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“You expect me to believe you’ve been stalking me, and you broke into my home, to return my pills?”

“Our mate is spunky. I like that. He’ll want to bite us back.” His wolf was practically purring with excitement. Royce ignored him.

“I knew something wasn’t right,” Royce said. “I knew omegas taking alpha pills was bad business. I was trying to get a read on you. When I couldn’t, I decided to come here to ask you outright.”

“You hit a dog!”

“I didn’t do that on purpose!” Damn it, Royce had known no one would believe it was an accident after he’d been caught stalking the vet.

OH!

Realization smacked him upside the head. His wolf thought he’d scented their fated mate, but because of the pills hiding his scent, the wolf couldn’t find him. Scott said he’d wandered the town aimlessly, but it hadn’t been aimless. Scott’s wolf had been tracking his mate. Since Royce’s wolf couldn’t smell him, he’d dug his heels into the last known location—the omega house.

Dr. Abbott fixed him with a glare. He’d shifted position so he was still huddled against the sofa, but now his hands were wrapped protectively around his neck. It broke something in Royce to see this beautiful, delicate omega so afraid, so hardened and untrusting. It also hurt that his mate didn’t want Royce to scent him.

He tried not to take it personally. Logically, he knew this omega had been through some shit. If he’d been thinking clearly these last few days, he would have seen that. His training as an enforcer combined with his alpha instincts to protect omegas would have made him want to help this omega, not stalk him and tackle him to the ground.

His mate needed a gentler approach, deserved a gentler approach. He internally cussed out his wolf before trying to talk to the omega again.

“Who are you hiding from?” Royce asked, doing his best to keep his voice gentle. “You’re taking suppressor, and you kept saying you wouldn’t leave, you wouldn’t go back to ‘a him.’”

He waited. Instead of responding, his omega shut down and was glaring at a wall.

Royce replayed the fight in his head, thinking hard to recall every syllable the doctor said. His skin went cold, and his wolf barked.

“You called me a trafficker,” he whispered. “Is that who you’re running from?”

The omega’s body shook. That was all the confirmation Royce needed. His mind was reeling. What the hell was he supposed to do?

Looking around the cabin, it was cozy and habitable, but terrible to defend. Surrounded by woods, all on the ground floor so anyone could crawl in through the window in the omega’s sleeping space, and it had two doors, both of which had pitiful excuses for deadbolts. Not to mention it was practically freezing in here. Not terribly cold for him, but omegas ran on the chilly side.

Mind made up, he slowly crawled closer to Dr. Abbott. He glared daggers at Royce.

“Okay, Doc, that’s what you prefer to be called, right? I need you to listen carefully.” Royce kept talking when Doc didn’t answer. “Despite the suppressors, my wolf was able to scent you, which I’m sure you’ve been able to figure out by now, but you’re my mate. Whoever you’re running from, I won’t let them get you, but I sure as shit can’t keep you safe here. So, I would appreciate it if you would pack a bag and I’ll take you back to my place.”

Instead of nodding and jumping up to pack a bag with glee—which honestly, did Royce really think that’s what was going to happen?—the omega hocked a goober into Royce’s eye. Much to his wolf’s delight, the fuzzy butthead was barking with glee at each show of pluck from the omega.

Cleaning the glob of spit from his eyelid, Royce stood up.

“Alright, hard way it is then.” Without ceremony, Royce bent down and scooped the omega up, tossing him over his shoulder. He hollered indignantly; Royce ignored him. He paused to put the pistol into one of the bags on the sofa, then hooked the straps to all of them over his forearm.

Was he going about this the right way? Most likely not. But since the Doc’s trembling response when he’d asked about traffickers, Royce tossed decorum out the window. The only thing that mattered now was keeping his mate safe.

Carrying the doctor and his bags across the kitchen, he paused, gaze settling on a pile of dark chocolate tins on the kitchen counter. He balanced his mate’s stiff form on his shoulder so he could scoop the tins into one of the duffle bags, then left the cabin.

He carefully set Doc on the passenger seat of his SUV and buckled his seat belt. Then he drove them to the other side of town.

“I live with other alphas in a row of condos. Or townhouses, I don’t really know the difference. But Elk Cove offers them to any alpha or pair of alphas living without an omega, and they come furnished which was a nice bonus. I move a lot, don’t like staying in one place long—probably a byproduct of being in the military and growing up in the system. And I hate shopping … There’s a second story. You can sleep in one of the rooms up there. It’s harder for people to sneak into a second-story window. And I have alpha neighbors who would immediately get suspicious of unknown alphas casing the joint and trying to break in.”

Royce rambled the whole drive. Mouth going without end, he couldn’t make himself stop. His mate was still curled into a rigid ball with his hands over his neck. Royce was trying very hard not to take it to heart. They hadn’t exactly gotten off on the right foot … not to mention these traffickers he was running from.

“Kill them all!” his wolf demanded. “No, let me kill them! First, you need to claim him, fill him with your knot, and bite him before we leave so everyone knows we will return to him from our hunt. Our mate shall fall at our feet when we arrive victorious, painted in the blood of his enemies.”

Fuzzy was getting insistent. Royce was still pissed at him. He knew he scented their mate at the Town Hall and had gone silent while Royce was chasing his tail, oblivious to what was happening. Now all of a sudden the furry bastard had gotten chatty and was making demands. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Royce disregarded his diatribe, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He pulled into the garage under his unit, shut the door using the remote, and turned off the car. He sat there, white-knuckling the steering wheel. His mate hadn’t unwound from his tense ball.

“Okay, this is it …” Royce said.