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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

LEO

O ur omega seems very confused by the truth, if the way she crinkles her little nose is any clue.

The smattering of freckles she’s developed bunches up like clusters of chocolate chips on her tanned skin.

Freckles like mine. I grin at that as she allows me to thread my fingers through hers, one hand at her waist, as I lift her up the cliff.

“Come on,” I say as softly as I can manage, “we’re falling behind the pack.”

Grace nods and holds my hand tighter, and I guide her through the worst of the hills, grateful every time I can find an excuse to have her, lift her, lead her as an alpha should.

Her tense expression becomes softer as we climb higher and higher towards the Lighthouse.

Her smile is almost playful as I lift her, obviously looking at her butt in the shorts hugging her hips.

She’s rounded out so nicely since she came home to our pack.

And that makes me proud that I’ve provided as a hunter and proved myself.

I proved myself, and she let me claim her. It still feels like a grave.

“Enoughs staring at my ass, caveman. Raphael and Nakoa are saying we have to rest,” she says, clicking her tongue at me as I push her over the ledge, and then climb it with one hand.

I squeeze her hip, not apologizing for looking. No, I go as far as touching, slapping her ass next as she stands.

“Get moving then,” I murmur, and she laughs.

I never thought I’d hear her laugh again. This thought sends me into a funk, my mood as dark as the swirling storm clouds above.

Our little exhibition won’t amount to much.

Faith is dead, the city’s a graveyard, and the prison…

Well, that’s the entrance to hell. But we have to cross it to get to the other side, our prize.

I know I need to focus, but all I want to do is spread her toned legs so I can continue pampering that pussy, knotting her until I can’t anymore.

Because somehow, she’s still in heat. It’s not a full heat cycle, but her smell is just too… sweet.

I frown at that. It’s been almost two months since I first caught her scent.

Is a heat supposed to last that long? I have no idea; the only other omega I’ve encountered was my mother, and she died long before I was aware there were such things as alphas, betas, and omegas.

And her scent smells… different. It’s so vague now, but it didn’t evoke these raw emotions; it only brought comfort.

Nakoa once told me that families cannot scent each other in that way.

Our natural paternity and maternity test, he joked.

But now I’m not so sure if what he told me about heats is true, because Grace is most definitely running a low-grade fever, not flooding her panties with slick, but certainly dripping it. And it doesn’t make any sense. Unless…

I glance at Raphael, who’s helping Nakao make a tent from our traps against something that resembles a truck.

I’d usually ask Raphael to guide me when Nakoa is wrong–rare as it is–but he’s been oddly cagey since the yacht sank.

Since he took Grace in her nest, Raphael’s been acting strange.

He’s also the only one left in our pack who hasn’t bonded.

“Why are we making camp so soon?” I ask, helping everyone so that we can speed up the process.

Nakoa nods towards the sky, and now I notice the storm clouds are way too thick and heavy. A torrential downpour is coming our way tonight.

”Let’s rest. We’re in the eye of the storm, but it’ll get worse. And we can’t risk any of us slipping down the cliff,” Nakoa says sagely, holding his palm upward to the cleared blue sky.

And like magic, lightning cracks and thunder booms in the distance, and a sprinkle of rain starts falling from the sky.

Grace squeaks, and after a nod from our pack alpha, I grab her and place her under a tarp since there’s no way we can build a fire right now.

I sink to the ground, Grace settles in between my thighs like a puzzle piece sliding into place, and I sigh, nuzzling the top of her head before taking off after my pack.

I don’t mind sharing the woman meant for us, but it seems Raphael still does.

He eyes me with… not so much contempt but longing.

Like, he’s supposed to be comforting Grace.

And he could, she would let him, if he opened his heart to her fully.

Ah, it makes sense now, what Raphael needs from me as his packmate and brother.

“Shit, he’s right. That’s just asking for trouble. Mud slides, avalanches. It’s not safe to move right now,” Raphael chimes in abdently, securing the last tarp over camp.

I want to add nothing about this shit is safe, but bite my tongue.

Literally, I groan, and Grace looks up at me with concern.

I bury my nose in her hair, and she stiffens before melting into my arms. Every day, bit by bit, she’s replacing her grief with rage.

But it won’t fuel her forever. Everybody dies.

But I swear that the next victim claimed will not be our omega. Maybe it’s time to stop this mission.

Maybe…

“Why don’t you and Raphael camp higher up hill?” I offer, not revealing the why behind my question.

Nakoa and Raphael whip around and raise their eyebrows at the same time in confusion. I laugh. Sometimes they mirror each other like twins.

“Why?” Nakoa asks, and I shrug, Grace drifting off in my arms as I squeeze and rub her cold, clammy body to keep her awake.

“Higher up, further from any wolf who might have slipped through the fence. They have to get through us first. Plus, we all know it’s warmer up there because of the permanent camp,” I say, and Raphael looks away, ashamed.

