“Well? Is she going to wake up?” I finally ask, my voice low but edged with concern.
Fen shrugs, brushing the damp strands of hair from her forehead. “She’ll be fine. Sometimes they just need a moment. All she needs is warmth and comfort.”
But a moment stretches into what feels like hours, and I’m falling deeper into my own thoughts, battling the fears that press against me like the storm outside. I can’t shake the worry that letting her in could be a mistake—a potential risk to our survival in this unforgiving wilderness.
I step back from the scene for an instant, needing to breathe, needing to mask the turmoil brewing inside. I glance around the cabin, the sturdy wooden beams keeping us protected from the storm, the memories of laughter and kindness shared in thisspace enveloping me, but the fear is persistent—it gnaws at my sanity.
“Kael.” Rhys’ voice draws my gaze back to him. “We can’t send her back out there. If we help her, we might just find a new ally.”
“But what if she’s being tracked?” I murmur, my voice hesitant. “What if this brings the council right to our doorstep?” I can’t let fear and paranoia take root. My instincts waver; they want to protect both Fen and the fragile creature lying before us.
“We take it one step at a time,” Rhys says, his tone soothing. “She’s an omega, Kael. She could become a part of our family.”
“Not only that, but she was on her way to Millbrook,” Fen adds.
Rhys and I exchange a look. Fen nods, visibly excited. “The universe brought her to us. We didn’t need to go to Millbrook after all—our omega came tous.”
I don’t like the way Fen’s already settled on her beingours.
Did he bond with her? Is that what he forgot to mention—that not only did he find and rescue her, but he bonded with her too?
Maybe it’s the storm making me paranoid. Or maybe just having an omega in the cabin is enough to set me on edge.
Either way, I’m not comfortable with her being here. And as much as Fen is excited, I’m going to have to keep an eye on not just her—but him, too.
FEN
My footsteps are muffled against the worn carpet as I approach Eliana's door, and I hesitate as I stand by the door. I know why she's always in her room—it's because of Kael. She's scared of him, and I don't blame her. I would be too. As a beta, my role is to be the one in the middle, but for an omega, I suppose it can be overwhelming to be with someone like him. Someone who isn't used to having someone see into his emotions. To someone like Kael, that's like walking around naked—something he can't do. He's just not that type of alpha, unlike Rhys.
She missed dinner again, this is the third time this week, and when I'd knocked earlier, her voice had been strained, dismissive in a way that wasn't like her.
I raise my hand to knock, then pause. Something feels different. The air itself seems charged, carrying an unfamiliar sweetness that makes my pulse quicken inexplicably. My beta senses, usually so steady and unremarkable, are picking up something that makes the hair on my arms stand on end.
"Eliana?" I call softly, pressing my palm against the cool wood of her door. "I brought you some tea."
The silence stretches long enough that I almost turn away, but then I hear it, a soft whimper, barely audible but so full of distress that my hand is already turning the knob before I can think better of it.
The scent hits me like a physical force as the door swings open. Sweet and intoxicating, it wraps around me with an intensity that makes my knees weak. Heat. The realization crashes over me just as I take in the scene before me.
Eliana is curled on her bed, her dark hair a mess across the pillows, her usually bright eyes now glazed and unfocused. Her oversized sweater—some soft cream thing she'd thrown on against the winter chill—has slipped off one shoulder, showing off the curve of her collarbone, while the hem has ridden up around her wide hips. The fabric clings to her full breasts, rising and falling with each quick breath, and her thick thighs peek out where her sleep shorts have twisted up. Every curve of her body looks even better like this, all flushed and heated despite the cold outside. When she turns toward me, her pupils are so blown out her eyes look almost black.
"Fen," she breathes, and fuck, my name has never sounded like that before, as if she needs me to breathe.
Every logical part of my brain is telling me to back the hell away, close the door, let her deal with this alone or call someone who actually knows what they're doing. But my feet are glued to the floor, and when she reaches for me with those shaking fingers, I'm done for.
"Your suppressants," I manage, my voice coming out way rougher than I meant it to. "When did you last—"
"Forgot," she whispers, and the shame in her voice hits me right in the chest. "I forgot, and now I can't Fen, please. It hurts."
The tea mug slips right out of my hands, hitting her hardwood floor with a sharp crack that makes us both jump. The sound seems to echo in the thick air between us. I step forwardbefore I can think about it, pulled by something that's way beyond logic.
"What do you need?" The words are out before I can stop them, and they sound more confident than I feel.
She looks up at me through those long lashes, and I can see the battle happening on her face—want fighting embarrassment, instinct against everything she's been taught. When she finally speaks, her voice is barely there.
"I need..."
I move toward the bed slowly, making sure she can see what I'm doing. Her room is a mess—clothes scattered everywhere, books fallen off her nightstand, the room looks like a tornado hit it. Her bedsheets are tangled, pillows thrown around, and there's this sweet, intoxicating scent hanging in the air that's making my head spin. The winter wind rattles her windows, but inside it's warm, almost stifling with the heat pouring off her.
