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But he doesn’t. His fingers move away and then next thing I know, he’s shoving my head under the water.

At first, I fight against his hold, scared he’s going to drown me. But then his fingers slide over my scalp, gentle and with purpose. After a few seconds, he lets me come up for air. I swipe at my eyes, cough a little, and he smirks.

“You would’ve just stared at me forever,” he explains.

While I’m left gaping at him, he chuckles and heads back to land. The man has zero shame whatsoever as he leaves the water, giving me a prime view of his firm backside. I dunk back down to hide how hot my face is.

***

Ryx gives me privacy when I get out of the lake, but he instructs me not to put the dirty clothes back on. So, here I am, trekking behind him to the safe house, holding a wad of filthy clothes over my cock. He’s doing the same, and I can’t help but laugh.

“What?” he demands, glaring at me over his shoulder.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Stop staring at my ass, then.”

“It’s directly in front of me,” I remind him.

“Want to switch spots? Bet the view is better.”

The blush is immediate. I refuse to let him see me like this, so no. I won’t be switching spots.

It takes another five minutes to reach the safe house, and once we are through the door, Ryx drops his clothes. At first, I direct my eyes anywhere else. The dilapidated walls, the horribly rough rug under my bare toes, even the cobweb-filled fireplace. Anywhere other than the insanely beautiful man rummaging through the shack. Eventually, though, curiosity gets the better of me.

Like they have a mind of their own, my eyes greedily take in his entire form. Wide shoulders to narrow hips. Those two dimples at the base of his spine. Lithe but powerful thighs and toned calves. I swallow hard when he pivots, giving me a side view of his body. Whatever he’s looking for must be very important because he doesn’t seem to care or notice that I’m openly staring at his cock now.

Are they all that big? Alpha cocks, I mean. Or is mine just… Frowning, I peer down at the clothes covering me. I’m not small. I don’t think. But it’s not…like that.

I lean a fraction, trying to see where his knot is.

All alphas have them, right?

“Fuck.”

I jerk straight, suddenly fascinated by the rickety chair beside me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, casual. So casual. Not at all like my heart is crawling up my throat and my body is wound tight.

“The rations. They’re all gone.”

I’m definitely hungry, but it feels irrelevant right now.

Ryx sighs heavily and opens a dresser on the far wall. “I’m too tired to hunt,” he complains, grabbing at some clothing. He sniffs them, shrugs, and then tosses some at me.

I gasp, dropping my filthy pile to catch them and then freeze.

No. No, no, no. “Turn around!” I cry, already cupping myself.

I expect a snide comment or something unbearably cruel, but Ryx gives me his back and slides on a pair of pants. I hurry to do the same, breathing too fast. Once I’m finally clothed, I move to the fireplace, aching to get it going. I’m shaking pretty bad, a horrible dread in my chest. It takes me a few seconds to realize what is happening, too. Why I’m so afraid of him seeing me…like that.

“Saren?” Ryx asks carefully.

“Hmm?” I can't see any flint, but there is a nice pile of logs off to the side. I start plucking a few from the pile.

Footsteps creak over the wooden floors, then stop.

“I’m not like them.”