Page 116 of Pack Choice

“And how would you know?” I say bitterly. He doesn’t have those responsibilities. He’s never faced the rejection I have. He knows fuck all.

“Molly’s different.”

I glance down at her. Don’t I know it. But she’s notthatdifferent. She knows what she wants. And it isn’t a lone wolf like me.

As if reading my thoughts, River says, “You ever consider that you got this all wrong, Colt? That living this way–”

“One shared heat doesn’t prove a thing.”

“It was like the old days,” River says, “only better.”

I scrub at my beard. It’s grown longer over these last few days and I need to trim it before I end up looking like a hobo.

“She won’t want us,” I say, the same old parroted line I’ve been saying for years.

“I think you’re wrong,” he says.

I can’t do this. I close the door on the conversation, stepping out into the hallway and tiptoeing through River’s apartment. I remember when he bought it. As soon as he heard I was moving to take over Mack’s firm. He’s always done shit like that. No matter where he’s been in the world, no matter what he’s been doing, he’s always been the one to keep in touch, to keep close by. It fills me with guilt. Everybody thinks River Caspian is a player, unreliable, selfish, out for himself.

I know that he isn’t. I know he fucks up. I also know deep down he is doggedly loyal. Doggedly loyal and deeply caring. If I needed his help, he’d be there in a flash. No questions asked.

It’s me who is the asshole. Who’s pushed him away all these years. Who’s made my pain his pain. I told myself it was for the best. That I was doing him a favor. That he’d find a pack and an omega. But he never has.

Yeah, I haven’t been fair. He may love his racing with an unfaltering passion. But he loves us too. Loyally.

Doggedly loyal. At all costs.

It’s early morning. The streets are not yet full with commuter traffic. I should make it home for breakfast. I hail a taxi out on the street and think about River and Molly, even Ford, all the way home.

I know what River’s hoping. Fuck, aren’t I hoping for it too?

But what’s the point in hope, it only leads to disappointment. It isn’t going to go the way River wants it to. We’ve been here before.

Molly wants a pack. We are not a pack. And one thing I’ve learned about that woman, she’s freaking stubborn. She’s not going to change her mind. I thought I could convince her. Now I know I can’t.

There’s no future for us here – any of us.

Ford is a lone wolf. I am now too. And River …? Who the fuck knows.

30

River

I sit in the armchair,untouched coffee long since cold, and watch over the omega.

I don’t like to sit. I never have. Never could sit still for long. The driver’s seat is the only one that’s ever captured my attention. I like to move. Sitting in one place drives me stir-crazy.

But not today. Today I sit and watch her, something murmuring in my chest and keeping me locked in my seat.

The traffic roars into life out on the streets and sunlight filters in around the blinds and finally the little thing stirs.

She’s clearly not a morning person. It takes an age for her eyes to drag open and even then she blinks, her eyelids falling shut as she rolls over. It happens like that four more times until eventually she focusses in on the room.

“Morning, little one,” I whisper and she peers around the room until she finds my gaze.

She looks exactly like an omega should after days of being in a heat – like she’s been thoroughly fucked. Her hair lies in tangles about her face, mascara is smeared down her cheeks and rings her eyes and little purple bruises litter her throat and her shoulders.

She looks like a dream. I’m tempted to prowl right over there and have her again.