to the trees, where he was sure the noise had come from—but saw nothing.

"Hello!" he called a little more loudly.

A stag jumped from behind some trees and raced away. Cav stood a moment, breathing past the knot in his stomach and thankful it wasn't where his head had gone. He chuckled to release the nerves. The Wildling had come to mind, but there's no way they wouldn't have attacked at their most vulnerable—mid heat and rut. He returned to the tree with a newfound sense of urgency. While he was sure it was just his nerves, he needed to get back.

They also needed to not freeze.

The cold look in the man's eyes sent a shiver down Wynter's spine.

How did he find me?

"Haven't you shamed this family enough, Wynter? Out here in the middle of nowhere, bedding another alpha like some cheap whore?"

Wynter lifted his chin, refusing to allow his papa to get the better of him. Again. "He's my alpha. I belong to him." As much as he belongs to me.

His papa pushed past him and slammed the outer door closed. " Warden Jaymes is your alpha. By law and by right."

"Warden's not my fated mate, but then we've all known that from the start."

"We don't always get a storybook romance. You bedded Warden. You bore his child. You signed the mating contract. Warden owns you."

"I was forced to sign it by you and Daddy." Wynter shook his head. "I was much too young to sign my life away, and you know it!"

"I beg to differ," his papa replied. "Get dressed. You have an alpha and a child waiting for you to return home. Let's go."

"No!" Wynter shook his head. "I'm staying here with Cavanaugh."

He'd stay at least another couple of days. Wynter wasn't due back from the spa until then. He'd have to return long enough to discuss their plan with Warden, but he needed more time to recover first.

And time to plan his future with Cavanaugh.

His papa glared at him, the evil light in the man's eyes striking terror. Wynter lifted his chin and attempted to remain strong, but the doubts whispered in his mind. Their plans for a quick escape were already ruined if his papa knew. They'd have to come up with another tactic. The blackmail. It was the only thing he could use. No one would want the scandal reignited in a new province, not even his parents. "I'll return when I'm ready."

His papa cocked his head to the side, one brow rising. "The attack on the train has been all over the news. It's already reached Alexandria. Warden has been calling, worried sick about you."

"I doubt that."

"He has," his papa replied. "When the spa told him you'd never arrived, he assumed the worst. He called us, in hopes we'd heard from you, but we both know your father and I hadn't. Archie hired an investigator to work with the police, and that's when he learned you weren't in the omega car. You'd been placed in a cabin with an alpha."

Wynter's face reddened.

"Why were you in that alpha's cabin? Did you plan this all along?"

"No!" Wynter argued. "Warden's assistant made the travel arrangements, as far as I know, so you can't blame that mistake on me. Somehow, the cabin was double-booked. There was nowhere else I could go, so the conductor said I could either return home or share the cabin with him."

"You should've chosen home."

"Warden demanded I go. If I returned home, I'd have faced his wrath. Neither option was good. I assumed I could survive a few hours with another alpha and make it to the spa in one piece." Wynter released a shaky breath. "I didn't yet realize he was my fated mate—or that there'd be a Wildling attack on the eve of my heat. Cavanaugh saved my life and once we got here… I went into heat. Nature took its course." He wouldn't mention the prelude they'd had. He'd been the guilty party there, asking the man to bed him.

"The investigator scented sex in the cabin. It took you no time at all to lift your ass and beg him to fill you, did it? But then, I always knew you were a whore."

"Stop calling me that," Wynter spat.

"All while you had an alpha at home, worried sick for your well-being," his papa continued, ignoring him. "Honestly, it's shocked me how worried Warden's been. But then, perhaps he was hoping you were one of the omegas stolen by the Wildlings and he could finally be free of you."

Wynter clenched his teeth at the jab, but then realized it might be the way out they needed. His papa would never agree to help, but he had to ask. "We could tell Warden that I was. He'd never need to know the difference, and he could be free of me."

"No," his papa said scornfully. "You don't get to run away from the responsibilities to your mate and son."

"They'd be happier without me!"

"A child needs his papa."

"I could've done without mine," Wynter snapped.

The backhand that cracked across his cheek sent Wynter sprawling, landing on his ass. The pain radiated over the whole side of his face. He lifted his palm to soothe it, demanding he fight the coming tears. One strike and he was once again a small child, whimpering and begging for the beating to stop.

He'd thought himself free of that horror, the only good part of leaving when he did. Warden might be cruel, but at least he wasn't a violent man. So far.

