Hunter pushed a hand through his salt -and -pepper hair. “I don’t know what to say to help you understand. Kess—”
“This hasnothingto do with you and Kess.” Della’s voice was tight. “This has to do with you and me.” She cut a glance at him, noting the distress lines on his face with some grim satisfaction and then feeling like shit about that. Grief, anger, and frustration burned an acid hole in her chest. The sensation so acute and painful she checked her shirtfront to reassure herself it wasn’t real.
Except that it was. It was all too real, an all too real reminder of the lesson she’d learned decades ago: caring now equals pain later. She’d let her guard down with Hunter; they’d become friends, and here’s where it brought her. Twenty years of working together to build Morris Hill from a run-down, abandoned vacation venue to a beautiful, healthy, thriving community, only to discover he’d secretly planned onkilling himself? Without even mentioning it to her or saying goodbye?
“You’re right. I don’t understand,” she finally said, her tone steady and under control. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could talk to me about whatever you were going through. And I’m sorry you’re choosing to cut me loose, for both of our sake’s.”
Footsteps rustled through the grass, someone approaching at a rapid clip. Della dashed her shameful tears with a vicious swipe.
“Hey, thought you were out of commission for the day.” Colt’s familiar voice announced his unwelcome and inopportune presence.
“I am,” Hunter replied without any hint of emotion. “Need a word with you and Logan, though.”
Feeling marginally under control, Della backed up a few steps to prime her escape. There was nothing else she needed to say to Hunter today. Or maybe ever.
Colt’s attention flicked between the two of them like a worried parent. “Everything okay over here?”
“Yes.” She pivoted into brusque senator mode. “Hunter and I were discussing building a bunkhouse for the unmated Omegas. He’ll fill you in on the details, but we should get started this summer. I’d love to chat with you about it sometime. Not right now, though. I have… things to do.”
Like an automaton, her legs pumped stiff and jerky as she retraced the path back to her cabin.God dammit. It was all too much. Too much to assimilate with her feelings pulled in all directions like she was being actively drawn and quartered. Less than an hour out of her cabin and all she wanted was to lock herself inside, curl up in her bed, and try to remember a time when a fallout with a friend didn’t feel like the end of the world all over again.
CHAPTER FOUR
Cal
Ignoring the shouting coming from the stable behind him, Cal rolled his shoulders, impatient to get started with his first official Morris Hill work assignment: patrol duty. Despite the rocky start to the day, patrol duty suited him. His protective instincts always ran deep, but even more so now that he had something precious to protect.
Unfortunately, a delay ensued as Sloan, the stable manager, worked himself up into a full-on meltdown about the state of the stables upon his return. He loudly and fervently insisted on personallyinspecting all the horses before “allowing” any of them to be taken out. Silas, the Alpha paired with Cal for patrol, requested an estimate of the time required for two mounts, only to be met with ear-splitting wrath.
Already hard at work shoveling shit in the stable, Simon flashed Cal a look that saidif I were you, I’d get the hell out of here.He didn’t need to be told twice.Leaving Silas to negotiate with the volatile Sloan, Cal took the opportunity to stroll around the large, well-kept corral.
Shaking off his impatience, he stretched his neck to the sky and sucked in a deep, cleansing lungful of the pine-scented air. Mid-morning sunshine stole through some fluffy clouds but, thankfully, none of them appeared to hold rain. With luck, they’d have a nice, dry ride checking the northern perimeter of the Morris Hill Pack’s territory. Having grown up on the opposite side of the continent, he itched to explore this lush, green part of the world, particularly since it appeared he’d be staying for a while. From the stables, the sound of a bucket crashing against the wall punctuated the latest burst of curses. Cal grimaced. That is, if they ever got going.
Movement on the north side of the paddock drew his notice. A slight figure slung blankets over the fencing as a breeze whooshed by and delivered a trace of black currants to his nose.
Della.
Heart tapping a driving rhythm against his breastbone, Cal prowled closer.
Unbound hair poured down her back and swished over her straight spine. It shimmered in shades of faded copper, white, and gray, like a feline calico. Signs of her age contoured her face in ways that set her apart from younger Omegas: fine lines that feathered from her eyes and a certain delicate texture to her skin. But, somehow, all of that only confirmed his interest. Here was a woman who’d survived on her own merit, who didn’t cower to Alphas or make compromises to her honor even when caught alone in dark corners.
Fully entranced, he moved closer, drinking in her proud, fine-boned profile, rare in hearty Omega stock. Her deep-set eyes were clear, honest, and entirely focused on her task. High cheekbones and stubborn chin gave her an aloof, queenly air that called to him like a beautiful thing he wanted to meticulously savor before ravaging completely. How firmly rooted was that lofty composure? How much digging would it take to find her hidden reservoir of passion?
Because, surely, no woman with a mouth like Della’s was as indifferent as she fronted last night. Full lips, the color of the evening primroses that grew near his childhood home, pursed, and puffed, and flexed as she worked, as if carrying on a silent, one-sided conversation with herself. Every subtle muscle twitch, expressive and seductive, provided all the evidence he needed of thwarted sensuality beneath all the earnest dignity he burned to upset.
Cal inhaled, letting the traces of her zesty-sweet scent filter in and stir him from the inside out. A sharp note, like junipers, cut through the floral part of her aroma and made him desperate to know what tangy flavor he’d lap from between her thighs. In the broad light of day, he wanted all that and more. He wanted her body pinned under his, his knot thrust deep in her cunt, his name pleading on her lips, and his claiming mark blazing on her neck.
Corralling that impulse back in check, he turned his attention to her activity. From yards away, he spotted the slight shaking in her muscles and the laboring heave of her chest as she worked alone, dragging thick, unwieldy blankets up and over the fence. Horse blankets, it looked like, heavy and sodden from a recent bath, taxed the Omega’s arms. As he cleared the final few yards between them, the potent animal smell confirmed this fact.
Della stooped for another load, and Cal bent to help. Surprised, blue eyes snapped to his face and then quickly away, shoulders immediately stiffening as she wrestled with the opposite side of the blanket. “I can handle it,” she sniffed.
“Not arguing that point,” he said mildly, continuing to help her hoist the dripping thing over the fence.Christ, hadn’t anyone bothered to wring these damn things out?“But since I’m here…”
Blanket arranged over the top rail, Cal squeezed excess water from the freely hanging folds as Della stepped back with her hands on her hips.
For the first time in their short acquaintance, she stood still and looked him fully in the face, chest open and chin raised, defiant and confident. Unable to resist, Cal skated a glance down the front of her body. She wore a practical button-down shirt, transparent from laundry water soaking her from slim shoulders down to her rounded thighs—a good sign this Pack had enough resources to keep their Omegas pleasantly plump, which he appreciated.
A stiff breeze blew past, not enough to agitate the heavy blankets but enough to pebble her nipples beneath her soggy shirt. Large and pronounced, the sight made his mouth water. In the dark, he’d gotten an all-too-brief feel of her, but the desire to map her completely, to outline her particular shape in every nuanced dip and rise, drummed deep inside him with an urgency like nothing else he’d ever experienced.