“I know.” His mate continued staring. “But why are you doing it to me?”
That question hurt more than any of the punches, kicks, and scratches from the night before.
“Because you’re mine,” Mitch rasped.
“Yours?” Thin red eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “Are you feral?” He shook his head. “Never mind. You wouldn’t tell me if you were.”
“I’m not feral!” Mitch said.
“You might not even know. Have you hurt any others?”
“What?”
“Am I the first shifter you captured and brought here or have there been others?” he asked calmly, slowly, as if Mitch had trouble understanding words.
“Nobody else is allowed in my den,” Mitch growled. “Only you.”
“Only me?”
Mitch nodded.
“Because I’m yours?”
He nodded again.
“And that means you’re going to give me food and keep me alive so you can hurt me and lick my blood?”
Mitch reared back at the accusation, landing on his backside. “No!”
“No?” The Omega arched his eyebrows.
“I wasn’t licking your blood. I was healing you.”
“From the wounds you made?”
Unsure how to respond, Mitch blinked and stared.
“You tied me with the rope,” he clarified unnecessarily.
“Only because you were trying to leave.”
“Yes.” The Omega nodded. “I still want to leave.” He looked into Mitch’s eyes, his expression firm, strong, admirable. “If you truly don’t want to hurt me or eat me, then let me go.”
Mitch ached soul deep. “You still want to leave?”
“Yes.” The man’s tone indicated he thought the question was stupid. “You brought me here against my will.”
“You were unconscious. You needed help.” Mitch gulped. “I helped you.”
“Well, I’m conscious now.” He sat up, keeping the blanket wrapped around himself, and gestured to his body. “I’m all healed except for these.” He held up his wrists. “But they’ll be better soon and I can be out of your territory. Are you going to let me go, Alpha?”
That wasn’t possible. The Omega was his mate. They were made to be together. Besides, the man clearly needed to eat better, sleep more, be protected. Trying for an olive branch, Mitch said, “My name’s Mitch Grant. What’s your name?”
“Simon Moorehead,” he said after looking at Mitch appraisingly. “Are you going to release me?”
This was his mate. The only one he’d ever have. The person fate had chosen just for him. How could he stand by and watch him walk out of his life, probably forever? Then again, this was his mate. His to protect. His to care for. His to make happy.
“I’ll go with you,” Mitch said.
Simon’s jaw dropped open. “What?”
“If you don’t want to stay in Blue Mountain, we can live with your pack.” Leaving his twin would be painful, for him and for Frederick. But if that was the only way for him to be with his mate, Mitch would do it.
“You’re the Alpha. You can’t leave your pack.”
“I’m an Alpha wolf.” Mitch nodded. “But I’m not the Alpha of this pack. That’s my brother.”
“Why would an Alpha live in another Alpha’s pack? I didn’t think that was allowed.”
“He’s my twin. We’ve always been together. Besides, I don’t want my own pack, never have. I work with Freddy.”
“That’s your brother?”
Mitch nodded.
“But you want to leave him, leave Blue Mountain, to go with me?”
“If you won’t stay here, then I have no other choice.” Suddenly, Mitch thought of a potential issue. “Hopefully your pack’s Alpha will allow me into his territory if I assure him that I have no interest in taking his place.”
Still staring at him in confusion, Simon said, “I don’t have a pack.”
Now it was Mitch’s turn to be perplexed. “You’re a lone wolf?”
“Yes.”
That didn’t make sense. “But you’re an Omega.”
“That doesn’t make me weak!” Simon snapped, his eyes blazing.
“You keep saying that, and I keep telling you it has nothing to do with weakness. Wolves by nature need a pack. Omegas more than most. Not because you’re weak, but because Omegas are the most community-oriented, sensitive, nurturing of our kind. In this pack, for example, we have two Omegas who teach school, another who’s a nurse, and one who helps the elderly with tasks around their homes.”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t need a pack.” Simon looked away and swallowed hard. “I don’t need anybody.”
Chapter 4
It wasn’t a lie so much as acceptance of the inevitable. No pack wanted him, so Simon had learned how to survive without one. The Alpha—Mitch—was right. It wasn’t easy. Simon’s mother had been an Omega too, and the struggle of living without a pack, moving from place to place, never planting roots or making connections, had ultimately led to her death. The healer they’d found had said there was nothing wrong with her body, but her spirit was weak and there was no medicine for a withering soul.
She’d told Simon she wanted to come home for a visit, that the mountain air would make her feel better. He knew it was a lie, knew she wanted to go to Blue Mountain to die. But he couldn’t deny her anything, least of all her dying wish, so they’d made the trek to their home pack. Two days after they’d arrived, he had buried her body.