As if he should be ashamed for paying homage to his first pack.

Nakoa looks between all of us before murmuring, “Alright. It wouldn’t hurt.

There’s only one way up to the lighthouse, like you said.

And that way, one of us doesn’t have to stand guard all night.

Between Leo and me, one of us will wake up during an attack.

And worst case, Raphael has time to run with Grace.

It’s smart, Leo. Let’s do it. Plus, you’ll be warmer there. ”

“As if I’d fucking run from any threat,” he grumbles, making Grace snickers.

“Um, do I get a say in this?” Grace asks meekly, totally unlike her usual self, a stark reminder that the wounds on her heart may never heal.

“Nah,” Nakoa says with a thin smile. “Pack leader orders.”

I can almost hear Grace’s eyes rolling to the back of her skull. I stand and drag her with me, and she looks up, eyes shining bright with reluctance. She never likes being alone with Raphael unless they’re fucking, and it’s time to change that.

As I watch them part, it’s not lost on me, the loneliness in Raphael’s eyes.

He stares after him, but his eyes are distant, despondent.

He can feel it too. And it all clicks into place, and I grin ear to ear.

A little alone time should resolve the issue.

It will heal our pack, especially that place, his secret place, the one a proud alpha like Raphael would never show Grace without a push.

“From his guardian angel,” I muse, rubbing my chin.

I look over to Nakoa, who’s been staring at me. He’s holding a rubber band in his hand, and I nod, allowing him to pull my hair back into a low ponytail. It’s past my mid-back now.

“Why did you really want us to separate?” he asks, and I dodge the question.

“Haven’t you noticed that Raphael, he’s… he’s feeling the big sad,” I search for the word. I’ve gotten so good at remembering big words as I’ve grown older, it frustrates me when they don’t come to me easily.

Nakoa tilts his head in confusion, his once close-cropped hair grown out enough that it curls around his ears.

“He’s dying inside. His heart,” I attempt to explain.

“No one’s dying,” Nakoa says softly, closing the gap between us, pressing his forehead to mine.

“He is dying. Dying but breathing. So sad he wants to die, like Grace. He just hides it better because he’s proud,” I try again, and this time understanding dawns on Nakoa’s sharp features.

“Suicidally depressed?” he offers. I nod, and he scowls,

“Give me a break. That horndog’s just mad, Grace; she let you claim her before him, and that hurt his ego. That’s it. Don’t stress about it.”

I scowl back at him and turn away. The rain is letting up a bit, so I decide to start a fire so we can get as warm as possible.

Nakoa eyes me strangely as we settle into camp for the night.

We’re far enough away that we can’t see Raphael and Grace, but close enough that they’re easy to rescue if things go wrong.

“...It’s up to Grace,” I begin, my voice wavering, “But if we’re going to be a family, we all have to be a family. Including Raphael. He has to be her home.”

“Ah, so you’re playing matchmaker in the pack?” Nakoa says, but the joke doesn’t land.

“Testing out a theory.”

“You wanted her to choose us. I want her to accept him. No difference,” I say, hoping he understands.

Despite what they think, I’m not stupid. Not the smartest. Sometimes I make mistake. But he didn’t bite her right the first time on purpose. Nakoa doesn’t make mistakes, not stupid ones like that.

He gives me a strange, unreadable look before getting to work lighting the fire. He doesn’t speak to me for about an hour as we wait out the storm in the enclosure, once some ship or vehicle or something else from the mainland that’s been broken for years.

Suddenly, he speaks up, “It’s up to Grace, but we aren’t separating, Leo. Not now, not ever. She hasn’t come between us. She’s keeping us together.”

I sigh. He doesn’t get it. He thinks I have some beef with Raphael and I want him to fuck that tension out of the air that’s hovering between us.

As I’m lost in thought, Nakoa leans in close, wrapping an arm around my waist. I lean back and lie down beside him, our bodies pressed close together to stay warm.

I hug him so tight, Nakoa slaps my back with a laugh.

But then he grows silent when I don’t let go.

“I am your home,” I say, hoping to convey even a tiny amount of how much I love him, as a friend, as my pack leader, and most of all, as my brother.

“What does that mean?” he asks.

“It means we’re family,” I say, and he grumbles something like, “Okay, then say that you freak.”

But I don’t press it anymore. Nakoa falls asleep first. He’s rarely a deep sleeper, so I know the rain is doing something to him.

It is to me, too, as well as the bone-deep knowing that I’ve found a part of my soul in Grace.

To claim her… I never knew I could taste paradise, but I did.

And I will, worshiping between her slick thighs for the rest of my days. Now it’s time for Raphael to admit it.

With Faith gone, Grace is barely holding on. She needs to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we will be her family forever now. That her sister didn’t die in vain, because we will avenge her.

“We are her home,” I murmur as I fade away. “And she is ours.”