Chapter Nine

Wade

The wind wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been the night I arrived, but it was still whipping and the temperature was still below zero. It was the reason I gave for staying each day, but if I were being honest with myself, that wasn’t why I was still here, sharing a cabin at a resort I couldn’t pay for, with the alpha who had booked it. Nope. Kurt was.

I could try and convince myself a thousand different ways that it was being so pregnant or cold or tired. At the end of the day, none of that had stopped me from traveling on before. This time it was different, and that difference was the sexy alpha who treated me like I had worth.

Did I love the warm food, the hot showers, the clean clothes, and the soft bed? Of course I did. Who wouldn’t. But if this had been a run-down motor inn with a cracked window and mold on the ceiling, I’d still be here. Kurt tethered me to this place. He was sweet and made me laugh. He treated me like I was someone of worth and not a disgraced rogue. Even when I’d been living in my pack, no one had respected me the way he did. It was a first for me, and an omega could get used to that.

Not one time did I catch him looking at my scars with disgust or discomfort. The only time I saw anything other than “normal” was the occasional anger that crossed his eyes when I mentioned the alpha who had done this to me. Honestly, I was right there with him on that one. That alpha was a piece of shit. If I had been strong enough, brave enough—and not carrying another life—I’d have challenged him.

I wouldn’t have won, but I’d have gone out with a fight. And maybe, just maybe, it would’ve convinced someone else to try and take him out—someone who could succeed.

This morning, I woke up planning to cook for Kurt. He’d been the one making breakfast every morning, always getting up much earlier than I did. But today, the sun was barely up when my eyes cracked open.

I’d love to say it was because I’d had a great night’s sleep—which I had—but no, it was because I had to pee. My sweet baby had shifted and was living on my bladder, making the bathroom my new best friend.

It took a bit, but I managed to climb out of bed and shuffle into the bathroom without too much noise. As I washed my hands, I caught sight of myself in the mirror and froze. I looked…healthier. My eyes were less sunken, and I could tell I’d put on a few pounds. That was a good thing—I’d been woefully underweight when I arrived. I wasn’t perfect, not even close, but I was heading back in the right direction.

If the right direction was lined with cookies.

Oh my Santa, those cookies were delicious. Dipping them in the frosting was everything. I needed to remember that for when my little one was born and ready to create their own Christmas traditions. I still had no idea where we would be next week, much less next year, but that didn’t stop me from musing.

As clever and speedy as I thought I was, when I opened the bathroom door, Kurt was already cooking eggs on the stove.

“You’re too fast,” I said, stretching my arms and inhaling the scent of cooking eggs and butter. “I was going to make breakfast today.”

“Nah, breakfast is my thing. You can make lunch.”

He looked at me briefly before turning back to the stove. I wasn’t sure what he saw, but it made him smile and, in turn, had me smiling right back.

We ate breakfast and then returned to our game, the one we’d been playing the past couple of days. The closet had a bunch of board games, most of which I’d never heard of, including a role-playing one where we had to save a princess from dragons in the land of fae. It was so clearly made by humans—they got almost everything wrong about both fae and dragons—but it was fun. We’d played for an hour or two every morning since we discovered it, and it was a great way to ease into the day.

I wasn’t sure how many days it would take to finish the game, but I loved that it continued each time we played. Unlike chess, where he beat me in about three moves. I’d never been great at chess, but whoa, he was amazing at it.

For lunch, I “cooked” sandwiches, and he insisted on cleaning up. I padded over to the window to see if the snow I’d scented in the air last night had arrived or not.

“What do you see?” His voice startled me as he came up behind me.

“Nothing new.” I stepped to the side so he could see as well. “I was just thinking about how much my wolf loves the snow.”

“Do you miss him?”

I turned to face him. “What do you mean?”

“Do you miss not being able to have your wolf?”

“Oh, I have my wolf. He’s here with me. He just can’t come out and play. But yeah, I do miss it. That day, when you walked me back from the main house with the cookies, he really wanted to join you.”

“Maybe after…” he started, then stopped.

He had to see there couldn’t be an “after.” He was the alpha of a pack, and, as nice as he was, they wouldn’t accept me. And if he forced them, they’d never fully accept him. That was the way of things.

Before I could muster the courage to explain all of that to him, in case he was truly living in a happy happy bubble, the kettle went off. It was teatime.

I’d been drinking a lot of tea lately. It was better for baby than coffee—or the gallons of cocoa, which were my other hot beverage options.

As we sat down for what had quickly become our afternoon routine of hot drinks and cookies, there was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” I said, pushing myself up from my seat.

I could tell Kurt was itching to tell me he would handle it, but he tried not to tell me what to do after hearing my story. I appreciated it. Not that this would have been him telling me what to do—it would’ve been him trying to take care of me, but still…

When I opened the door, Elias stood there holding what I initially thought were badminton rackets.

“Hello.”

“Well, let me in—it’s cold out here!” Of course he was cold. Elias was wearing nothing more than a red hoodie with white faux fur trim and skinny jeans and boots. Fashion over comfort—that was Elias. The complete opposite of me.

“I found these when I was looking for craft supplies. Thought you might like them.”

“What are they?”

“Snowshoes,” he said, pulling a bag from his shoulder. He handed me two boots from inside. “I think these will fit you. They’re warm and comfortable.” He shivered. “No offense, I just can’t be seen in these, and I think we are about the same size.”

I wasn’t sure if he was being truthful or trying to give me the boots without making me feel bad. Either way, I accepted. My shoes weren’t holding up well and did nothing for the cold.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime. I figured you could go out with your wolf.”

“Oh, my wolf can’t—” Then it dawned on me what he was saying. “Oh. He’s not…” I snapped my mouth closed, unsure how to back out of this conversation and opted the flight mentality. “I’m gonna put these in the other room.” I left him where he stood.

When I came back out, Kurt and Elias were deep in conversation about some glitter project at the main house. Apparently Theo was worried about it getting everywhere. He had every right to be. Glitter perseveres.

Before long, Elias was on his way, and Kurt and I were getting ready for a walk through the snow.

“Have you ever snowshoed before?” Kurt asked.

“No.” My wolf loved the snow, so there’d been no reason to.

“I don’t think it’s that hard.” He didn’t sound so sure.

“I don’t know. It’s worth trying.” And now that we were doing this, I was full-on excited.

“Let’s get you buckled up and warm. And before you even try to stop me, I’m giving you my coat. It’s longer than yours, and it’ll keep you warm.”

“I gladly accept.”

Ten minutes later, we were walking through the woods together, his wolf beside me. I chatted his ear off about the trees and the types of birds I imagined lived there in the warmer months.

We came to a small pine.

“I used to think how nice it would be to have a Christmas tree like this one.”

He rubbed his head against my leg in response.

“You would, too, huh?” I reached down to pet him, my gloves brushing his fur. I longed to pull them off and feel his fur with my bare hands, but I didn’t.

That wasn’t something for now—probably not ever. This would have to do.