I pause, looking over my new flock. There are sixteen people, sixteen lives I’m responsible for. Four of them, I would happily kill right now. Can I lead them to a cliff and shove them over? Well, let’s let fate decide.
“Meg, hold your hand up,” I snap as several people start chatting, clearly not paying any attention to me.
Meg is shorter than I am, with a jet-black pixie cut and a mouth worse than a sailor’s, but she’s one of the best people to take on a tour. Her skills in reading maps, weather, tracks, and organising everything from the trips down to how to pack a bag are invaluable. Plus, she’s my best friend, my ride-or-die.
“Meg Connelly, everyone. Trust me, she might look cute and helpless, but this is one of the most knowledgeable experts on the team. You listen to her, she willnot guide you wrong. If she says don’t step there, assume whatever it is will bite your leg off.” I scan the group until I see the tall blond head of Meg’s alpha. “Desi Connelly, hand up.”
Desi throws both hands in the air and does a shimmy.
“Desi is the people person. He’s the person who will make sure you don’t kill each other out here. Do not underestimate him; he’s got several qualifications, including black belt, first aid, and climbing instructor. He might look like a quiet rock of strength, but Desi is an alpha who will keep us safe.”
“We don’t need safe; we need adventure.”
I let my eyes linger on the one who spoke. He’s got plain brown hair, laughing green eyes, and is kind of puny. My guess is he’s compensating for something he feels is inadequate. There’s always a couple in the group, and they always come out here, thinking they can prove their dick measures up against the wilderness. My being female just makes them more confident.
I’m not surprised anymore by who comes out here; there’s actually a bit of a pattern. We’ve got the loudmouth overcompensator. The anxiety ball, that guy will cling to us, trying to convince us he’s dead and or dying. The quiet one I need to watch because they are out here for their own reasons. I had one a few years back who walked into the bush mid-tour and tried to take their own life. It happens sometimes; we put on counselor hats, talk them through it, guide them home, and follow up with their emergency contact. My favourite, though, is the one who is enraged he has to be here; he will snark and scowl and be pissed off at the universe and become the person who gets assigned the worst jobs. There’s a victim type who is often the butt of all the jokes, who will end up doing most of the chores. The tech guy who cannot cope without his phone. The office romance couple, trying to keep it secret, and the fearless adventurer who wants to prove how much more he knows than us.
And them.
They make no sense why they are here. I don’t like that. I don’t look at them, but I watch out of the corner of my eye, tracking their movements and the way they stand apart from the group.
“You need a safe adventure, Egbert Tine,” I say once the jeering has died down. He opens his mouth to argue, but the woman beside him elbowshim. “No one wants to find out just how terrifying it can be to watch someone get into trouble and not have any way of getting them out of here. Let me be clear; a lot of where we are travelling will not be accessible to cars, trucks, or helicopters. We will have no phone service, which means no contact to the outside world other than the satellite phone. But you knew this beforehand,” I say, smiling mockingly. “You signed up for this tour to detach from the umbilical cord you call life.”
I’m being a little blunter than usual, a little more aggressive, but we are behind schedule, and I dislike surprises, especially ones in the form of blasts from my past.
They’re quieter now, unsure. It’s one thing to say you want to unplug, but in the face of actually going off into the wild without access to phones, social media, and emails, they panic.
“I want everyone to go to the toilet, make sure you have everything you need. We are leaving in fifteen minutes. From here on out, there will be no toilets, no showers, no phone service, no civilization. It will be you, the people you see around you, and nature. Welcome to the great big world, my friends. It’s time to start your adventure.”
I turn away, signaling that I’m done, but I’m surprised by the cheer that goes up. They don’t normally do that. Either, this trip, my campers are psychotic, or they are actually looking forward to this.
I peek towards them, unable to help myself. I’m so freaking glad I’m wearing sunglasses, and my eyes are hidden; I can watch them without being seen. Of all the luck. Is it too late to cancel?
Yes.
“Is this going to be a problem?” the murmur startles me. I look up from my backpack and find myself staring up at Vale.
Nope, this won’t do at all. I stand up and step into his space, and, to my utter amusement, he steps back. He should not be sneaking up on me; I certainly should have heard him and been more aware of my surroundings. Damn it, this day is not getting any better.
“What could possibly be a problem?” I say and force myself to look away, but it’s a bit like looking away from a wolf standing right in front of you.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him narrow his, and before I can object, he reaches out and snatches my sunglasses off my face. Now, I feel exposed. His eyeswiden slightly, but I feel the punch of him hit me. Stronger than ever. This is my scent-matched alpha.
Destiny is a fucking bitch.
“The problem between us, I’m asking if we’re going to have trouble?” His eyes sweep down my body once, then focus intently on my face. I wish he would look away. My skin heats, and I feel like my insides have turned fizzy.
I laugh a little too loud, a little too high, but he can’t possibly know that, and mentally pat myself on the back for doing a damn good job at pretending indifference. “There is no us, Alpha Prince.”
He scowls as if my answer displeases him.
“I am your guide on this magical adventure. Sit back, enjoy the ride, and, in three weeks, you can go back to whatever hole you crawled out of and stay there. Three weeks, Vale, can you be a professional?”
I shouldn’t have said his name. It’s like I make a connection between us, and he feels it, too; his fingers clench, and he leans towards me before he corrects himself.
His eyebrows have slowly crept up, and he gets this slight red tone to his cheeks, which only serves in making him look even more attractive. Why are my scent matches so damn tasty?
“So long as we’re not going to have an issue.”
