“The toughest parts of the hike are day three, when we have to go down the rapids, and then we walk along the river for a while. Day seven is when we climb to a higher altitude and follow some trails up to some absolutely stunning views.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing the rapids.”
Desi blinks and peels another potato absently.
“Days twelve and thirteen, we have a massive ascent as we start heading for the pass and making our way back here.”
I swallow hard and try to look intimidated by the very idea of facing it. I guess it works because Desi smiles.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you, Cyn. After that, we’ve got a fairly simple walk back; it just has some easy to slip moments. Especially on day eighteen, that’s when we go through Colson’s Pass.”
“Colson’s Pass?”
“Yes, it’s an elevated pass of sheer rock. We go straight through the middle and then have to follow a tiny trail around the summit and down the other side. There’s a tiny rock wall we need to descend, that’s where we will let everyone try abseiling.”
“Wow.”
Bonnie scowls at me as if she knows what I’m doing. I wait until I know no one is watching and wink at her. The stick in her hand snaps, scaring several peoplearound her. She rushes to reassure them. I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t have to explain to Desi why I’m watching the omega so intently.
“So, you have a history with Bonnie, then?”
I startle, turning my entire focus back to Desi. “No, not really.”
“She was your-”
“I met her on the red carpet for less than ten seconds. She wasn’t mine.”
“Scent matches-”
“I don’t believe in scent matches,” I say, but I’m staring at her. “Scent match is an excuse one person uses to control another. Now, partnership is a word I can get behind.”
“You hurt her,” Desi says coldly. “Meg told me all about it. If you hurt her again, I will make sure none of you makes it off Colson’s Pass.”
“I won’t hurt her,” I promise. “Everything went wrong back then. It was sudden and unexpected. There were cameras, and we handled it poorly. I am deeply sorry for what the press did, but the pain inflicted on her was not by our design. I would never do that to someone.”
A part of me is being honest, but the rest of me is lying. I would do it; I did do it. And I would do it again.
We could have stopped it at any time; instead, we leaned into driving her and her family as far away from us as we could make them run.
Sometimes, I lie in bed at night reliving those days and wondering if it was the right decision. Maybe we should have handled it more discreetly. But hindsight is twenty/twenty.
“Well, that’s me sorted. But if you do hurt her, it’s not me you have to watch out for. Those two omegas are savage as fuck. Fair warning, they’ll take your balls and wear them as dangly earrings just for shits and giggles.”
The image is…a strong one.
The fire sends sparks into the air, and our colleagues gather close to the heat as darkness falls.
The food cooks, and we eat, but I find myself watching her, studying her. I want to look away, but she’s captivating, with the quiet fortitude she has around her, capable, strong.
Not at all like the frilly little cupcake omega we met so long ago. And definitely not who the press painted her to be.
Who is she really?
It’s at that point that Greg projectile vomits into the fire.
The smell is horrendous, but worse are the piercing shrieks of Arissa Moseman. She’s loud and can talk with a mouthful of marbles, but these shrieks are out of this world.
It takes a split second to realise she’s been covered in vomit. It would appear that when Greg tried to turn, he sprayed her and then the fire.