If Wynter returned with the scent of another alpha? Who knew what Warden might do. Which was worse? His papa or his fraudulent mate?

"Go get dressed before I lose my temper, Wynter."

"Even if I go back, Cavanaugh will follow. He's my alpha. He's not going to simply give in." Wynter eyed the door, once again pleading for an alpha to come to his rescue. He hated how weak he was, incapable of standing up to his own papa. The years away had softened him. The wall he'd built to protect himself against his papa had crumbled. There was no time to rebuild it before the next attack came.

"He won't follow. I'll make sure of that."

Wynter lifted his gaze, the finality in his papa's tone unsettling. "How?"

"Let me worry about that. Go get dressed."

"Tell me how you'll make sure he won't follow." Wynter scrambled to his feet. "Money and power aren't important to him. He won't be bought." A sick sense of dread washed over him.

"Money and power aren't important to him?" His papa scanned the interior of the cabin, disgust written all over his face. "Clearly." He refocused on Wynter. "He has a decent amount socked away in the bank yet lives here like a heathen. Must be that Wildling blood in his veins."

"What are you planning to do to him?"

"You let me worry about Wilder Cavanaugh."

"No!" Wynter commanded, unsettled by the fact his papa knew so much already. How? Was he being followed? "What are you planning to do?"

"You'll be dead."

Wynter's blood ran cold.

"To him," his papa said, grinning evilly. From the smile on his face, he'd intended to cause more dread than necessary—but then, he always had. Manipulation was one of his papa's favorite tools. "We'll stage your death so he can move on and leave you behind."

"That's evil."

"What's evil is putting our family through another scandal. You can only think of yourself, whore." His papa narrowed his eyes. "Another alpha you kneeled to and begged to breed you. You're pathetic."

"I had no control over what happened with Warden. You know that." In all truth, he'd had little control over what had transpired with Cavanaugh, but he wouldn't compare the two in the same breath. For the first time, he'd wanted a man to touch him. Relished it. And he wasn't willing to let that go. "This is the man I choose."

"You've already made your choice."

"No. You and Father made it for me." Wynter sobbed, a lone tear escaping. "Why can't you let me be happy for once in my life?"

"The thought of abandoning your child makes you happy?"

Wynter cringed. "Warden and I could raise Jamie separately, but together. Sharing the responsibilities. If we both wanted our freedom, we could make it work."

"Warden won't let you go. He might not be happy the two of you were forced together, but he won't allow his family's business to be wrecked all because his omega's a whore."

Wynter fought the sting of tears. "Stop calling me that!"

"But you are." His papa smiled grimly. "You were born a whore."

"How can you say that about your own child?"

"You were the bane of my existence. You flirted with your own father as a child."

Wynter gasped, his stomach turning. Bile rose up his throat. "What?"

"I was never so happy until I was rid of you."

Wynter's blood ran cold, staring at the delight on his papa's face.

"Do you think I didn't see how you cuddled on his lap and kissed his cheek ever so sweetly? You had him wrapped around your little finger, and you knew it." His papa narrowed his eyes. "And the times you played his feelings for you off me, wiggling out of the discipline you deserved? You knew what you were doing, as did I. Looking at you disgusted me." His papa scowled. "You're an aberration. A sick, perverted monster."

Wynter fought the urge to vomit.

"I had beat that behavior out of you. It took longer than I thought it would, but eventually, you came to heel. Or so I thought. You were just biding your time, looking for another target. Poor Warden. The first chance you saw to get out from under my thumb, you took it. Bowing to Warden and begging him to breed you so he'd be forced to mate you. Now you've changed your mind again and found another hapless victim, another alpha trapped by your wanton behavior."

Wynter blinked, stunned by his papa's accusations. "What you suggest is vile."

"What you did was vile. If you can't see that, that's not my problem."

"I loved my father… as any child does. Nothing more. I didn't flirt with him." Just saying the words made him want to vomit. "I was a child, seeking the love of a parent." Bile rose in his throat again. "He was the only parent that showed me any sign of affection. You sure as hell didn't."

"Affection? There… you admit it. You sought his affection."

"A parent's love for a child and that child to his parent. Nothing more!" Wynter fought the trembling taking over his hands.

"Your lies are wasted on me," his papa said.

"I don't understand…" Wynter crossed his arms tightly around him. "You're an omega. You know we can't fight our nature. How can you stand there and blame what happened with Warden on me? I had no idea what was happening until the heat ended. I was terrified the entire time. I wept for days after."

