Cameron

A s soon as Ollie realized what the body was, he hurried me into the cabin to get dressed.

“Get your clothes on and pack up. Hurry, before the rest of the camp wakes up,” he hissed as he shoved me inside.

Removed from the horror outside, I had a few seconds to process what had happened earlier. Not the attack, no. I needed to process the discussion Nate and I had. A discussion that had verged on another argument.

Was Nate being serious about possibly staying? I’d been so sure that he wouldn’t want to deal with all this that I’d basically tried to push him away. The thought that he might actually stay filled me with a confused sort of wonder

What happened if JC didn’t allow him in, though?

What would I do when he drove off into the sunset alone?

The image, dark and depressing, flashed across my mind.

I prayed that wouldn’t happen. Begged fate to not allow that.

What I really needed to do was make sure Nate knew how I really felt.

Regardless of what happened later, he needed to know that there was someone who cared for him.

How? Ollie was going to take me away any minute.

Once tires met the road, I might never see Nate again.

If things went poorly, then he may vanish.

God, why was everything moving fast? It seemed that from the moment that feral attacked me in the garage, someone had pressed the fast-forward button on my life.

There was no time to think or plan. All I could do was react.

Nate had changed my life. In an incredibly short amount of time, he’d shown me more than any man had my whole life. I didn’t want to lose him to some silly decision made by a man neither of us had even met yet.

I didn’t even bother brushing my teeth or my hair. I hurriedly got dressed, then shoved all my stuff into my bag and hauled it downstairs.

Ollie and Nate were hard at work by the creek. He and Nate were wrapping the body in a bunch of trash bags, like they were packing up a giant steak to go in a freezer. My gorge rose a bit at the mental image.

“Go get your truck,” Nate said to Ollie. “Did you bring my bike?”

“Yeah.” Ollie wiped sweat from his face with the back of his hand. “That’s why I borrowed the truck in the first place. Thank God I did. I didn’t think I’d be transporting a fucking body, too.”

“Move it,” Nate said. “I’ll finish this. People are gonna be up any minute.”

“Be back in a second.” Ollie broke into a run through the trees.

I stepped closer, watching as Nate rolled the trash bags around the feral shifter’s feet and calves.

“Nate?”

“Help me with his hips,” he said, distracted with the work.

I sighed and did as he asked, lifting the lower body up while he wrapped the legs. His face was drawn as he concentrated on his task. He finally glanced up as if to say something, but his face gave a look of terrified surprise as he looked over my shoulder.

“Shit, someone’s coming,” he whispered. “Hurry, cover him with leaves. Move .”

I glanced over my shoulder. One of the camp staff was walking the footpaths with an extendable hook, picking up trash. He was heading right toward our cabin.

“Cameron, help me.”

Unsure what his plans were, I whirled around and gathered handfuls of leaves, twigs, and patches of moss, spreading them across the body until it looked like some strange hump in the earth. Nate sat down and leaned against the body like he was relaxing in the morning air. I did the same.

A moment later, the worker strolled by. Catching sight of us, he waved. “Morning, folks. Sleep well?”

“Sure did,” Nate called back with a smile.

“Good for you. Breakfast starts in a half hour.”

“We’ll be there,” Nate replied.

The man continued on his way, slowly using his little hook device to pick up litter. A few seconds after he disappeared, Ollie pulled up, driving down the same path. It was barely big enough for the pickup, but he made it.

Nate let out a relieved sigh and leapt to his feet before hurrying to help Ollie with the bike.

He threw the tarp off the vehicle and began to undo the ratchet straps that held it in place.

The mere sight of the bike sent a lump to my throat.

Was this really the end? The motorcycle was like a symbol of Nate’s freedom and the road he’d be riding down in a few hours, twisting the throttle and screaming down the highway. Leaving me behind.

“Here,” Ollie said from the open passenger door, tossing Nate a small first-aid kit. “For your arm. It’ll heal fast, but you need to cover it.”

Nate caught the kit. He furrowed his brow as he glanced down at his injury.

It was as if he’d forgotten about it in the stress of the last few minutes.

He smeared some ointment on the wound, then bandaged it.

He tossed the kit back to Ollie, and as he did, I saw a faint red stain seeping through the gauze.

While Nate pulled a thick board out from the back of the truck to act as a ramp for the bike, Ollie ran back to the creek to get the body.

Everything was happening around me, like I was watching a movie rather than living it.

By the time Nate began to roll the motorcycle down, it was like I couldn’t breathe.

Each second was dragging me, kicking and screaming, toward the moment that we’d be separated.

