“Yes!” he snaps. “I freaking am. This was stupid. I should have made you come on your own.”
He doesn’t mean it. Rory might hate the outdoors, but he loves killing things. He wouldn’t miss this for the world.
“You would never let me come on my own,” I say with a suggestive waggle of my eyebrows.
Rory responds by backhanding me in my stomach.
I double over, wheezing.
“Bug,” Rory says nonchalantly.
I look up into Bonnie’s disapproval and smile because I can’t help it. “It was a big bug, really buzzy.”
She rolls her eyes and turns away, and, I swear, it’s like the sun gets less bright. There’s a strange kind of yearning in my chest that I’ve never felt before.
“I’m in love,” I whisper.
Rory smacks me hard upside my head. “Get a grip.”
Just in front of me, Frenchie Mathers, who is the quietest of mice, covers her mouth to hide her grin. She sees too much, but few people notice her. I wink at her, and she blushes and looks away.
Kendall Roe, an unusually tall alpha who is a complete germaphobe, pulls out bug spray and spritz’s the air, causing Frenchie to choke. His skin is translucent white, and he walks crouched over like he’s trying to make himself smaller.
It’s always good to utilize the quiet ones. A little bit of respect will go a long way to them not seeing things they aren’t meant to.
Rory doesn’t wait for me, but I stagger back up to him, swatting a branch out of my face. I hear a yowl and look behind me to find it’s hit Jennifer Stone in the face.
Jen has dark auburn hair and a scowl that would frighten little children. She wants to be here less than Rory does, and it took corporate orders to get her here, but I can see she’s going to explode soon.
Her pretty face turns red, and she almost vibrates with her rage.
“Sorry, Jen!”
Her eyes, which are a vivid blue, focus on me. I don’t feel even the smallest part of fear. Perhaps if I were a wise alpha, I would, but this beta is the most adorable ball of rage I’ve ever seen, in the most platonic way. She reminds me of my nanny.
I kind of want to keep poking until I see her go boom.
“Do not do it,” Rory grumbles and grabs hold of my wrist, yanking me along the pathway.
“Aww, but I want to.”
Rory leads us up an incline, and then the trees part, and I get a look at a view that takes my breath away.
Bonnie is standing on a rock, her hair lifting in the wind. She looks capable and innocent, so very beautiful, completely unlike the photos the press took of her.
Oh, and the landscape is nice, too.
Bonnie
This is a bad idea.
“This is a great idea,” Meg says happily. She scrapes her fingers through her hair and smiles widely at our ragtag group of campers attempting to set up their tents. They are a disaster. I know that we have three small groups from three different companies, but you wouldn’t think any of these people had a brain between them. I’ve never seen anyone have so much trouble putting up a tent before.
I rub my hand across my mouth when Greg Ultie, who proclaimed no less than twelve times that he’s been camping in worse places, manages to somehow just miss stabbing himself in the eye with his tent pole.
With a sigh, I look hard at Meg.
“Looks like we've found our camping expert.”
