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Denver snorts. “Yeah, right. I’m not chasing you through the storm again. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired.”
“I won’t run,” I promise. “You can even take my boots, if you want insurance.”
For once, I’m being honest. I don’t have the supplies to venture out in this rain again, and besides, my heat will be flaring up sooner or later. I might as well wait it out somewhere dry until Memphis and Camden bring back the herbs.
Denver pauses, considering. Finally, he sighs and crouches to untie my hiking boots. “You get these back in the morning,” he says, glaring at me.
I nod. It feels good to take off my boots and socks, both of which are soaking. Once Denver removes my ties, I rub my wrists and ankles to get the blood moving where the rope cut into it. If Denver feels bad about my discomfort, he doesn’t show it.
Together, we gather what dry wood there is. It’s enough to start a fire, though I don’t know if we’ll be able to keep it burning all night. While Denver gets the fire going, I lay out a tarp so we have a clean, dry place to sleep.
Once I’m finished working, I realize how hard my body is shaking. Part of it is that I’m wet and freezing cold in the cave. More importantly, my fever’s started again. The relief I got from Memphis’s knot is long gone now. I hug my knees into myself, trying to conserve what warmth I have.
Denver raises his hands over the small fire, apparently satisfied. Finally, he looks at me, frowning when he sees my shivering.
“Are you all right?”
I try to put on a brave face, since there’s not much we can do about the symptoms now. “Just the fever from my heat. To be expected.”
“You look awful,” he says.
His eyes flit over me, lingering on my breasts. With the cold, my nipples are hard peaks, clearly visible under my shirt. His hazel eyes flash in the firelight, and I think I might see lust in them. For a moment, I wonder if he might take care of me himself.
I want him to take care of me.
“You can hold on for a while,” he says brusquely. “The others will be back soon, they’ll have what you need.”
My face falls before I can stop it. I can’t deny, I want him to touch me. It’s not just my fever and aching core, desperate for relief. It’s him. The way he faced his fears head-on at the ravine, the way he commands respect from the other Alphas. He may be a grumpy asshole, but his strength makes the Omega inside me desperate for him.
He opens his pack, pulling out a pair of flannel pajama pants, a gray t-shirt, and an orange Broncos sweatshirt. He tosses them onto the tarp in front of me, followed by a pair of thick cotton socks.
“Here,” he says gruffly. “Put on some warm clothes.”
He turns his back to me, giving me some privacy. I’m eager to peel off my soaking wet clothes, the skin underneath pruned and pale. Denver’s clothes are so warm in comparison, and his comforting scent becomes even more intense. I have to roll up the sleeves a few times before my hands are remotely visible, and even with the drawstring pulled tight on the flannel pants, I have to hold them up to keep them from falling down.
I don’t care. I can’t remember the last time I felt so cozy.
“I’m done,” I murmur, letting him know it’s okay for him to turn around.
When Denver sees me wearing his clothes, his pupils widen ever so slightly. “They look good on you,” he says, his voice low and throaty. Heat rises to my cheeks. I do a little spin, like I’m giving him a fashion show. His full lips quirk in a smile.
He takes a step toward me, and my heart pounds in my chest.
Of course, he doesn’t make a move. He just takes some dry clothes from his pack for himself. He goes to the edge of the tarp to change, assuming I’ll turn my back to give him some privacy. But as he pulls his wet t-shirt over his head, I can’t tear my eyes away from his nude torso.
I knew Denver was ripped—his clothes couldn’t possibly conceal the swell of hard-earned muscle in his arms, chest, and back. What surprises me are the scars. They’re everywhere. Mostly, they look like old knife wounds, some long and thin, others short and thick, like a dagger was stabbed into his skin. I even spot a few round wounds that I feel sure are bullet holes. His body bears the marks of what he’s endured—what he’s survived.
I force myself to turn around, looking away before he can catch me gawking at him. He’s not like any man I’ve seen before. Tough and rugged, but with classically beautiful features. A lethal beauty.
Too bad he’s so cold. He doesn’t offer me another comforting word as we settle into our sleeping bags.
At the cave’s opening, I can see the rain still pummeling the ground. It looks like a damn monsoon outside. My thoughts turn to Camden and Memphis, out in the cold and rain, looking for herbs to help me. I expected them to be back by now. Any minute now, they should be wandering in, Camden flashing me a crooked smile, while Memphis scowls at everyone but me. A part of me already misses them, even though it’s unfair, considering my plan is still to run from them whenever I can figure out how.
Curling into a ball, I pull Denver’s sweatshirt closer around me. I love wearing Denver’s clothes, but I wish I’d taken something from the other guys’ packs, too. I’d feel safer drifting off to sleep if I had their scents with me. I hope they managed to find a warm place to hunker down for the night.
Sleep comes slowly, but eventually the rain lulls me to a restless sleep.
NINETEEN