It hadn't gotten much better, either. His heats since had been horrendous—until Cavanaugh had showed him they could be so much more.

"All those years desiring your father caused that early heat. I'm sure of it. Your perversions flipped the switch within. I should be glad you didn't end up in bed with one of your brothers—because that's where I suspected you'd end up. Thankfully they were too young and weren't home that night, but if you hadn't trapped Warden? I bet you would've tried to whore yourself to one of them if you'd not made Warden your prey."

"Stop!"

"If you weren't such a whore, none of this would've happened."

"Shut up!" Wynter demanded, covering his ears with both hands.

Tears flowed freely down Wynter's face. To be accused of something so disgusting and twisted? His papa was clearly insane. He glanced back at the door, silently pleading with Cavanaugh to return and save him from it.

His father snatched one of his hands, refusing to be silenced. "The first time I saw you cuddle in your father's lap and flutter your eyelashes at him, I knew you'd tear this family apart. I took it upon myself to ensure you didn't. You tried once, and I repaired what you destroyed. Now, you've made another attempt, but instead of one family, you threaten two—mine and yours. I won't allow you to win. Evil will be banished." His papa ran a thumb over the thick scar at his wrist and sneered before thrusting his hand away. "Too bad you hadn't been successful in that attempt. We wouldn't have this problem now."

Wynter trembled violently, his entire body overwhelmed. How could his papa wish him dead?

"I never did any of the things," Wynter muttered, knowing the only crime he'd committed was greed. He wanted to be with his true alpha, the consequences be damned. "I won't give up Cavanaugh. I refuse to lose him due to your insanity."

"My insanity?" His papa's chilling laugh sent a shiver through him. "Don't try to paint me the villain when this is all your doing. I suspected you'd be selfish—so I came prepared."

Wynter narrowed his eyes.

His papa drew a walkie-talkie from his heavy woolen cloak. Lifting it to his lips, he pressed a button. "Have you got sights on the alpha?"

"I've got the shot. Just awaiting the go-ahead," a disembodied voice said from the other end.

"The shot?" Wynter asked, another wave of cold terror creeping through him.

His papa eyed him. "Either you do as I command, or you lover ends up in the ground. Keep pushing me—him dead makes things so much easier for us all."

Wynter froze, his gaze flicking to his papa's. "You wouldn't…" Another wave of nausea washed over him witnessing the delight in his papa's eyes. "No…"

He'd seen that small smile and the evil intent behind it most of his life—only he hadn't known how deep and dark his papa's well ran. The man's grasp on sanity was tenuous at best.

"I would do just about anything to protect my family from the shame you plan to bring down on us." His papa scowled. "Even now, you could be pregnant with that alpha's baby. Do you have any idea the ramifications of what you've done here? The legacies you could shatter and destroy?"

"You'd kill my alpha and imprison me in hell because of some fictional crimes you believe I committed as a child?"

"I'm trying to save my family! Your father. Your brothers. Me. Not to mention Warden's business and Jamie's future prospects. Hopefully that child is nothing like you. Hopefully he has more of Warden's blood in his veins. Perhaps he will measure up without lifting his ass to any alpha who smiles his way."

Another wave of nausea hit Wynter, and he stumbled toward the back of a nearby chair before his knees went out from under him.

"Our social standing is everything," his papa spat. "It is the currency in which we use to secure our place at the top. Without it, everything fails, Wynter. After the last scandal, we nearly lost it all. The next time it could bankrupt our entire family."

"I don't believe there was a scandal at all. I think it's another fantasy you've manufactured as a means to punish me. There's no way I was the cause for a financial crisis at the bank. I was a child."

"We'd hoped to keep the story quiet. We'd fake your death and send you off with Warden to another province where Ferron and Gage assured they would cover up your sins here. We paid off a doctor for the death certificate and buried an empty coffin in the family plot, publicly mourning you. Sadly, we had a servant with a big mouth. He gossiped with a servant in another house, and it soon erupted like wildfire—as it does."

"Why go to such extremes? Why not tell the truth?"

"You were a fourteen-year-old omega . The shame of that shook our family to the very foundations. We lost hundreds of customers and millions in revenue when the truth was revealed."

Wynter fought his embarrassment, once again reminded of that dark day his childhood had been stolen from him. From the onset, it had been treated as a flaw in his character and he no more understood it five years later than he had as a child. "I'm not the first young omega to go into an early heat. I heard the doctor tell you so after my exam. It wasn't me that caused the scandal—it was likely your attempt to cover it up and fake my death!"

