But when Rue had been situated similarly, proximity to an Alpha had triggered some sort of trauma response in her that set the settlement on its ear. Hence her emergency relocation to Della’s house as a temporary measure. That had been over a month ago, and no one had bothered to explain how it was temporary if no other alternative arrangements were being made.
“I’ll let you know if I find anything out,” Della promised, closing the door on the food discussion. Now that she had his attention, she seized the moment. “Hey, listen, something I wanted to run by you. Those two unmated Omegas you took in last month?” Hunter nodded. “They need somewhere to live that isn’t in the corner of someone else’s cabin. What do you think about building an Omega bunkhouse?”
Hunter grimaced. “I was hoping they might be mated by the time we got back. Once they’re claimed, the newly mated pair gets their own cabin built. Problem solved.”
“Yes,” she agreed, her mind flipping through the arguments she’d prepared for this objection. “That has historically been the case, but Rue is not likely to be mated any time soon. And Zorah?” They both pulled a face at the mention of the flirtatious little Omega. “Hard to say what she’ll do. Or when. It could be a year or more before they’re claimed. Don’t you think they deserve their own space in the interim?”
Hunter peered down his nose. “You want Rue out of your house.”
She ignored the accusation and pulled her best wheedling smile out of cold storage, her blood thrumming with the old energy of bringing someone around to her way of thinking. “You came back with what? Four? Five new Alphas? We’ve got work enough for them, but how many will stay if they have no chance at finding an Omega of their own?”
Hunter folded his arms over his broad chest. “Omegas are rare, Del, you know that.”
“Right, and because of that, they’re pursued, and threatened, and endangered everywhere they go.” She took a half-step forward, tilting her chin to account for his height. “If we build a safe place where Omegas could be free of unwanted Alpha attention, where they had a space all to themselves, in a community where Alphas are prohibited from nonconsensual claiming, don’t you think that might entice more Omegas to come live here?”
She paused to let the argument sink in and considered her father’s tried-and-true advice: find what they want and give it to them in a way that gets you what you want.
“You have big plans for this place,” she continued. “A bathhouse, running water, more varied crops… but to do any of that, we need good Alphas. If we build an Omega bunkhouse, the word will quietly spread that Morris Hill is a safe place for Omegas, and more will come here without you having to go out and beat the bushes to find them. And where Omegas are, Alphas follow, and soon you have all the men you need to scavenge every working solar panel in the Pacific Northwest”—her lip curled with mischief—“and get your damn bathhouse.”
The creases alongside Hunter’s eyes pinched, his tell for soft amusement. “I get into trouble when I forget how persuasive you are, Senator Cabrese.” Della smiled at hearing her old title on her friend’s lips. Once, those words evoked gravitas and a sense of accomplishment. Now, they sounded like a side character in a film franchise, someone she recognized but who would never get their own feature film.
She appreciated Hunter’s use of them as a compliment, but more than anything, she cherished the way she could deal with Hunter directly, as an equal. They’d come from the same time, had lived through the same era, and as such, he treated her like a valued colleague and friend, not an annoyance. Other Alphas required a soft-peddling finesse she found exhausting and tedious. With Hunter, she could state her ideas plainly and not be dismissed out of hand simply because she wasn’t Alpha.
After a moment, Hunter’s expression smoothed to a careful blandness except for a muscle jumping in his cheek. “I’m going to miss talking to you. I hope you understand.”
Della’s smile faltered a split second before she hoisted it back up into place. “Yeah, of course,” she said, her tone chipper and agreeable. “You’ll be busy settling in with Kess and getting her used to this place. Maybe in a few weeks we’ll have time to catch up, but in the meantime, the bunkh—”
“No.” Frowning, he looked off into the distance, not meeting Della’s eyes. “Kess wouldn’t appreciate me spending time with another woman. I can’t risk doing anything to hurt her.”
Static invaded Della’s head. Hunter was her friend. Despite working beside the man, forging Morris Hill into a thriving community, they’d never crossed the line into a romantic interest or even a physical one. Not even once.
Della’s frozen smile lost its grip on her face. “But why would...” She huffed uncomfortably. “We’refriends, you and I. That’s not a threat to Kess in any way. Rakesh had loads of women friends when—”
“It’s not the same,” he said softly but firmly. “I can’t explain it, but it’s not the same. I’m sorry.”
“Hunter...” She tried again for a placating tone, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “You can’t be serious. What is this? The third-grade playground? You have a new girlfriend so you can’t talk to me? We’re grown-ups,” she argued, then barked a bitter laugh. “Hell, we’re the most grown-up people alive!”
He didn’t react to her attempt at a joke, simply removing her hand from his body like it was something diseased, his face solemn and serious. Della nearly toppled backward, the force of the gentle but decisive rejection of her touch landing like a blow to her chest.
“Kess saved my life,” he replied, his face urging an understanding of something important, something profound, yet beyond her comprehension.
Della spoke with care. “What do you mean she saved your life?”
The space between them emptied like a vacuum, the very air molecules stepping aside to make room for an ominous confession as icy blue eyes locked on hers. “She saved me from harming myself. I owe her everything, and I won’t do anything to jeopardize that.”
The spiraling vortex in Della’s head accelerated, whirring high winds that screeched in her ears like a thousand tornadoes. “You never told me you were consideringthat,” she whispered, her sinuses burning. “I would’ve stopped you.”
He shook his head slowly. “You couldn’t have.”
The unspoken implication rang out clear:she, his friend for twenty years, couldn’t have stopped him from taking his life, but Kess did. Della felt sick. And empty. And alone.
“I suppose,”—she blinked furiously, not wanting to cry and show weakness as the horror morphed to fury—“in your mind, you unilaterally planned to opt out of our friendship months ago, and since I would have to get used tothat, this isn’t any different. Right? Only”—she waved sarcastic jazz-hands—“lucky me, I don’t have to deal with your fuckingdeath—because there hasn’t been enough ofthatin my stupid fucking life—I only have to deal with getting friend dumped by my only friend.” She staggered a few steps back, holding up a palm when he opened his mouth. “Did you ever consider what effect your death would have on us? On the settlement? How selfish and cruel and fucking stupid that would’ve been?”
“Della, honey—”
“Don’tDella honeyme.” Drips of hot, salty anger slipped over her bottom lids. Della swallowed and swallowed again, trying to keep her giant junk drawer mess of emotions from scattering out on the ground.
Not far away, the low hum of voices and activity surrounding the mess hall ceased, and dozens of pairs of curious heads roved in their direction. Della turned her head away from the crowd, staring into the surrounding woods as she battled her feelings into submission.