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The rest of my life, I’ll be trapped. I’ll be a glorified cum dumpster for my evil, psychotic brother. He’ll use me for his sick pleasure, whenever he fucking feels like it. He’ll probably get off on me begging him to stop. And during my heats, I won’t even do that. No, I’ll be right back to where I was over a year ago. So desperate for a knot to end the pain that I’ll let him do it. I’ll want it, even. My body betraying my mind in the most disgusting possible way.
Nobody’s going to save me. Clearly, Roger Castle doesn’t think of me as a daughter. Even if he married Momma, he’s technically my stepfather. It’s why he let Grayson bond with me. Maybe Roger will get in on the fun, too. Force a bond on me, and make me part of their sick little Pack. The idea of it makes me want to vomit up my lunch of trail mix and rabbit.
No way. I won’t go back into that house. I’d rather die.
For a moment, I think about how I’d do it. It has to be before we get home—I’ll be under constant supervision back at the mansion. They’ll stop me from swallowing extra pills or finding a high place to jump from.
Ending my life is the only way I can get away from them for good.
Yet I know, I won’t do it. I couldn’t. Not when I’m the only one who really remembers Momma. She did so much to keep me safe, with everything she taught me about living out here in the forest. I know that she would want me to find a way to survive, no matter what.
Whatever happens, I’ll endure it. It’s the least I can do to honor her.
When the sky darkens, we find a clearing to make camp for the night. There’s enough space for the two tents we have left. We can’t find dry wood after the storm, so we’ll have to go without a campfire. The nights in Olympic are cool, even during the summer, but we’ll manage.
The Alphas insist I rest while they figure out dinner. Memphis sets his tent up while the others divide tasks—Camden will figure out water and rations, Denver will set some of Memphis’s snares to see if we can get more rabbit for breakfast. I don’t bother volunteering to help. As soon as the tent is ready, I crawl inside. After a year spent alone, I’m starting to itch for time away from the others.
I curl up on Memphis’s sleeping bag and try to sleep. After twenty minutes of tossing and turning, I give up. I might feel bone tired, but my mind is wide awake. I can’t stop imagining what it’ll be like to be back with my family. What horrors might await me in the mansion.
I blocked out a lot of what happened during my first heat, but a few moments are burned into my memory. Grayson tearing my favorite blue dress in half, silk splitting under his bare hands. His overwhelming scent, like overripe apples, rotten and cloyingly sweet. The pain of Grayson’s teeth sinking into my neck—the shock I felt, realizing too late what was happening. That his emotions were bleeding into mine, his triumph smothering my fear.
Over and over, my mind dredges up the images. Makes me relive them. It almost makes me miss my heat, when the only thing I could think about was sex.
I wish I could think about anything else. I wish I could just sleep.
Night sets in, and the light in the tent is a deep blue. When I hear the door flap open, I smell who it is before I see him.
Camden.
My heat might be over, but my senses are just as attuned to this man. The way he smells like a stormy sea, like briny water and wet stones, with a hint of sweet clover. I practically whimper at how good it is.
I can barely make out his expression in the light, but I hear the concern in his voice.
“You okay?”
I nod, hoping that’s enough to satisfy him. I don’t trust my voice not to tremble if I say anything.
Unfortunately, Camden’s perceptive. He pulls his boots off and joins me on the sleeping bag, pulling me tight against him. The heat of his body burns through his clothes.
“We don’t need to talk,” he murmurs. “I got you.”
For several minutes, I just let him hold me. It’s nice, having him here to comfort me. But soon, we’re both reacting to our nearness. I feel his cock harden against my ass, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from rocking my hips back against him. It’s not my heat making me crave him right now. It’s him. Camden’s sweetness and humor and spirit. Plus the fact that with his deep blue eyes and crooked smile, he’s fucking gorgeous.
Every thought of Grayson fades away. The only thing real is the man holding me. My real Alpha.
Camden’s hand, which had rested on my stomach, starts moving. Stroking my arms and side. I hum softly, which he takes as the encouragement it is. Slowly, he reaches under my shirt, hand hot against my bare skin.
“You want me to touch you?” he murmurs against my ear.
I cry out, pressing back against him.
“Say it,” he pants. “I need to hear you say it.”
He sounds desperate, like he’s forcing himself to hold back. He won’t take me without my explicit permission.
“Touch me, Camden,” I beg.
His chest vibrates with a wolf-like growl. One hand gropes my breast, the other plunges under the top of my panties to cup my sex. He’s rough and claiming, just like I wanted. Showing me how desperate he is for me.