"No. You're not the first, and you won't be the last. But members of our class do not suffer that," his papa spat. "It's a problem for the poor. They might be willing to sell off their babies at a tender age, but for one of the highborn families? We were shamed by you." His papa jabbed a finger into his shoulder, bruising flesh. Wynter stepped back to get away from another, but the backs of his legs hit the chair behind him.

"Everyone in the province saw us as less than… because of you."

Another finger speared into the tender spot where arm met socket.

"We nearly lost everything… because of you."

Another poke.

Wynter shook his head, attempting to turn his nose from his papa's fetid breath. "Nature is the one thing money is powerless against. I am not to blame. Our biologic need is."

His papa smiled, the madness on full display. "I don't think you quite understand me. It's not that it doesn't happen, it's that they're not suffered ."

Wynter frowned.

"My elder brother went into heat around the same age as you."

"There. You admit it," Wynter said, peeling from between his papa and the chair to give himself space. "I'm not even the first in this family. How can you blame me?"

"My father snapped his neck after he was found ass in the air, begging to be bred, in his first heat. That's what I mean when I say we don't suffer them."

Wynter swayed on his feet.

"An omega like you— like him —is a perversion. There is something wrong with your composition. A flaw that must be eradicated from the genetic pool. You're rotten to the core and don't deserve to exist."

"I don't believe that. I won't believe that."

"Archie didn't have the balls my father did. That man still had a weakness for you, even then."

Wynter couldn't breathe. His stomach revolted, and he vomited near his papa's feet. He stumbled back from it before dropping to his knees. Wynter knew he had to be in a nightmare. He slapped his face and pinched his arm, pleading to wake up from it.

More lies. It had to be lies to build terror in his heart and mind.

"Archie and Ferron convinced me to mate you off to Warden. They said it was the humane choice. I was not pleased, but I figured it would get you out of my house and away from my alphas, so I let them make their silly plans. I knew, in time, they'd realize the foolishness of their decision and wish you dead as much as I did."

Tears rolled down his cheeks. "Is that why you're here? To kill me? And Cavanaugh?"

"Oh no. A quick death was a mercy when you were fourteen. Now? I want you to suffer. As I have suffered under the black cloud of your disgrace these last few years. You will know the pain of existing without what you want most in the world—and I will be repaid for the horrors you cast upon us."

"Horrors you cast upon yourself with your lies," Wynter muttered.

His papa yanked him by the hair, forcing him to his knees again. Wynter sobbed, the trauma of his past leaving him incapable of fighting back. "You will take responsibility for your actions! You will do what is commanded of you or, by the gods, I will kill that alpha where he stands and leave you to weep over his corpse!"

His papa flung him by the hair. Wynter slid across the small kitchenette, his back slamming against a wooden cabinet door.

"You are an embarrassment to this family!" His papa released a shaky breath before patting his hair, clearly checking to ensure his perfect braids remained perfect. He took a deep breath and when he began again, his tone was once again measured. "As you have been your entire life. You caused your father and I to become a source of ridicule. We lost customers. Lost standing. We were talked about behind closed doors. We weren't invited to charity galas I'd once chaired. We tumbled, all because of you."

Wynter remained silent, refusing to argue and incur more wrath. He curled into a ball, hugging his knees into his chest and lowering his head, just as he'd done as a child—making himself smaller to protect from another blow.

"I've only just now gotten us back on track in the last few months. I won't allow you to ruin us again."

"Please," Wynter begged, his voice little more than a whisper. "Don't do this. Whatever you're planning, don't."

"You let Warden fill you with a child. You mated him. You are his. You return and live the life you were expected to. Or else."

"Or else what?"

"Either you do as you're told, and Wilder Cavanaugh moves on with his life… or he'll be gotten rid of, and you will know you were the cause of his death."

Wynter's brain began shutting down, the numbness coming as it always had. He welcomed it, as it was better than facing the alternative.

"You don't get handed things in this life, Wynter. You take what you're given and make it work. You will return to Warden and make it work." His papa eyed him. "So, which is it? Do I tell my man to pull the trigger now or no?"

Wynter couldn't breathe. Couldn't speak. The accusations leveled at him were revolting. The fact they'd come from his own papa made it ten million times worse. He'd never understood why his papa had hated him so much—but he'd finally gotten the answer to that mystery.

It was worse than he'd ever suspected.

"A warning shot," his papa said into the walkie.

