Chapter Ten

Willow

I don’t normally see Kane during the day. He hangs around until I’m more or less recovered, but then he slinks off—returning only when he gets hungry.

I try to tailor my meals around the meat he delivers. Roasted fish with greens. Slow-cooked rabbit and mushrooms. Crispy squirrel and berries (okay, fine, I was running out of ideas). Every time, I’m surprised to find him eat his entire serving, then some. Kane doesn’t strike me as the eat-your-greens kind of alpha, though, maybe that’s been more out of convenience.

That’s what I am to him, I decide. Convenient.

He keeps to his word, barely grunting out a ‘hello’ before he walks himself to the tub. Soon after he returns, cursing, to dry off in front of the fire.

“Happy?” he asks, his naked chest still dripping. I can’t stop myself from studying his scars, or the taut, shuddering muscles they adorn.

‘Happy’ is one word for it, my omega preens.

Suddenly he stiffens, craning his head to look at me. “Sure smell happy.”

I hastily look away.

We’re eating in silence, like normal. I glare into the fire while Kane wolfs back his second serving. The cabin feels ten times warmer with him here, and not just because he stokes the flames better than I can. It’s him. Pure, hot-blooded alpha, his pheromones filling out the room like cinnamon-scented steam.

My nose wrinkles. Cinnamon plus grime.

“Your cloak,” I blurt out. “Give it to me.”

He tips his bowl back, getting the last of the broth, then scowls. “You can’t still be cold.”

“Just hand it over.”

Begrudgingly, he fists the tattered fabric, hauling it at me. Pungent earth smells waft up nose.

Bingo.

Standing, clutching the cloak to my chest, I don’t think before I speak. “Your pants, too.”

Kane’s eyes widen with a rare glimpse of shock. “My what?”

Well, it’s too late to back out now. The longer I stand here, blushing like a pup, the more he’ll scent my nerves.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” I huff. “I’m just washing them. You know, the thing you’re supposed to do when they’re all covered in blood.”

He stares at me like I’ve sprouted a second head. “You really want me sitting buck-naked in your cabin, omega?”

Granted—I did not think this all the way through.

“Obviously not,” I snap. “I’ll give you a blanket.”

I can hardly bear the way he just keeps staring . Goosebumps flood my skin, like I’m not sure whether I want him to keep looking, or please, god, look away.

Finally, he rises, and—without averting his gaze—undoes the top button on his pants.

I spin around. “Kane!”

“What?” I hear fabric rustle and drop. “ Now you’re shy?”

He’s right. I am the one who just invited a rogue alpha to undress right in front of me.

Kane tosses his pants—the soiled, rumpled fabric landing right by my feet. Swallowing, I crouch down, suddenly aware that he could very well take this as an opportunity to mount me, right here and now. I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

They’re laughing. I’m crying, screaming, and they’re still laughing.

But the room is quiet. No sound but the crackling fire and the blood roaring in my ears. I feel a chirp rise in the back of my throat—my inner omega desperate for this rogue, naked alpha’s protection. I manage to swallow it back just in time.

Then, snatching Kane’s pants, I hurry out the door.

To my relief, and my omega’s disappointment, he does not follow.

***

There are some things I try not to admit to myself, as the week comes and goes, and winter hits us in full force.

First, Kane was right: I would not survive this without him.

And second, I have less nightmares when he’s here.

He normally finds an excuse to slip out before it gets too dark. I suspect he’s got a chip on his shoulder; trying to prove he’s tough enough to brave these winter nights out in a cave somewhere.

When he does stay, the whole cabin is warm. He must change the logs overnight, because when I wake up, he’s gone, and the fire is still burning.

And when he doesn’t stay …

I lurch up, drenched in icy sweat. My throat is raw and my temples throb, though whether that’s from the cold or the crying, I’m not sure.

Crying and crying, my whole body like an open wound, not sure if I’m bleeding or sweating or both—

“You’re ours now, princess.”

That’s why their laughter is so terrifying. I’m not the joke, like I thought. There is no joke.

Only truth.

I put my hand on my chest, waiting for my heartbeat to slow. Despite myself, I listen out for the adjoining room, wondering if I’ll hear Kane’s steady breaths amidst the dying flames.

The cabin is cold. I am alone.

As it should be.