Page 95 of A Nest of Maple & Mist

A dangerous sound rumbled behind us.

“Don’t put ideas in her head,” Shane snapped.

Without looking at me, he closed in on Ty, backing him up against the trunk of a towering oak. Shane moved with a lethal kind of precision I didn’t know he had.

Shane collared Ty’s throat, flexing his thick fingers in a gentle but claiming embrace. Ty’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He didn’t flinch, his pupils blowing wide as Shane leaned in, his knuckles skimming Ty’s jaw.

“You better hope I don’t catch you, Mate,” Shane said, his voice a silken rasp. “Because if I do, I’m going to rut into you until you’re screaming for your daddy and your omega to save you.” Ty sucked in a gasping breath, whining. “Except no one can save you from me. You’re mine. My beta. And I’m going to ruin you.”

A sudden spike of arousal saturated the air—maple and musk, vanilla and clove. Unconsciously, I rubbed my wrists together, the throbbing in my glands there almost unbearable.

Jason squeezed Shane’s shoulder, raking his gaze over me. He eyed his watch, his expression foreboding, like the calm before a storm. I tipped my chin up, projecting a confidence that quickly waned under the presence of his Apex.

“Oh, baby girl,” he whispered.

A knuckle hooked under my chin. An omega whine itched to escape as I refused to give him the satisfaction. Jason tilted his head to the side. Smug jerk. He knew exactly what he was doing to me.

“Ten minutes. That is your head start. You better hope I don’t find you.”

“What happens if you do?”

“That would ruin the surprise.” His lips hovered by my ear and then he whispered a command. “Run.”

After a beat, my brain caught up, and I sprinted into the thick underbrush.

Sunlight peeked through the trees, dappling the dewy grass in glints of gold. I raised my forearm, knocking aside wayward twigs as I moved further into a copse of towering trees.

I headed for the steeper ridge, where the older maples stood like sentinels. The blue sap lines were everywhere here, threaded through the trees like a neon spiderweb. I ducked and wove through them, feeling like I was on an episode of Legend of the Hidden Temple.

Each breath stung, burning like a million icicles stabbing my ribs. Fuck. I wasn’t built for all this running. I was the cuddled-in-a-nest-with-a-hot-chocolate type, not the woodsy, mountain omega type.

Time blurred. It could have been five minutes or fifty since I bolted from the backyard.

Bark scraped under my palms as I braced myself against a tree. Pieces of hair broke free from my braid, sticking to the muddled mess of sap and sweat on my nape. I sucked in a deep breath, finally moving again. This time, my run was more of a labored jog.

Jog may have been generous, trudging was more accurate—the weary, yet determined motions of an exhausted omega.

The itch under my skin evolved into a relentless ache. With every stride, more slick spilled from my pussy. My damp leggings clung to my skin in a way that teased and tortured me.

There was no hiding. My scent poured from me. I was a walking beacon of pheromones. To an alpha, I might as well have been a signal flare. I reached a rocky outcropping halfway up the ridge and stopped, pressing my back against the cold stone.

I covered my mouth, quieting my panting breaths.

The unnerving quiet made my heart gallop.

A sharp crack echoed nearby.

My heart jumped into my throat.

Each step felt like I was trudging through mud. My limbs were too heavy and my vision too narrow. I couldn’t outrun my alphas forever. All I could hope for now was that I could hide.

Unlikely with how potent my pheromones were.

My alpha’s scent doused the valley in a wildfire of his dominance. It lured me, lulling me into a false sense of safety. My muscles twitched and my body burned, making a whimper irritate my cracked lips.

Jason.

Shit. If I could smell him, he could definitely smell me.