"No!" Wynter finally screamed too late. In the distance, Wynter heard the crack of a rifle. It wasn't far at all. More tears erupted. "Please, Papa… Don't hurt him."

His papa lifted the walkie to his lips, pressing the button until static sounded. "He still lives?"

"I grazed his head. He's out cold, but still breathing. Awaiting further instruction."

"You shot him in the head?!" Wynter screamed. All instincts roared for him to rush out into the snow and find his alpha. He leapt to his feet and took a step toward the door, but his papa snagged his arm.

"Standby," his papa said into the walkie. He lowered it and eyed Wynter. "Do I tell him to take another shot and end it now?"

"No!" Wynter screamed. He dropped to his knees, lifting his hands, pleading for mercy. "Please… don't hurt him. I'll do whatever you want me to do. Just… don't kill him. Please." Hot tears rolled down his cheeks. "Please, Papa … I'll do what you want. Please."

His papa eyed him, a hint of a satisfied smile appearing. "You'll return to Warden and play the doting omega?"

Wynter sobbed, hard enough for it to make it near impossible to speak. "Yes," he finally sputtered.

"You'll promise to never see Wilder Cavanaugh again?"

Wynter wept, wrapping his arms around himself tight. Never see Cavanaugh again? His heart broke. But at least he'd know his alpha was alive and well. Hopefully the shot hadn't caused real damage—he might never know. "Yes."

"You promise to never open your whore legs to anyone but Warden Jaymes?"

Wynter lifted his gaze, disgust for the man who birthed him making his throat tighten. "Yes."

His papa smiled, triumphant.

"As long as you promise to never touch Cavanaugh. Not one more hair…" Wynter's tears ran warm over his face. "I won't play your game if you harm him."

"Where else would you go if I did?"

Wynter sobbed, shattered by the man's cruelty. "I'd go into the ground with him."

"Aww, if only you showed such loyalty to your family and killed yourself after lying with Warden. But now, it's too late. You have a child and an alpha at home who need you."

"If you wish to torment me—Cavanaugh lives. Untouched. Free to live his life."

His papa scowled. "Fine. I promise not to touch Wilder Cavanaugh," his papa murmured. He lifted the walkie. "Leave the alpha as he is and return to the cabin." He turned to Wynter. "Now get up and wipe your face."

"I want assurances he's alive. And not left to freeze to death in the cold."

His papa glared at him. He sighed dramatically before lifting the walkie. "You're sure he's alive."

"Yes, sir. I'm standing above him, staring at his breathing now."

"We need to ensure he lives. He can't die from the cold or blood loss."

"You want me to rouse him?"

"No!" his papa snapped. "Figure something out."

"Yes, sir."

"I want to see him," Wynter murmured as he struggled to his feet.

"No," his papa said before he walked to the front door and opened it, ushering two big betas inside. "Make it look real."

"Make what look real?"

"As I said, this Cavanaugh person needs to think you're dead or he'll just come looking for you."

Wynter gasped as he watched the pair moving about the cabin, knocking over furniture and tearing through drawers, seemingly searching for something.

"What are you doing?" Wynter asked, watching the men wreak havoc on Cavanaugh's possessions.

"Get your clothes on!" his papa screamed.

His clothing had been all but destroyed, but his tote was somewhere in the cabin. He stumbled around, as if in a daze, but found it seconds before one of the betas snagged it and tossed it about. As he leaned over to pick it up, he found a photo hanging out of a half-smashed frame. It appeared to be Cavanaugh with his brothers. He snatched it quickly and stuffed it into the tote before rising, hoping no one had noticed.

It might be the only thing he had to remind him of the time he'd spent with his alpha. As he stood, he placed a palm to his belly, hoping he might have one more thing, as well. He fished through the tote, but there was no clothing. "The only clothes I have are ruined. Covered in blood." He stood taller, tightening the belt on the robe. It would need to be good enough.

His papa marched closer. "You can't take his clothing." He yanked the robe off Wynter and tossed it across the living room.

Wynter was left naked in front of the two strangers, his body coated in the remnants of the heat he'd shared with Cavanaugh.

His humiliation was complete.

"Let's go," his papa said. He removed his heavy woolen cloak and tossed it Wynter's way. "Best you're not here to see the rest."

"The rest? What more do you have planned?"

His papa didn't answer. He grabbed Wynter by the arm and dragged him outside. Wynter barely had time to get the cloak around him before they exited—him barefoot—onto the snow-covered path made by their march inside.