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Memphis looks ready to argue with me, but he swallows the words and gets up on the log. We don’t have time to waste here. He crawls, his movements quick and smooth as a panther’s. It feels interminable, watching him making that treacherous walk, but it must take him under a minute all told. Once he reaches the other side, he raises his hand, and it’s too rainy for me to make out whether he’s giving me a thumbs up or flipping me off. Either one’s understandable.
I climb on top of the log myself. I feel adrenaline pumping through my veins, and it makes me grin. I live for this shit—the thrill, the adventure, the challenge.
Memphis crawled, but I feel more secure standing. It reminds me of being a kid, my sisters showing me what they learned in gymnastics class on the playground out back. I was definitely the fastest on a balance beam.
Carefully crouched, I move forward in small, even steps. My boots have good grip, and I never slip. But halfway across, I hear a crack. My mind slows down, and a split second turns into an eternity of thoughts. Fuck—I hope it’s just lightning hitting a tree nearby, but there’s a tug in my gut. Instinct and gravity tell me the tree’s cracked. I leap forward, hoping I’ve got enough power to land on the other side, but it’s too late.
My body tumbles down, down, down. I grab at my backpack, the precious herbs I gathered first in my mind. Somehow, I picture a white rabbit, and I realize I’m remembering the Alice in Wonderland rabbit hole. A crazed laugh breaks through my mouth.
Down, down to the river below.
The last thing I hear before my body hits the water is Memphis calling my name.
TWENTY
—
D E N V E R
The cave roof is solid, the stone absorbing the noise of the storm outside. Brooklyn and I were both able to get a few much-needed hours of sleep in our little den. Outside, the storm rages on. Heavy raindrops pound the ground outside, gale winds whipping the foliage. Occasionally, I catch the sound of a branch cracking, a tree falling. The deep rolls of thunder vibrate through the dirt floor.
Memphis and Camden should be back by now. Even if they couldn’t find the herbs, they’re smart enough to seek shelter in a storm this intense. I hope to God they were lucky enough to find shelter somewhere out here. But if I’m honest, I doubt they did. It’s not like the park is littered with perfect little hideouts like our cave. Chances are, they’re wet and miserable, possibly even injured or worse.
Any other mission, I’d be lacing up my boots and headed out, searching for my teammates. I’ve got some medical training, and more experience in search and rescue than I’m happy remembering. I don’t like sitting pretty in my nice, dry hideout while my men are in danger, but I’ve gotta stay put. Someone has to stay with Brooklyn. The mission is to get her home safe. Camden and Memphis are big boys, fully capable Alphas—they’ll figure it out.
And I’m miserable enough right where I am.
Brooklyn whines quietly, and I cringe. She’s been mewling in her sleeping bag for a while now, the pain of her heat obviously back in full force. Her little sounds of pain make my hair stand on end. The past few hours have been torture. I’m not sure what’s worse, knowing how much she’s suffering from the pain, or inhaling her sweet amber scent, which hangs heavy in the air around me.
Then, she shrieks, the pained sound more animal than human, and I snap. I can’t leave her to deal with this alone. Brooklyn needs someone, and right now, I’m all she’s got.
I make my way over to her sleeping bag. She’s curled in on herself, hands clutching her stomach, her eyes squinted in agony.
“Fuck,” I swear, kneeling next to her and pressing my hand to her forehead. As I expected, it’s burning hot. Brooklyn’s beautiful skin is flushed a rosy red, and she’s covered in a sheen of sweat.
“It’s okay,” Brooklyn whispers. Her eyes are distant, fixed on something that isn’t me. “You taught me everything already. I know, I know what to do.”
She’s delirious. I don’t know who she’s talking to, but it’s definitely not me.
The fever’s practically boiling her alive—I have to cool her down. I take a T-shirt from my pack and bring it to the cave mouth, letting the cold rain soak the fabric. Rushing back in, I press the shirt to her forehead. She sighs in relief. I leave the shirt there until her skin heats it, then go back into the rain to refresh it.
After I’ve gone a few rounds with the shirt, Brooklyn grabs my wrist. She’s still burning up, but she seems somewhat cognizant now. She shakes her head.
“No more.” Her voice is so quiet, I can barely hear it. “It won’t help.”
Her dark hair is damp from the rain and sweat. I brush it back with my fingers, trying to provide what comfort I can.
“What can I do, princess?” I murmur.
She blinks dolefully back at me. We both know damn well what she needs—a fucking knot. That’s the only thing that’ll end her misery.
The one thing I can’t give her.
I can’t be that close to another person. Especially not Brooklyn. Not this clever, strong-willed valkyrie with fire in her blue and brown eyes. She might have the face of an angel, but it’s the wildness inside her that practically brings me to my knees. She’s freedom and independence and as savagely beautiful as the forest she made her home.
I can’t let my touch corrupt her. Grayson Castle was right—I’m not good enough to deserve her, even if he didn’t know the real reasons why.
My hands are so bloody, they’ll never be washed clean. Too many men took their last breaths under my hands. I’ve acted as an executioner to innocents without a trial. The kinds of things I’ve done, they leave a mark. I might refuse to work for evil men now, but it’s only because I’ve done it so many times before. My conscience is tarnished and threadbare, and I know all too well that I’ll only hurt anyone who gets close to me. There’s nothing more intimate than knotting an Omega, and I can’t risk it.
