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For a moment, neither of them answers. Then Memphis sighs and turns his back. He strolls back to the fire, where he sits with his crossbow across his knee. He’s still doing that silent scowling thing, but at least he’s doing it from further away.
Denver sighs, and his shoulders slump when he decides to give in. “Fine. But if you run, we follow you.” He taps the side of his nose. “We’ve got your scent now.”
With a last look at her, he retreats back to the fire with Memphis.
They’re far enough away that they can’t hear us if we speak quietly. Tired of crouching, I move to sit down cross-legged. Brooklyn eyes me then does the same.
It’s not much, but it’s progress.
“I’m glad we found you,” I tell her honestly. “We weren’t sure you made it out here. But it looks like you did all right.”
She doesn’t answer. She just stares back at me. Her clothes and most of her skin are covered in thick gray mud. I’m guessing that’s how she got so close to us without us scenting her. The few patches of clean skin I can see are olive-toned. Her dark hair is wild and long, but matted in places. It can’t have been easy for her to stay groomed out here.
Thankfully, she doesn’t look as malnourished as I feared. She’s thin, sure, but her hips are sweetly curved and she’s got thighs that I’d love to close my hands around. She looks older than the photo we were given. A mix of the hard life she’s survived out here and the passing of time.
And her face—god, her face. Each feature is distinct, yet perfectly balanced. Her sharp jaw framing her lush lips, her stunning eyes turned down at the corners. She’s delicate and bold all at once.
I planned to wait for her to speak first, let her lead the conversation. But I just can’t help offering her something.
“Can I get you some water?” I ask. “Or something to eat? We’ve got plenty.”
She doesn’t answer, and I realize she’s trembling. It’s chilly tonight, and the Omega isn’t wearing enough layers.
We might well be the first people she’s seen in months, and we’re not exactly acting like a welcoming committee. She’s probably in shock right now.
I’m dying to wrap her up in a blanket, or just pull her against me and let my body heat do the work. If she’d let me, I’d hold her by the crackling fire and feed her peanut butter sandwiches until she understood that she was safe now.
But we’re going to have to start with small steps.
“I’m going to get you some water anyway,” I tell her. “You mind staying here for a minute?”
She might try to run while I go to my tent for supplies, but I have a feeling she’ll wait for me. She knows Memphis and Denver are watching her. This is how I build trust with her.
I take a few steps back before I rise back to my full height. When I turn my back on her, I don’t immediately hear her scrambling to get up and run.
Progress.
Once I unzip the door to my tent, I decide where I want to start. I grab two water bottles, a packet of electrolyte replacement powder, and a box of peanut butter crackers. After a moment’s thought, I get a towel, too. She might want to clean off some of that mud.
Brooklyn’s still waiting for me when I emerge. Her eyes are wary, but I’ve passed my first test of trust.
I sit down again before I extend my hand to offer the water bottle. She takes it silently, then allows herself a long sip from it. When she’s done, little drops of water collect in the bow of her upper lip.
“Do you want some electrolyte powder, too?” I ask. “I use it to rehydrate after a long hike. It tastes like pink lemonade.”
When she nods her agreement, she doesn’t wait as long this time. She’s not second guessing every single gesture, which is good. I toss her the packet and she catches it. I watch while she empties it into the water bottle, then shakes it to mix it up. As she tries it, she lets out a tiny moan at the tart, sugary taste. The sound goes right to my cock, and I can feel myself hardening under my jeans.
Down, boy. We’re not here to fuck her. We’re here to keep her safe.
We sit quietly while she drinks and I take deep breaths, trying to get my cock to calm down.
When she’s finished, she hands me back the water bottle. Our fingers graze as I take it and honest to God, there’s a spark. The smallest touch from this Omega is enough to make me crazy. I want to get closer to her, so much closer. I was going to try to get some food into her next, but I can’t stop myself from skipping ahead a step.
“Do you want to clean off some of that mud?” I ask her, holding up the towel. It’s probably best for all of us if she stayed covered in the scents of the forest, but it can’t be comfortable for her.
Brooklyn extends her hand to take the towel, but the urge to get closer to her overpowers me. I move toward her, towel in one hand and spare water bottle in the other. She goes completely still while I approach, her eyes fixed to me, but she doesn’t flinch away. She’s willing to let me into her space.
I pour some water on the towel, then bring it up to gently rub the mud on her cheek. Her eyes flit closed at the soft touch, and my chest fills with heat again. She trusts me. She’s letting me take care of her.