No matter what words I thought up in my head, none of them sounded right.

None of them conveyed what I wanted and needed to say.

“Jesus, this fucker is heavy,” Ollie cursed as he hauled the body toward the truck, his head snapping back and forth to make sure the coast was clear.

He managed to heave the wrapped body over the edge of the truck bed and into the back. The body thunked against the metal of the truck bed, and I winced in disgust. Ollie threw another tarp on top of the body, then tied it down with the same straps that had held the bike in place.

Nate rolled his bike to the porch of the cabin and flipped the kickstand down.

“Nate, can we talk before I leave?” I asked.

“I gotta grab my stuff,” he grunted, and rushed past me back into the cabin.

Ollie eyed me suspiciously. “What the fuck is up with him? Seems stressed about something.”

“You could say that,” I mumbled.

“You ready to go?” he asked.

“Give me a second.”

I headed inside to talk to Nate. He was stuffing clothes into his bag, and he stiffened as I closed the door behind me.

“Nate, are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.

He froze, then sighed. “Cam, there’s no time for this. We’ve got to get you going.”

“Dammit, Nate. This is about you. Of course there’s time.”

“It’s about you, too,” he said, turning to look at me. “You can’t make this all about me. I’m just a lone wolf. You’re the one whose life is in danger. Whose whole life has been turned upside down.”

Deciding to come right out with it, I said, “Are you really serious about asking to join the pack?”

Straightening up, he took a few long moments before answering. “Maybe… shit, I don’t know. Possibly.”

“That doesn’t sound very definitive,” I said. “I’d like to know for sure before I leave.”

Something about what I said must have broken something inside him.

He tossed his bag down. “Cameron, I can’t be definitive, okay?

I just can’t. This isn’t a decision that belongs to me.

It’s all up to this alpha. There’s no way to know for sure if he’ll say yes.

” He let his arms fall to his sides, emotional exhaustion evident on his face and body language.

“Do you have any idea how scary this is for me? The idea of putting myself out there?”

“I get it,” I said, my voice soft, almost a whisper. “This is a big deal.”

He nodded and bent to pick up his bag again. “I told you I’d try, and I keep my promises, but I need a couple days to work up the courage.” He shot a worried look in my direction. “Can you give me a few days?”

“Sure,” I said, but at the back of my mind, I worried that he might take flight. Run off to the safety of the road.

At that thought, a surprising sensation filled me—my inner wolf whining sadly. The noise of it was so heartbroken and intense that I almost looked around to see if a physical wolf was actually there with me. Yet another thing I’d have to get used to.

“Come on,” Nate said, moving toward the door. “Let's get you on the road.”

As he passed, I reached out and grabbed his sleeve. “Come with us.”

“What?” He turned, brow furrowed, his hand on the doorknob.

“You heard me. Come with us now. You don’t need a few days to think it over. Come with me and Ollie. Ask to join now. With me and Ollie there to vouch for you, JC can’t say no.”

He reached up and took my hand off his sleeve, gently but firmly. “No.”

My shoulders sagged. “Why not?”

He opened the door, the cool air outside sliding in, breezing across my skin.

“The most important thing is you, Cameron. We need you safe, we need you accepted into the pack, and we need to make sure JC understands exactly what’s going on.

I come second.” He squeezed my hand. “And I do need time. Like I said, a couple days.”

I wanted to argue. There was something in his eyes that, no matter what he said, told me he wasn’t sold on the idea. Would I see him again? Was this possibly the last time I might see him? My stomach twisted, but further argument would get me nowhere. I had to have faith.

He nodded to Ollie. “See you someday soon, old friend. I’ll, uh, I’ll call you in a few days to check on how things are going.”

“Yup,” Ollie said, lifting a hand to wave. “Be careful out there, Nate.”

Ollie must have heard our conversation. He gave us both a strange look and even opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it before he spoke.

Nate threw me one last glance, then jammed his helmet on his head and started his bike. Looking over his shoulder, he locked his eyes on me.

“See you soon,” he said, then drove off.

I truly wished I could believe that, but a squirmy, incessant, and insecure part of my mind screamed out that I’d never see him again. Another whine emanated from my mind, my inner wolf twisting herself up with anxiety and grief.

As the first few drops of rain began to patter down on top of us, I watched Nate vanish around the corner, and I couldn’t help but feel like a piece of me was going with him. Some string that bound us together pulled thinner and thinner the farther he went.

When he fully vanished from sight down the campground driveway, it seemed to snap, and a pit of despair opened in my stomach. Deep in my mind, my inner wolf howled a mournful, heartbroken cry.