My hands are trembling. I press them flat against my thighs, trying to steady them.
I know what they’re sensing. Know what’s calling to them beneath the chemical fog of my suppressants. But I also know what the doctors told my parents when I was eighteen, that my Omega was dormant, defective, that I’d never go into heat or form a proper bond. That I couldn’t give an Alpha pack what they truly required.
What’s the point of letting them get close? They’d just figure out eventually that I’m broken. That I can’t give them the connection they’re searching for. And then they’d leave, and I’d be left behind with nothing but rejection and a secret I should never have let slip.
Better to stay hidden. “Maybe you guys are overthinking it,” I say lightly. “Looking for something that isn’t there.”
Carter studies me for a long moment. I can feel his gaze on the side of my face, assessing, questioning.
“Maybe,” he says finally. “But I don’t think so.”
He doesn’t push further, and I’m grateful for it.
We pull onto the main road a few minutes later, and Carter parks along the curb in front of the hardware store. The police station looms up ahead on the small side street, and I realize with a sinking feeling that I’ve been here more times in the last twenty-four hours than I have in the entire past year.
“Ready?” Carter asks.
“As I’ll ever be.”
We stroll up the gravel path together, our footsteps crunching in the quiet morning air. The lobby is busier than last night, a few officers milling around, phones ringing, that low hum of activity that says the rodeo has officially made the local PD’s life more complicated.
The woman behind the desk, young, dark-haired, someone I vaguely recognize from around town, looks up as we enter.
“I’m here to give a statement,” I say. “Regarding the charges against Seth Benton.”
She nods and picks up her phone, murmuring something I can’t hear. A moment later, she gestures toward a hallway.
“Sheriff Cade will see you. Second door on the left.”
I glance at Carter. “You should probably wait here.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
He nods, but there’s concern in those green eyes. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
The words settle warmly in my chest, and I have to push down the flutter they cause.
“Thanks.”
Sheriff Cade’s office is cluttered with files stacked in little towers, and coffee rings on the desk. You can tell he spends more time at work than at home. He’s rugged and a man who’s seen too much, but he’s only in his forties. His wife went missing years ago. Not all the details are known, but it involves an escaped prisoner.
“June.” He rises as I enter. “Close the door. Have a seat.”
I do, settling into the worn leather chair across from him.
“The team is swamped with rodeo business,” he says, “so I’m handling this personally. I understand you were present during the altercation last night.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell me what happened. Your own words.”
So I do. I explain about receiving the call from Pete. Picking Seth up from the station. Walking toward my car and encountering Tanner on the sidewalk, visibly intoxicated, aggressive, looking for a fight. I describe the verbal abuse, the way Tanner shoved me to the ground, the punch he threw at Seth before Seth ever lifted a hand.
“Seth was defending himself and me,” I finish. “Tanner started the whole thing.”
Cade makes notes, his pen scratching against paper. “Anyone else around who might have witnessed this?”
