Page 9 of Omega’s Fold

“Huh,” my brother says, after a long second.

Julian’s eyes flick to him, back to me. He doesn’t speak. I watch his nostrils move, just once, small. He’s trying not to breathe me in.

I know, because I am doing the same thing.

Caleb shifts the hammer to his other hand, and then, diplomatically, he says, “I’ll take this lot to the barn. Y’all talk.”

He picks up the tool bag, giving me a look on the way past. Then he’s walking up toward the house at half his usual speed, and I’m watching him go because watching him go means I don’t have to look at my alpha yet.

My alpha. No, he’s not mine. He’s just an alpha. Julian Duffield, that’s what he said his name was. He looks like a Julian.

When Caleb disappears around the side of the house, the yard gets very quiet.

The wind shifts again. His scent comes in stronger this time and the pull in my gut sharpens until I have to plant my feet.

I have had heats I remember less clearly than this moment. The man is ten feet away. He has not touched me. I can feel him like a hand on the back of my neck.

Julian’s mouth has parted a fraction. He has not moved.

I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again.

“Don’t —” My voice gives out. I swallow. I try again. “Don’t want an alpha.”

The words come out low and rough.

No.

I cannot do this.

I’m moving before I’ve decided to move. I bend, pick the coil of wire off the ground, and turn.

“Wyatt —”

Julian’s voice, behind me. I do not answer it.

I step over the low wire into the south pasture and I walk. Long strides. The grass is tall through here and it drags at my jeans. I do not slow down. I do not look back. I do not need to look back to know that the alpha is watching me go. He can stand there all day. He can get back in his car and drive all the way to his city. I do not care.

The ground drops off toward the creek about two hundred yards out. I head for the drop.

I walk.

My hands are shaking. Not just my hands. My whole body is humming. I can feel him behind me like a hand between my shoulder blades. He is a hundred yards away now and I can still feel him.

I keep walking.

He’s beautiful but he’s no different from Brent Payley and any other smart-suited alpha. They don’t understand anything.

I do not need an alpha like that in my house.

I drop down over the lip toward the creek. The ground goes softer underfoot. I keep going.

He smelled so good.

Stop it.

I reach the creek bank and I stop. I put the coil of wire down. I take my gloves off and I breathe.

The water is lower than it should be this time of year. I stand there and I look at it and I make myself breathe the way my mother used to make me breathe when the words would not come. She taught me to breathe in through the nose for four and out through the mouth for four.