Chapter Eighteen

Kane

Mount omega. Fuck her. Breed her. Show the whole mountain she’s yours.

My inner alpha has been reciting the same shit for days. Just when I think I’ve got my control back, I catch another whiff of Willow’s syrupy heat pheromones.

I’ve been hard for three fucking days.

Leaving her nest was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But if I had stayed even a second longer, I know what would’ve happened. I saw the way she looked at me before I tore myself away, her eyes blown wide with terror. She knew it, too.

How can I expect her to trust me if I’m no better than the animals she’s running from?

I tear through the forest, hunting for our next meal. Maybe if I can cook something that doesn’t taste of dirt, she’ll be more inclined to eat.

Assuming I can get through that door without instantly breeding her full of my pups.

I shake the thought out of my head. After everything she’s been through, breeding is the last fucking thing I should be thinking of.

No it’s not, my alpha retorts. She’s an omega. You’re an alpha. This is what you’re made for.

Right now, what I’m made for is making sure my omega doesn’t starve.

I slaughter the first thing I can find. How long have I been gone? Too long, probably. Not that I’m eager to go back to being tortured by Willow’s scent, but I also can’t stand being this far away.

I haul my kill—a rabbit—back the way I came. It’s getting dark, marking the end of Willow’s third day in heat. Gritting my teeth, I’m so focused trying not to breathe through my nose that I don’t notice it until too late.

A growl escapes me.

Standing not ten yards outside the cabin, an enormous, breast-plated alpha with a sword at his hilt glares at the door. He stalks forward, slowly, before his amber eyes snap on to me.

I know those eyes.

It’s him—the mountain of an alpha who ran me off my territory only weeks ago. I wasn’t strong enough to take him then, or fast enough to track him down the other night.

But right now, I’m pissed enough to wring his fucking neck.

I drop the rabbit and tear my cloak off right before I charge. I aim low, tacking his waist.

He must be thrown off guard by Willow’s scent, because he stumbles, almost losing his footing.

Almost.

“It’s you,” he remarks, his voice as deep and aggravating as I remember. “I should’ve guessed.”

Growling, I come at him again. He’s ready this time, swatting me with ease.

“Don’t tell me—” he swerves to avoid my fist, “—you’ve turned feral?”

I growl louder, throwing all my bloodlust into another blow. My knuckles clip his waist, finding that perfect spot where armor betrays flesh.

Harder , my inner alpha roars. Bastard’s good as dead for getting this close to my omega.

“No,” he muses, “not feral—or you’d already be inside.”

“You stay the fuck away from her, ” I snarl.

He tilts his head. “So it’s a her.”

My vision turns a hot, dark red. I launch at him again, whipping out my dagger.

The alpha’s hand goes to his sword. “I thought you preferred a fair fight.”

It takes me a moment to register his meaning. Territory disputes are a part of the rogue’s natural order. Courting disputes, too. No weapons but our bodies. I insisted on it, once upon a time. But now I’ve got an omega on the line?

I’ll fight as dirty as it takes.

He whacks the dagger from my grip and grabs me by the throat. I claw at him, and he chokes me tighter. His nose crinkles. Something like surprise flashes across those amber eyes.

“You haven’t knotted her.” His gaze darkens. “Are you completely insane?”

I don’t want to hear this fucker talk about Willow and knotting in the same sentence ever again. The extra rage gives me strength, launching a foot directly into his sternum. Even through the breastplate, he’s winded—letting me go.

Coughing for air, I follow up with a low sweep, trying to get him on his knees.

“Stand down,” he orders.

I grin. “ Now you’re scared?”

“You and me need to talk.”

Fuck that . I charge, edging for a right hook. He grabs the scruff of my neck and throws me aside. This time I can’t catch myself, tumbling into the dirt. I raise my head, braced to spring back up, when a cold metal tip catches my chin.

Ah, shit.

The alpha stares me down, his sword pointed at my throat.

My adrenaline surges. Think, Kane. How bad can I hurt him before he kills me? Enough to make sure he doesn’t have enough blood left in his body to go after my omega?

Omega, my inner alpha groans. Protect … omega …

“Good.” The alpha smiles. “Now I have your attention.”

I bare my teeth. “I’ll die before I let you touch her.”

“ Some one has to.”

No. The whole point of this is that no-one gets to have her—not even me. She’s been hurt too badly. If I’m the one who hurts her again, I’ll never forgive myself. And if he does … I’ll have no choice but to hack his arrogant dick off.

“Tell me, rogue.” The alpha examines me. “Are you impotent, or just stupid? Your answer will determine how quickly I kill you.”

Instinctively, I start to rise. His blade kisses my neck.

“You don’t know shit,” I bite out, “about me.”

“You haven’t knotted her,” he says again, slower. “Which makes you either exceptionally naive, or exceptionally cruel.”

The way this alpha speaks, his voice rich with command, reminds me how out of place he is. The wilds don’t suit him. Not his fancy gear, or his fancy words.

“The is my territory,” I snap. “As long as she’s here, she’s under my protection.”

He sighs. “Stupid, then.”

“The fuck did you—?”

He points the blade in deeper, drawing blood. “An omega in heat faces three possible outcomes. One, they rely on other omegas—family, normally—while they wait it out. Two, and far preferable, they find a suitable mate.” He shrugs. “Judging on your erection, you already know how that goes.”

I fight the urge to adjust my cock, which is, somehow, still hard.

“And the third?” I demand.

He waits another beat. Eyes me closely. “They die.”

No. He’s bluffing. Trying to throw me off guard. But then, why would he bother? I’m already on my knees.

“As I thought,” the alpha mutters, withdrawing his sword.

This is your chance , my inner alpha calls, urging me to my feet. But the other alpha only watches, disinterested, as I rise, like I’m nothing more than a nuisance.

“You’re saying …” I swallow, my throat raw, “she’s dying?”

“Slowly. Painfully.”

“I’ve been feeding her, you jackass. Making sure she drinks.”

“Starvation, dehydration—those are just side-effects.” He glowers. “What she needs is a cure.”

“So you’re gonna cure her with your magic knot?” I scoff. “You’re lucky I don’t rip your throat out.”

“You’re lucky I don’t let you try. Without a knot, that omega in there is going to die. And you’re skulking around out here, letting it happen.”

I go quiet, studying him up and down. What do I actually know about this guy? He’s strong, sure. Well-equipped, and clearly capable. There’s a refinement about him that almost reminds me of Willow. Smart. Sharp. Composed.

On her, it’s a turn-on. On him …

“You think you’re better than me,” I growl.

“I am better than you,” he returns, simply.

“Why? ’Cause you’re gonna force yourself on some omega you’ve never met?”

“Because I’d save her, no matter the cost.” He glares. “Can you say the same?”

Big words from someone who doesn’t know jack shit about the cost . He didn’t see her the other night, crying in her sleep, pale and shivering as she explained to me what she’s running from. Everything she left behind, everything she’s risked—all so she could be free.

“You said she’s under your protection,” the alpha continues. “That means nothing if you can’t even keep her alive.”

That parting image of Willow still haunts me. The way she looked up from her nest, her eyes wide, like I was going to rip her apart. If she looks at me that way again while I’m knotted deep inside of her … whatever we have now, whatever we could have, will shatter.

I can’t lose her. Not like this.

But I also can’t let her die.

Fuck, my inner alpha rumbles, sensing where this is going. Don’t do it. Don’t you fucking dare!

Slowly, my shoulders slacken.

I don’t have another choice.

I stare at the alpha, who is now watching my every move, and will the blood rushing in my ears to drown out what I say to him next.