Winnie
I need to get my dog.
I realize that at this point Deputy has spent more time with Corbin than he’s ever spent with me but he’s still my dog even if I was at the bachelorette trip for three days, and then the hospital for two more. Since the alphas are staying in town my symptoms slowly receded until I could be discharged.
Ugh. I love that puppy, even if he’s only been in my life for a handful of moments. I bought him a zillion dog toys while I was on that disaster trip to Traverse City. Plus dog clothes, treats, and a bed. My little cottage is basically exploding with puppy stuff, and without him, it’s just a harsh reminder of how things were before the bite.
Still, I sit in my car outside Corbin’s cabin on the edge of the forest, not moving. Getting Deputy means talking to Corbin. Which is something I’ve studiously avoided for the last forty-eight hours while I’ve been in the hospital, and something I’m not sure I’m ready for yet.
My omega whines within me. She doesn’t like or understand any of this. In her opinion, we found our mates. One bit us. She bit him back—something I’m still very cross with her about. I usually listen to my omega psyche’s needs. We’re usually in harmony. Just another change in this horrible week I can’t seem to reconcile.
And underneath it all, there’s the current of him. Zeke. He’s a constant presence, his emotions washing through me like waves. Ishould be able to close the doors on our bond, but that can take weeks or—shudder—months to master. So he’s just there, and I know I’m there in his mind too. I can feel the space I occupy now that he’s closer. Like we’re connected by a daisy chain of thoughts.
The door to the cabin opens, and Corbin steps out, looking straight at me. His stance is wide and confident. He crosses his muscle-corded arms. He’s unfairly cut, and I have the insane urge to climb him like a tree. My omega scrambles inside me, but I shove her down hard.
He leans against the frame of his cabin, waiting.
I open the car door, smooth out the little flowered dress I’m wearing, and stride across the drive.
“I’m here for Deputy,” I say, keeping a good five feet between us and my voice as neutral as possible.
His eyes drop and close for a moment, as though he’s collecting himself.
“Deputy,” he calls over his shoulder through the open front door.
Mad scrambling follows. Like Deputy had just been waiting for permission to greet me. He comes bounding down the entry hall and out the front door. I kneel so he can rush into my arms. I’m surprised to find he doesn’t jump anymore, though he does lick my face with sloppy, wonderful kisses that make me laugh despite myself.
“Deputy,” Corbin lightly reprimands, and the dog sits.
Deputy looks up at me with big brown eyes. He’s grown—not a lot, but enough that it’s noticeable even after just a few days. He is fed and happy and very well trained. Seeing him reminds me of Corbin pulling me into his lap with Deputy and telling me it would all be okay.
Corbin’s cabin is at least three times bigger than mine, with a fenced backyard perfect for a big dog. Which is exactly what Deputy’s going to be. My cottage barely has enough space for me, and it doesn’t have a yard to speak of. Just a dense forest where he could get lost. ThoughI’ve been looking up training guides online and watching videos, I’ve never actually trained or cared for a dog before. Why on earth I ever thought I could raise one is beyond me.
“Maybe… you should keep Deputy.” My voice shakes, cracking despite my best effort to steady it. “He seems to be doing really well here.” Tears sting the corners of my eyes. “I think you were right when I came to the police station to meet him. I don’t think this is a good idea anymore.”
A single tear slips free, tracing a line down my face.
Then it hits me. Corbin’s scent, completely unfiltered. I’ve never experienced it without the interference of scent-neutralizers. It’s leather and cedar, and hits me right in my omega core. The scrambling inside me gets worse.
A high, desperate omega whine escapes my throat.
Corbin drops to his knees in front of me. I drag my gaze up from the pavement to his eyes. Desperate determination fills them.
“Miss—”
I give him a sharp look.
“Winnie,” he corrects softly. “Please come inside, Sweetheart. Please.”
So painfully slow, he reaches out—and I don’t pull away. Even though he’s rejected me this whole time, I’m drawn to him. I need him. His voice and touch. His entire being. But I’m so angry. He knew we were mates all along and never told me. Just left me in the dark to spin.
Corbin’s rough, calloused palm smooths along my cheek and around to the back of my neck. His thumb brushes back and forth over my pulse point.
“It’s okay,” I choke out, dropping my gaze to Deputy’s fur. Even though it’s so far from okay that okay may as well be on the moon. “You don’t want me as your mate. I understand.”
I’m not going to force this alpha to be with me just because we’re fated. I don’t want that. But the alternative, not bonding with all of my mates, feels impossible too.
“Winnie, look at me.” The bark is soft, but it’s still a command I couldn’t disobey even if I wanted to. I don’t. His expression is wrecked. His gaze is dark and intent on mine and his jaw is tight.
