And I can’t move. Can’t breathe. Can’t think.
All I can do is wait for whatever awful thing is coming for me next.
TWELVE
NOAH
The driveto Whitesong Cabins took twice as long as it should have. Snow blankets the road in increasingly thick layers, and even Grayson’s truck with its heavy-duty snow tires struggles on the steeper sections. Visibility has dropped to almost nothing, the world beyond our headlights a swirling void of white.
“This is insane,” Kai says from the crew cab, peering through the windshield. “The storm wasn’t supposed to hit for hours.”
“Mountain weather,” I reply, gripping the door handle as Grayson navigates a sharp turn. “Unpredictable at the best of times.”
Grayson’s eyes remain fixed on the road, his hands steady on the wheel. “Barometric pressure dropped faster than forecasted. Wind shifted. Classic setup for a blizzard.”
“Thank you, Mr. Weather Channel,” Kai mutters. “Any other obvious observations you’d like to share?”
I ignore their bickering, focusing instead on the worry gnawing at my insides. Holly’s cabin is one of the more remote properties, tucked against the tree-line where the mountain slope steepens dramatically. Beautiful views, but isolated. Dangerous in a storm like this.
And if she is an omega off her suppressants...
The thought sends an unexpected thrill through me. I push it down, disgusted with myself. She’s a colleague in potential danger, not some sexual object for me to fantasize about. What kind of alpha am I?
The kind Jamie always accused you of being, a voice whispers in my head.Possessive. Controlling. Unreasonable.
I close my eyes briefly, willing the memory away. Not now. I can’t think about Jamie now.
“There,” Grayson says, pointing through the windshield. “Cabin lights.”
Sure enough, a warm glow penetrates the swirling snow ahead. Relief washes over me, followed immediately by embarrassment at how strongly I feel it. Holly is fine. Of course she’s fine. She’s a capable adult who doesn’t need three alphas charging to her rescue like something out of a bad movie.
Grayson pulls up to the cabin, the truck’s headlights illuminating Holly’s Subaru, already half-buried in snow. The cabin itself is small but sturdy, built to withstand Heat Mountain’s brutal winters. Smoke curls from the chimney, a good sign that she’s figured out how to use the wood stove.
“So what’s the plan here?” Kai asks as Grayson cuts the engine. “We just knock on her door and say:Hey, we were in the neighborhood during a blizzard and thought we’d drop by?”
“We’re checking if she needs supplies,” I say firmly. “That’s it.”
Kai’s knowing grin is infuriating. “Right. Just being neighborly.”
We trudge through knee-deep snow to the cabin’s front door. I raise my hand to knock, then hesitate. What if she thinks we’re intruding? What if she resents our assumption that she needs help?
Before I can overthink it further, Grayson reaches past me and raps sharply on the door.
For a long moment, there’s no response. Then, “Who is it?”
Holly’s voice sounds strained, higher-pitched than usual.
“It’s Noah,” I call back, wincing at the familiarity of offering up my first name. “With Grayson and Kai. We came to check if you need anything for the storm.”
Another pause. I can almost feel her debating whether to open the door.
Finally, the lock clicks, and the door opens a crack. Holly peers out, her face flushed and her hair slightly disheveled. “That’s... very considerate of you. But I’m fine, really.”
She’s lying again. I can see it in the tightness around her eyes, the slight tremor in her hand on the doorframe. Something’s wrong.
“The storm’s intensifying faster than predicted,” I say, trying to keep my tone professional. “Roads will be impassable within the hour. We brought extra supplies just in case.”
Holly glances past me at the truck, then back to my face. She seems to weigh her options.
