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Worse, Memphis looks tenser than ever. Instead of getting some relief from knotting the Omega, it’s like it only made him want her more. There’s no suspicion when he looks at her now. This girl has already run from us, and it seems obvious to me that she might try again.
Brooklyn coughs, and Camden’s at her side within seconds.
“You alright?” he asks.
She nods. “Just the smoke.”
It’s true, the smoke is getting thicker. Right now, I’m more worried at Camden’s reaction to the smallest sign of distress from her. I adjust the plan in my head—I’m going to have to separate her from the others, if both of them are off their game like this.
“Alright,” I say briskly, getting everyone’s attention. “We’ve got to get out of the smoke and find shelter before it rains. It might be heavy enough to collapse the tents we have left.”
I shoot a look at Brooklyn, who stares back, unfazed. Apparently, she still doesn’t feel guilty for ruining Camden’s tent.
I keep going. “I looked at the terrain ahead, and I think we might be able to find a cave over the next ridge. That could work. We also need to figure out how to help the heat symptoms. Camden, you mentioned some natural remedies?”
He nods eagerly. “Now that she’s knotted, the herbs might be enough to keep her fever down. I’ll be looking for mint and wild garlic, willow bark, maybe some glasswort if I can find it.”
“What about columbine roots?” Brooklyn pipes up. “I’ve used them before.”
Camden’s eyes narrow. “Are you kidding? Those are poisonous!”
She shrugs. “I don’t use too much. I can take some every eight hours or so, and my heat symptoms stall.”
That has Cam’s face turning red with rage. “So that’s your plan to deal with your heats? You’re poisoning yourself?”
Brooklyn scowls back at him. “They’re my heats. It’s none of your concern.”
“The hell it’s not!”
I rub my temples in irritation. This is exactly why I need to separate them. It’s obvious by now, the thing Brooklyn values most is her independence. She bristles when her movements are controlled, and I suspect it’s part of the reason she hasn’t worked too hard to be rescued. We live in a world where unbonded Omegas are treated like children, ushered from place to place by glorified babysitters. Out here, she doesn’t have to deal with any of that.
So the more Camden tries to tell her what to do, the more she’ll want to run the first chance she gets. Even if what he’s trying to stop her from doing is objectively stupid. If she poisoned herself alone out here, there’s no one to rush her to the hospital. She’d die.
“Camden, I’m putting you on finding the herbs,” I bark. “Take Memphis. If you get off course, he can track us down. Brooklyn and I will go ahead to the next ridge to find shelter. You’ll meet us there.”
As expected, my plan isn’t popular.
“You want us to leave you alone with her?” Camden demands. Memphis growls his disapproval.
I level them both with a gaze. “Do you honestly think either of you should be trusted alone with her?”
Both their expressions darken. I know it’s not because they’re suspicious of the other one taking advantage of her. It’s because they’re both self-aware enough to know that if they get to knot Brooklyn again, the urge to bond with her will be too powerful to resist.
“Fine,” Memphis snaps. He snatches his pack from the ground, walking away from the situation before his temper gets the best of him. As he goes, Brooklyn looks at him, and I think I see a flash of hurt on her face. Her hormones probably have her feelings all tangled up. Memphis was knotted in her minutes ago, and now he’s fleeing like he can’t get away from her fast enough. She must feel devastated.
It almost makes me feel bad for sending him away—until I see her eyes shifting back to the forest around us. I recognize the calculating look on her face. She’s still looking for a way out. It’s my job to stop her before she finds one.
Camden, at least, is a bit more sensitive than Memphis. He gives Brooklyn a tender kiss on the forehead before he leaves.
“Be good for Denver, sweetheart,” he tells her with a wink, sauntering after the brooding tracker.
Which leaves me with the Omega.
We eye each other warily for a moment, both of us obviously doubting the other one’s agenda. The silence stretches between us like a taut cord. Whoever speaks first risks that invisible force snapping back at them.
I give in first.
“We’re losing daylight. Time to get moving.”
