Chapter Eight

Willow

When I wake up, Kane is gone.

I’m still groggy, coming out of my fever, wondering if the whole thing was a dream. Did I really have a rogue alpha in my bed last night?

If not for his scent, I might not believe it.

I roll over, wrinkling my nose at the pungent, earthy aroma in my sheets. Those sweeter hints of cinnamon are still there, making my inner omega purr, but everything else reeks. When’s the last time he bathed ?

Suddenly I sneeze, the force of it making my head spin.

Guess I’m not quite recovered yet.

Wrapping the sheet around my shoulders, I get up to search the kitchen. I’m surprised to find the fireplace burning. A substantial pile of wood has been stacked next to the furnace.

Did Kane do this ?

I already know the answer, but I can’t quite bring myself to accept it. Kane’s a rogue. And, ninety-five per cent of the time, an asshole. Why would he go out of his way to help me, again ?

I brew some flavorless tea, letting its warmth fill my insides. First order of business: food.

Rugging up extra tight, I take to the forest, never straying from my path. It’s going to take a lot more for a bear, or a rogue, to get the drop on me next time.

I’m pretty fortunate with my pickings, putting together a nice array of shrubs. Then I check my small animal traps, wondering if I’ll get lucky, only to walk away disappointed.

Exhausted, carrying a basket of shrubs in one hand and a bucket of water in the other, I trudge home. It’s almost dark—I must’ve slept half the day away. The extra hours of rest did me good, I’m sure, but already I’m feeling run-down again.

I shoulder into the cabin, my muscles screaming. At least, with these ingredients, I can make enough soup to last me a couple days.

Once again, it’s the scent that hits me first—grime and spice and sweetness—before I actually see the rogue alpha standing in the kitchen.

“Where the hell have you been?”

I drop my basket. “Kane?”

He storms up to me, snatching the bucket of water. “Are you out of your mind?”

His anger is like a slap across the face. I blink, suddenly alert. “What are you doing here? You can’t just come and go as you please!”

“I came to give you this.” He gestures to a limp rabbit on the kitchen bench. “Figured it’d hold you over until you’re on your feet.”

First the firewood, and now a meal? Maybe I should be grateful—god knows my inner omega wants to purr with thanks—but, somehow, that just makes me even angrier. The more he gives me, the more he saves me, the more danger I’m in. I can’t owe this alpha any more than I already do.

I dread to imagine what he expects in return.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” I practically growl. “I don’t want your charity.”

He looms in even closer. “You think I pity you? You really that stubborn?”

“I’m the stubborn one? I’m not the one who keeps showing up at your doorstep, uninvited .”

His crimson eyes burn with something I can’t quite pick—rage, probably, except he’s too focused. Like he can’t bear to let me out of his sights.

In a deep, skin-tingling voice, he rumbles, “I told you. This is my territory now.”

I scoff. “Yeah, sure.”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” He puts his hands on my arms, his grip so firm, so secure, that my whole body locks in place. “As long as you’re here, unbonded, without a pack, you’re my responsibility.” His lip curls. “Whether I like it or not.”

I stop. Blink. Blink again. “You’re not serious.”

His grip tightens.

“Okay.” I swallow. “Fine. You’re serious.”

Reluctantly, Kane loosens up. “I don’t know how they did shit where you come from, but out here, an omega needs protection.”

“I don’t want a pack,” I blurt out, nervous what he’s implying. “O–or a bond.”

“Good. ’Cause I’m not offering.”

Finally, his hands drop. I feel instantly unsteady, realizing how much weight he was taking. He stares me up and down, checking I’m not about to keel over, before sighing.

“Here’s the deal, omega. I keep you alive through the winter, and you don’t throw yourself to the bears every time I’m not looking.”

I quirk a brow. “Which is when, exactly?”

“Just don’t do anything stupid.” His face reddens. “That so damn hard?”

I fold my arms. “What are you getting out of this, exactly? Apart from your big alpha pride?”

He snarls exasperatedly, running a hand through his hair. “I dunno. What’re you offering?”

I have a couple ideas, my inner omega purrs, so easily lured by his potent scent and shuddering muscles.

Aloud, I say, “Do you eat?”

The look he gives me, like I really am stupid, makes my cheeks flush.

“I mean—” I gesture to the fresh kill in my kitchen, “do you eat anything apart from raw bunnies and fish?”

Kane seems to consider this. He looks at the rabbit, then at the basket I dropped near the door, and chuffs.

Guess I’ll take that as a yes.