Always.
Rhett
The sheriff looked like every small-town cliché ever written — big hat, thicker mustache, and that drawl that could stretch a syllable into a sermon. I used to roll my eyes at men like him. Still kind of did, honestly. But right then? I could’ve kissed him.
Not for his charm. For the simple fact that he wasnotRylan.
He nodded like he’d seen this kind of thing before, alphas who went too far, omegas who got caught in the mess, and the rest of us trying not to tear the world apart in response.
“Press all the charges you want,” he said, his voice like gravel and tobacco. “Boy’s lucky you didn’t kill him outright.”
I almost laughed.Luckydidn’t even begin to cover it. If Roan hadn’t been the one holding the line, Rylan would’ve been fertilizer under the pines by now.
Then came the part that made me grind my teeth.
The sheriff tipped his hat toward the cabin in that lazy way of his and said, “If she’s yours, best finish bonding her right quick. Make it official. Save everyone the headache later.”
Alphas will be alphas, that was the subtext. Boys will be boys. A little omega panic, a little violence, nothing the world hadn’t seen before.
It should’ve pissed me off more than it did. Maybe it did. Right now it was a low, simmering thing in my gut that wanted to argue with the whole damned structure of how we’d built. But Roan’s hand brushed my shoulder, a subtle touch, and the fire cooled just enough.
“Let it go,” he murmured under his breath, eyes forward.
He was right. Wren was what mattered. Everything else could burn.
By the time the sheriff and the ranger climbed back into their truck, my head was already somewhere else. Or more accurately onsomeoneelse.
Wren.
The thought of her hit me all at once, low and deep and visceral. She was alive. Safe. Waiting.
For us.
We didn’t talk on the way back to the cabin. Didn’t need to. The air between Roan and me was charged, humming with the same single thought:claim her.
Snow crunched under our boots, wet clothes sticking to our skin. The moment we stepped inside, heat from the cabin’s fireplace hit us, all rich and smoky and thick with the scent ofher. Her heat had deepened, lush and heady, curling through the air like a drug.
Then I heard it.
Her cry.
A sound that made my heart slam against my ribs and my cock go hard in the same instant.
It wasn’t a cry of pain. Oh, no. It was that soft, broken sound omegas make when they’recoming undone.
Jay was with her. Good. Smart man. He’d done what we’d asked, warmed her up, eased her through the beginning of it.
Still, the possessive part of me, the alpha in me, snapped awake like a wolf hearing the dinner bell.
“Rhett,” Roan warned, voice low, steady. Always steady.
I shot him a grin. “Not doing anything stupid. Just… fast.”
He smirked, but I saw the same hunger flicker behind his eyes. Then he went around, checking every lock, every window. That was our Roan, methodical, protective, the kind of man who made sure the world stays outside before letting his heart loose. I wasn’t built that way. My pulse was already racing ahead of me, already in that bathroom, with her.
Steam poured from under the cracked door. The scent of Wren, sweet and slick and wild, filled every inch of the cabin. When we pushed the door open, it was like stepping into a storm.
She was there, braced against the tile, hands on the wall, water pouring over her back. Her hair clung to her skin, her body trembling in that way that wasn’t about cold anymore. Jay was behind her, mouth at her neck, one hand gripping her hip.
