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“We’re not going to harm you,” Denver says softly. “We only want to help. I can see how much pain you’re in. Just tell me what you want us to do, and we’ll do it. Anything, I swear.”
I point to the door. I couldn’t be clearer. The only thing I want from him is for him to leave me alone.
Denver’s lip curls. “That’s the only thing I won’t do. You’re not safe here. A fire started not far from here, and you’re in no shape to run.”
I growl my frustration. The fucking liar—he offers up the illusion of choice, but when it comes down to it, he doesn’t care what I want. Typical Alpha, so sure that he knows what’s best.
“Anything but that,” he says. “I won’t leave you here to die.”
I just raise the crossbow. It says what I can’t: You’re not the only one who can deliver ultimatums.
The asshole has the nerve to smirk at me. “Cute. No way a sweet girl like you is gonna pull the trigger.”
For a moment, all I feel is rage. No common sense, no mercy, not even pain. All I care about is wiping that stupid smirk off his face.
My finger pulls the trigger.
Denver ducks out of the way just in time, and the arrow flies harmlessly into the clearing beyond. He swears and roughly yanks the crossbow from my shaking hands, throwing it to the floor. His broad hands grab my wrists, gripping them so hard that I can practically feel my bones crack.
“You could have fucking killed someone,” he growls, his eyes glowing with wrath. “You stupid girl, what the hell were you thinking?”
My eyes well with tears, and by instinct I cringe away. He’ll hurt me. The Alpha’s too strong—my pain will only make him happier.
Just like before. Just like with Grayson.
Denver’s grip on me loosens immediately. His face floods with regret.
“Fuck, Brooklyn,” he whispers. His voice sounds broken. “Don’t be scared. I’m sorry.”
I’m overwhelmed, by fear, by pain, by desire. But I almost laugh when a moment of clarity breaks through. I just tried to shoot this man and now he’s apologizing.
Letting go of me is obviously difficult for Denver. My Omega instincts are dying to pull him closer. He could lie on top of me, could open his mouth against mine, could pull my panties aside and plunge right inside me and I’d thank him for it. Denver’s drawn to me just as much—I know it. Yet, finger by finger, he peels his hands away until my wrists are free. It looks painful for him to take even a single step away. Yet he does. He looks like he’s holding his breath, giving himself the strength to back away.
My rational mind tries to filter through the information. Denver hates that he scared me, hates that he might do something I don’t want. The only thing he refused was to leave me alone and in danger. He wants me, yet he manages to let me be.
This Alpha is nothing like what I feared.
“We’ve got to move her,” Denver tells the others briskly. “One of us has to carry her. She can’t walk like this.”
My vision blurs as they move back into the shelter. I feel someone’s hands on me, and it’s like touching a hot iron. I can’t help it—I shriek. The noise sounds pathetic, more animal than human. Whoever’s touching me lets go immediately, but the pain lingers. I curl on my side, clutching my knees against me, trying to endure it.
“Maybe we can make a stretcher,” Denver suggests.
I hear a rumble of agreement—Memphis.
“We can’t. It’s too late now. She’s in heat,” Camden says. He was so sweet and playful last night. Now, he’s deathly serious. “We can’t move her in this condition. It already hurts for us to touch her. That’s not going away, not without suppressants.”
“What about the herbs you mentioned?” Denver demands.
“Even if I could find them fast enough, they wouldn’t be enough. Hell, I don’t think the medical version would help at this point. She’s too far gone.”
“So what are we supposed to do?” Through the haze of pain, I catch the scent of wild mint and tree moss—Memphis. His voice is rough and desperate, practically unrecognizable.
“There’s only one thing we can do,” Camden murmurs. “She needs a knot. Without it, the pain will be too much. The damage it could cause her to go through without it might be irreparable.”
Memphis growls. “She doesn’t want that. She’d rather fucking shoot us than let us touch her.”
“One of us has to, or she could die.” Camden sounds eerily calm.
