Just as I thought, he can’t swim.
“Cal-ee!” he calls, thrashing the water into foam.
I suck in another breath and then dive into the water, ready to drag him to the shallows. But as the water receives me and the bubbles clear, Zack smiles at me through the blue.
Oh, fuck!
His big hands close around me, flipping me over. I kick, panic rising to choke me. My strained gurgle releases far too much breath as fear’s icy fingers lock around my lungs. Zack’s iron grip tightens, and he drags me clear of the surface like a rag doll. The breath I snatch flees as he hurls me down on my back, half inand half out of the pool. He leans over me, trapping me with his weight.
He grins, huffing for breath. “Did Cal-ee think Zack can’t swim?”
“I hoped,” I rasp out, my heart sinking.
He leans in, pressing my arms into the sandstone pavers. “How you think kennels condition dogs?”
I’d groan if I had enough breath left, but all I can do is wriggle helplessly, bent backwards over the stone lip without a shred of leverage. I couldn’t beat him in a straight fight, so I played dirty, but he still won. No matter what I try, I can’t win against this alpha.
“Give up?” he growls, breath hot against my throat.
My alpha self withers, cowed by the fierceness of his challenge. My primal self demands I submit in hopes he’ll spare me, but my head knows better. I’ve spent far too long running away. To give up now means losing my pack forever.
In the corner of my eye, I catch Red and Rickon watching, both tense. Red presses one hand to her belly, feeling everything Zack does. I want what they have. I want a mainline to Red’s emotions so I never have to guess. For us to sit together late in the evenings eating gluten-free snacks while watching the movies she’s made, after a day working with Zack to help other ferals.
And I want to take them to bed and hear their dulcet moans in my ear as I make love to Red and Rickon before waking up in the mornings with my pack in my arms. And if I can’t have that, I don’t want anything else.
I drop my head back, exposing my throat. “Kill me then, because I’ll never give up on Red.”
“Should I kill?” he asks, tone oddly soft for such a wild alpha.
I wheeze for breath, unable to answer.
“Or should I accept Cal-ee, hmm?”
I thrash one arm free and lock it around his neck as I hiss, “You know the answer, Zack.” A hint of pleading enters my voice. “Accept me, and you won’t regret it.”
He rumbles with what might be a chuckle and dips his nose into the hollow at the base of my throat. My senses screech with the unbearable vulnerability. Zack’s noisy inhale roars in my ears as he takes my scent. Despite the chlorine stinging my nose, his burned barley aroma shines strongly.
With my senses fully opened and roaring from the fight, his alpha presence digging into mine becomes clear. It’s an intangible sensation, like a spiritual force. I gasp. Everything explodes with meaning as I lay, waiting for death. The sky’s so blue above, the stone so hard beneath, water trickles down my skin, each drop unique. And Zack’s so raw and powerful, bending over me.
I’ve never felt so alive.
The career I chose not only trapped my soul but my body as well. Locked away from sunlight and bound to a desk, I gradually allowed my God-given senses to shrink. Not that the office work itself is the problem, but more so the lack of balance.
And as my senses reel with the discovery, the exhaustion I’ve staved off for all these years rushes in. I’m so fucking tired I can’t even move. How hard did I push myself chasing a tarnished, meaningless trophy? Maybe I was already more dead than alive.
I won’t live that way anymore.
I smile, my scent flooding in response to the powerful sensations pouring through me.
Zack’s voice finds me as I sprawl under the sun, pinned by his weight. “You awake now?”
“Yeah.” More than ever.
“Maybe you survive helping ferals after all.” He chuckles and rises. “Welcome to pack, Cal-ee.”
A dry sob catches in my throat, and I cover my eyes with my arm.
Water splashes around me as Zack hops up onto the pool’s edge. A moment later he lifts me upright, dragging me onto my unsteady feet. A bristly cheek scrapes over mine as the prime alpha marks me with his scent.
